League of His Own Ch. 06

"That's fine. They're only fooling around. You can fool around with Kim whenever you want."

"You don't mind?"

"I'm only one man, Kyla. And Kim deserves all the love."

Lying back in bed, my sister in one arm, my girlfriend in the other, I couldn't help feeling a sense of relief that everything was going to be okay going forward.

*****

"And the West Sydney Rangers have been unable to snap a five-game losing streak that has seen them plummet out of the top eight to fourteenth out of sixteenth. Despite the good form of halfback Daniel Cole, and some decent play during most games, they have been on the end of three heart-breaking defeats of less than six points during this run...."

The coach switched off the television and turned around to be greeted by a wall of silence. The season had started so well. We won half of the first ten games, the best start to the season for the club in over a decade. But losing five games in a row, three by a close margin, had started to sap our confidence. And when that starts, it's a vicious cycle. Mistakes happen. We start to overplay and overthink. And a molehill eventually turns into a mountain.

The coach took a chair and sat down in front of us. "Let's be honest with each other here. Any of you watch the news every night? Watch the sports channels? Read the newspapers?" Most of us admitted to doing that. "Has the criticism of our team and our club been anywhere near as bad as even last year?"

"No, coach," Graham replied, "In fact, even when we lose, they're finding positives."

"Exactly. You guys are not playing bad footy. You follow the game plan. You're still doing all the basics right. I'm not going to blame our results all on bad luck. While I believe in a certain element of luck, in the end, you make your own luck. But I see the effort you boys are putting in every fucking game and I won't hear anything different. I won't even say we've hit a bad run of form.

What we need is just that one win. That one win to stop the rot and get us back on the front foot. And that's starting this weekend against Parramatta. There's nothing better than a derby match at Commbank Stadium against the bitter enemy. They're on a good run, and there's talk of a title tilt. I say we end that talk this weekend."

"Sick of hearing about the fucking Eels," Mark grumbled, "Fucking pretenders to the throne, my arse."

"All we ever hear about is thirty plus years of hurt," Andy added, "Fuck me, I'd love to just make a finals series. At least they've made grand finals in recent memory."

"We can beat them," I stated softly, everyone falling silent. I usually didn't say too much during these meetings as I still felt like the new kid at school.

The coach looked directly at me and grinned, almost knowingly. "How do we beat them, Danny?"

I stood up and looked at the Parramatta team sheet. I already had a million ideas flowing through my mind. "This fuckwit," I stated, pointing at the name of the halfback, "Shut him down and they're already toothless. What do we know about them? What do they rely on?"

"Forward power and a kicking game," Matt replied.

"Bingo. They make yards through their forwards to get momentum. So we stop that fucking momentum. And that means all of us, all thirteen of us, step up and we stop the fuckers. Once they have no momentum, we focus on the pair of cunts in the halves. We shut down their halfback, we shut down the five-eighth, and then they're fucked. They've got nothing to offer otherwise."

"What else, Danny?" the coach wondered, hearing the encouragement in his tone.

"Let's get the fucking mongrel back in us," I stated, looking around the room, meeting every pair of eyes, "I'm not saying we start fights and go in with high shots, but let's show these fuckers that the Rangers won't be intimidated and that, if necessary, we will fight, we will hurt, and we will bleed for the cause." I looked around the room again. "I'm sick and fucking tired of everyone writing us off. Even before the season started, we were favourites for the spoon. Do any of you want the spoon again?"

The chorus of swear words suggested they did not.

"I don't want to finish bottom. We made progress last year, and I'm not seeing all that hard work undone. I joined this club to see us move up the ladder, to see us into the finals, to see us finally win a fucking Premiership. You guys want one too?"

The chorus of cheers suggested they did.

I slapped the Parramatta team sheet. "These guys are there for the taking. There'll be nothing better than wiping the floor with these cunts on Friday night at their home stadium. I don't just want to see us beat them. I want to destroy them. I want to embarrass them. Keep them scoreless while we run up a cricket score. I want to keep their crowd silent, see them streaming to the exits with twenty minutes left because we've absolutely battered them. I don't know about any of you, but I'm tired of losing. I'm a winner. And I know each of you is a winner too. You're playing first grade rugby league. Best of the fucking best. You've earned the jersey and you've earned the right to wear that fucking emblem on your chest." I glanced around the room. "Our team, our club, is constantly written off. No hope. No chance. Losers. Are you losers?"

The chorus of anger suggested they were not losers.

"Then it's about fucking time we won a fucking game of rugby league this Friday night, right? Are you with me?" There was a loud cheer. "Not good enough. I said are you fucking with me?" The cheer was louder as they rose to their feet. "That's fucking right. We're going to train this week until our muscles ache and we're begging to stop. Then we're going to turn up at Commbank Stadium on Friday night, and we are going to win a game of rugby fucking league. And you know what?"

"What?" they shouted in unison.

"We're going to do the same fucking thing next week as well."

The noise of the crowd was ridiculous as the Parramatta team ran out to join us on the field. We were already in position, ready to take the ball after they kicked off. We'd been pumped up all week, everyone ready to give their body and soul for the cause. No-one wanted to trudge off the field a loser again. We were not going to lose a sixth game in a row.

Barely heard the whistle for kick-off as the ball headed in my direction, catching and handing it off to our prop forward. He just charged towards the defensive line, slamming into it and sending one of their players flying. Our fans in the crowd roared as our other prop took the next hit-up. I could already feel the intensity of the game, of our own performance. We knew it was going to exhaust us, but we had promised each other. No surrender this time. We'd run until our feet bled if necessary.

My first kick was perfect, right down to their corner, five metres out from the in-goal area. And the opposition learned in their first set of six that we would not take a backward step. Every tackle, we stopped their momentum. Graham and I were shouting our encouragement alongside our captain. They had to kick from no more than thirty metres out, our fullback able to run the ball back to within five metres of the halfway line.

The game remained scoreline for the first fifteen minutes. They barely made it over the halfway line in all that time, our efforts keeping them pinned back time after time. Their frustration eventually got the better of them, earning three quick penalties for a high shot then players being offside twice.

"Take the penalty?" the captain asked me and also our goalkicker. Shaking my head, he grinned. "I thought so. Get us within ten."

Doing just that, our prop charged once he had the ball, getting to within five. Getting into position, I pulled the unexpected, making a gesture before I ran to the line and put a grubber kick behind the defensive line. Their fullback was up in the line and couldn't react, our winger sprinting through to grab the ball and score a try.

"Fuck yeah!" I shouted, leaping into the air as I joined everyone in celebrating.

With the bit between our teeth, we were relentless, our two props making nearly thirty metres in just the first two tackles of the next set. And when my kick found touch five metres from their line on the fifth tackle, we saw their heads dropping and knew we had to make the most of it.

Our second rower absolutely smashed one of their players, forcing him to drop the ball. Graham was in position to grab it, immediately passing to me. Carrying the ball in one hand, I made a couple of gestures before passing in front of two players, our right centre bursting through a gap in their line. He was untouched all the way to the tryline.

"Keep it going, lads! Keep it fucking going!" our captain yelled as we made our way back for kick-off.

"All about momentum," I added, "Keep this going. Through the pain. All the way."

We didn't score again before halftime, but they barely had a sniff. Players hated halftime as it sometimes led a momentum shift. But the coach kept us positive. We didn't even sit down during the break, keeping ourselves pumped and ready to go again. We were out first after halftime, the opposition players making us wait for three minutes before they arrived.

That just pissed us off, and after the kick-off, we charged down the field to tackle the fuckers. Third tackle, they dropped the ball. Our left centre picked it up, thanks to quick passing, our right winger crossed the line in the corner. Any speech their coach had made about shifting momentum died immediately.

For eighty minutes, we kept them on the back foot, and they never had a sniff of our own line. Only twice did they even come within twenty metres; their kick game ineffective while our forward pack completely neutered theirs. As for my kicking game, Graham and I mixed it up like usual, but apart from perhaps one or two minor errors, it was almost flawless.

When the fulltime siren sounded, half the stadium was empty as we'd kept them scoreline while piling on thirty-four points of our own. The Rangers fans were in full voice, singing the team song as walked around the field, clapping all four corners as I don't think anything would have stopped us celebrating that night.

A club official walked over. "Channel Nine want a word, Danny. Man of the Match."

"Ah, shit. Here we go."

Jogging over towards the two presenters, they gave me a microphone and I just knew I had a stupid smile on my face. "How do you rate the performance tonight, Danny?" Danika asked.

"The boys were magnificent. After last weekend's loss, we came together and practically demanded perfection from each other. No game is perfect, but the boys were full of heart today. We'll be feeling it the next couple of days. Some massive hits out there. We'll be hurting but knowing Parramatta will be hurting more. It's a derby. This is what it means to everyone." I looked around at the fans nearby. "You can hear them singing, even during the game. That keeps us going."

Brad asked the next question. "Your organisation tonight was exemplary, Danny. There are already whispers about being on the fringes of Origin thanks to your form all season."

"I'm not worried about all that, Freddie. My focus is on the Rangers, my boys, and getting us back up that ladder. Don't get me wrong, wearing the blue is a dream. But I'm still young and have a long career ahead of me, or so I hope."

"Next weekend, you'll be at home against Brisbane, currently in second place. Reynolds is the form halfback of the competition at the moment, and their forward pack is something to be feared. Any plans on how to take them on?"

"Well, I would say we do to them what we did to Parramatta tonight, but no doubt they'll review what we did and adjust, so that's what we do. But we'll worry about Brisbane on Monday. For now, it's enjoying the win tonight with the boys and the fans, rest and recover over the weekend, then pump ourselves up for another hard game next week."

"Thanks for talking to us, Danny. Fantastic game and well-deserved Man of the Match award."

"Thanks."

The pair shook my hand, offering further congratulation off camera. Brad pulled me aside and suggested that there was some talk and simply wanted to know my thoughts. He liked my answer and suggested, should my form continue for the next couple of seasons, I'd definitely find myself on the list.

Finding my family and friends by the barriers, I hugged and kissed all of them before signing a few autographs. Heading into the changing room, they were already celebrating our victory, beers being consumed. I joined in as I wouldn't be driving, my car parked back at the training ground as the team bus would take us home.

After a shower and getting changed, more fans were waiting outside near the bus. Hearing my name called over and over again did cause a certain amount of pride, aware there were already many young fans out there wearing the number seven jersey with my name in letters on the back.

Getting off the bus back at our training ground, Kim, Kyla and Wendy were waiting for me. The guys didn't know Kyla was my sister, they only knew I had three girlfriends. Kyla was still unsure about public displays of affection, only kissing my cheek, but Wendy then Kyla laid rather passionate kisses on my lips. "Someone is getting pussy tonight," Kim growled into my ear.

It was late by the time we walked in the front door. Mum wandered out from the kitchen with a beer for me and a bottle of wine for the girls. After dumping my things in my bedroom and getting changed into something a little more comfortable, I joined Kyla and Wendy on the couch, Kyla sitting on the floor between my legs. "Aimee's gone out with friends," Mum explained, "She was at the game like a good sister, though."

"I saw her."

"I'll definitely watch the replay tomorrow, Danny," Kyla stated, "You were fantastic tonight."

"Definitely earned that award and a night with his three girlfriends," Kim added.

I didn't get my night with all three as I was half-asleep while sitting on the couch, Kim and Kyla eventually dragging me to our bedroom, stripping me naked before I was cuddled by my sister and lover, and Wendy spooned against Kim. Always felt sorry for the one of the girls, though whenever Aimee was home, one of the three would sleep with them. Or my mother... Kyla and Wendy hadn't fooled around with my mother, but they did enjoy sharing a bed with her, so they didn't feel as lonely.

Woken the morning by soft lips around my coke, I opened my eyes to see my three girlfriends all smiling up at me. "Ready to have your world rocked?" Kyla asked.

"Who gets his cum?" Wendy asked.

"I think you should get it," Kim replied, "Kyla and I can enjoy his tongue."

Wendy rode me hard and fast from the start. I loved feeling her tight pussy around my cock, feeling her squeezing it tightly when she enjoyed one orgasm after another. As for Kim, I had my hands around her thighs and my tongue working her pussy and clit, ensuring she also got off over and over again until she needed to fall away, her entire body continuing to shake, while Kyla took her place on my face, smothering my mouth with her pussy. "Eat me, little brother," she growled, "I love how hard you make me cum."

By the time the four of us joined my mother and Aimee in the kitchen for breakfast, Wendy was staggering as she'd ended up on her back while I fucked her, while Kyla and Kim had that look on their faces that they'd been pleasured rather well. Mum said I was looking rather smug as I took my seat before chuckling to herself, believing I'd earned the right since I'd satisfied three women that morning.

I wanted to live with Kim and Wendy permanently, but it wasn't possible where I currently lived. With my wage alone, I could easily purchase a larger house, but my idea to actually purchase two houses next to each other, then somehow combine them so we could live separately but together at once.

Everyone knew it was on my mind. After what happened regarding my confession about my relationship with my family, I made sure there were no longer any secrets between any of us. Mum knew I was looking at places for all of us to live. I also knew she didn't care where we moved, as long as she remained as close as possible to her son. Aimee didn't want to move away from her family. Kim, Kyla and Wendy would be living in my house. Mum was happy to live in the other house. Aimee was free to live where she wanted, and from what Mum told me, Aunt Caroline would move in with her.

Things were slowly starting to come together, both in my professional and private life. I could only hope there were no further speed bumps in the future.