Jarrod Black: Chasing Pack

Chapter 7

LicenceIt wasn’t until the next morning that Jarrod thought about it again. He was on his way to training when the hosts of the easy-listening mid-morning show on Radio Teesside had a quick exchange about their favourite Harlowe Croft actor over the years. It turned out that heart-throb Craig Daniels had been dropped as Croft, the lead character in the long-running semi-serious British institution, and that a more youthful Croft was being considered. Youthful would be a loose term, however, as Harlowe Croft had been anything from thirty to sixty in the top-grossing movie series over the years.

Jarrod drove through the gates and found a spot. The seed of curiosity had been sown in his mind, and he quickly googled Craig Daniels and started reading. It was true all right: the onset of wrinkles and his increasingly baggy eyes had caught up with the actor. He was also no longer in shape, his larger frame belying the mystique of Harlowe Croft. Croft was always a slim figure, quintessentially English, who wore a suit well. It was time for a change.

There were many names thrown around; Murat, from the light entertainment duo Murat and Andoni, was in there. He did cut a slim figure, but his accent might be too strong to disguise as a Londoner. James Milner, the ex-Liverpool player, was also a name that Jarrod recognised, that chiselled chin a striking feature in anyone’s books, but not the perfect fit physically. Needless to say, Jarrod’s name was not in the frame, and he was pretty sure it wouldn’t be at any time in the near future.

He was just about to step out of the car when a further thought about how much these actors got paid flashed across his mind. With one foot on the ground and his leg keeping the door open, he disappeared down another internet rabbit-hole when the first figure of $15 million per movie popped up. That dollar amount, in US dollars, he assumed—wow, that was a lot of money.

He realised that he should make tracks to training when his leg was starting to get a little numb from the car door.

The morning training session was a light jog and preparation for the evening game at home to Bristol Rovers. Jarrod had missed yesterday’s late afternoon training session and was keen to get his muscles moving again after way too long driving there and back to the Midlands. He breezed through the reception area with a wink to the young receptionist who was on a call and raced up the steps and past Pauline’s office. Pauline, the head of media at the club, noticed him dashing past and called after him.

“Jarrod! Jarrod!” she shouted, Jarrod not realising until the second shout. He stopped and backtracked, poking his head around the door.

“Pauline! Did I hear you shout my name?”

“Yes, yes, come in. One minute,” replied Pauline, pointing at the empty seat opposite hers. Jarrod complied, although he made it look as if he wouldn’t be staying there long. He glanced at the pile of newspapers on her desk with the trashy mag on top with Craig Daniels on the cover.

“How was yesterday?” she asked.

“Yesterday was fantastic,” said Jarrod, instantly engaged now that someone had taken an interest in his epic UEFA A Licence. “We had a session about the different characters we might come across in a football team. I think I can categorise everyone in the squad now.”

“That’s good,” said Pauline. “Now, when does this end?”

“When does it end?” repeated Jarrod, with a puzzled expression.

“We’ve got Saturday, Tuesday for pretty much the whole season, especially if we go on cup runs,” said Pauline. “Are you sure you’ve got the time to give to your licence right now?”

Jarrod rocked back in the seat and stared at Pauline. He didn’t know what to say. He searched for clues in Pauline’s eyes. Was this coming from Gary, the coaching staff? Had Marianne said something? Did Gerry notice that he was away a bit more than usual? This needed a crafty response. After all, he’d stalled so long on this b****y licence, he couldn’t abandon it again.

“Oh yes,” he finally answered. “It’s all about preserving the body at this stage. Taking some time away from the training field is not a bad thing sometimes. I’m still active on these days away, you know, but at least I don’t get into game situations and risk injury.”

“Right,” was all that Pauline could respond with. She was clearly not convinced. Cristiano Ronaldo was fitter than he ever was at Jarrod’s age and wouldn’t miss a training session. To be fair, Jarrod wasn’t Cristiano Ronaldo.

“Can I go?” asked Jarrod with the hint of petulance that such a sentence always carried. Pauline showed her palm towards the door and smiled warmly as he left, holding her gaze as he walked out. That unspoken communication confirmed that it had come from somewhere else, and that Pauline was acting as the messenger. They had a fantastic working relationship, Pauline and Jarrod, and it would be as strong as ever this season.