Tales of the Tournaments

16 August, 2023

Stadium Australia, Sydney 1-3

Up in the box, high above the stadium, Lauren James waited and watched, secluded.

Not quite secluded. She had one of the Lionesses’ appointed disciplinarians, Miss Vanessa, watching over her (or Miss Brooke, as the blonde woman had insisted LJ call her, saying Miss Vanessa was too informal for her tastes. The fuck did she come from, Buckingham Palace? Windsor Castle? Did she think she was the bloody queen?) Miss Brooke wasn’t even a former footballer, either, but she had been borrowed from Man City (not even Chelsea, LJ thought in annoyance) as a Classification Centre staff member who could be entrusted with naughty brats such as suspended, red carded players.

Such as Lauren, who’d been sitting out ever since her disastrous clash in the round of 16 with that Nigerian player (What was she called again? Alozie, Lauren thought, but her head was hurting too much to think. Well at least her bum wasn’t still on fire, though Lauren knew better than to expect that to remain the case too much longer. Naughty girls who got suspended at World Cups got dealt with by their club captains at home. Even - LJ bristled at the unfairness of it - if their national captain, who had already disciplined them, was also their club captain and there were no vice-captains or third-captains to lighten the load. 

“Little girl, stop that mental journeying and pay attention to the match, won’t you?”

Oh, fuck you to hell. Make me.

LJ knew better than to say that, though, so she just raised her head and glared before turning her gaze back to the pitch.

Just in time to see the ref’s yellow card flash out at Alex Greenwood. Ten minutes in, and already England was in the books.

Lauren was on her feet, screaming. “What the fuck? Why Greenwood? Damn ref’s out to get us, wants Australia to win doesn’t she, that biased little--”

“Lauren Elizabeth James, you will sit down and be silent right now.”

Oh fuck you. But Lauren resumed her seat, glowering. She hoped Alex was alright.

Just a few minutes later, Rachel Daly had the first attempt on goal for England that Lauren had noticed, but her header went wide of the post. Daly’s gonna hate herself for that, LJ thought. Goal kicks and throw-ins followed in quick succession, and then Alessia Russo missed a strike.

“We’d be doing better if I was out there,” she sulked.

“And whose fault is that, little girl?”

LJ didn’t bother to respond to Miss Brooke’s pointed question. She just watched as England and Australia passed the ball back and forth, neither side getting much of anywhere for the first half hour of the match.

Then, in the thirty-sixth minute, Ella Toone seized her chance. The Lioness fired the ball past Matildas keeper Mackenzie Arnold.

Goal.

Up in the box, Lauren sighed in relief. “Fucking finally.”

“Watch your tone, little girl.”

Yeah, fuck you too, your Highness, Lauren thought sarcastically.

Katrina Gorry tried to score past Mary Earps a few minutes later, and much to Lauren’s relief, was unsuccessful in finding an equaliser. 

No more attempts were made on either goal as the first half wound to a close, and LJ slumped back in her seat, worried, almost sure, that the Captains were going to come up to talk to Miss Brooke. If not both, for sure Millie would, wanting to talk about her.

Thankfully, Lauren’s fear never materialised.

When the players returned from halftime, it only took a few minutes for Caitlin Foord to get in a header for Australia. Before it could go in the goal, though, the Lionesses’ defence cleared it away.

The forward looked upset with herself for not getting it in the goal, and the ball passed back and forth between England and Australia for a while longer. About ten minutes later, first Lauren Hemp, then captain Millie Bright, missed getting shots past Mackenzie Arnold. 

That’s alright, we’re still ahead, LJ thought.

Five minutes later, though, Sam Kerr equalised for Australia.

Sixty-three minutes in and they were level.

Well, fuck. Come on Lionesses, pick this up.

In the sixty-seventh minute, Kerr tried for a header but it was cleared away, denying the Australian goalscorer a brace and leaving the score level. Alessia Russo’s header three minutes later was denied.

Twenty minutes left…

Just then, Lauren Hemp pounded a header past Mackenzie Arnold.

Goal. England up 2-1.

As LJ’s teammates rushed to hug Hempo and celebrate with her, she stared down at the other Lauren. “That should be me.”

“And why isn’t it, little girl?”

Oh, shut up.

Cortnee Vine came off the Matildas’ bench to replace Hayley Raso, and then Lauren noticed Lucy Bronze, down.

Shite. She stared, anxiety hammering in her chest, as the med staff worked over Lucy, walking her to one side. For now, the Lionesses were playing with ten, until Lucy’s evaluation was finished.

Please be okay, if you’re dead Keira’s gonna kill you.

Luckily after only a minute, Lucy was back on the pitch looking ok. Lauren released a breath she hadn’t known she was holding.

Millie’s next header went wide. Then Australia made another substitution - Emily van Egmond for Clare Polkinghorne. Why hasn’t Sarina subbed anyone yet? This late in the match? LJ wondered. Is it because I’m not there?

“Don’t look like that, little girl. I’m sure Sarina has her reasons.”

“How’d you know?” LJ demanded.

“I know. And you will call me Miss Brooke or ma’am, little girl.”

“My name is Lauren, ma’am.”

Vanessa Brooke’s eyebrows rose.

Sam Kerr’s next two attempts on goal both went wide, but then the ball landed in front of Alessia Russo, and she pounded it past the keeper.

Goal.

Three goals to Australia’s one. The stands were erupting. It was the 86th minute, the match was nearly over, so the Lionesses felt good about their win now, for sure. 

Alessia was subbed off after her goal celebration for Chloe Kelly. The Manchester City player’s entrance got a brief, fondly exasperated smile from Miss Brooke, which LJ could easily read.

That’s how someone looks at a brat they like but whose behaviour they find a bit much sometimes. Well, Chloe could be prone to showing off sometimes, LJ guessed. 

 On the Matildas’ side, Alex Chidiac came in for Katrina Gorry, and then the Lionesses subbed Ella Toone off, replacing her with Niamh Charles. LJ watched her Chelsea teammate come in. Now they were in stoppage time, and LJ wasn’t sure Niamh would have much of a shot, but England had pretty much won already, anyway.

Five minutes into stoppage time, Chloe Kelly was shown the yellow card. Lauren saw Miss Brooke watching the Manchester City player with eyes narrowed in thought. 

Well well. Looks like her perfect little girl isn’t so perfect, LJ tried not to smirk. Two yellows for England, and none for Australia wasn’t a good look though.

Sam Kerr got a shot on goal, denied. It wouldn’t have been enough to equalise for the Matildas even if Mearps had let it in, LJ thought, studying her fellow Chelsea player, the Australian star. 

And that’s the final whistle. LJ sagged into her seat with a rush of relief. England 3, Australia 1 - the Lionesses had taken out the remaining co-hosts in the semifinals.

That meant there’d be a final for England to play in, and she was going to play in it. Or that she was eligible to play in it. If Sarina plays me, she thought with a stab of worry. She could just put LJ on the bench, and then not use her.

But if she’s smart she will. And Sarina’s not stupid, she knows I need to come back.

What would happen remained to be seen. Reluctantly, Lauren allowed Miss Brooke to return her to the locker room before her teammates arrived.

As LJ watched the doors to the locker room open and the players enter, her eyes were searching for Millie. Even if her bum wasn’t in the line of fire, some of her teammates weren’t so lucky. 

Alex Greenwood, and Chloe Kelly, LJ thought, surveying the pair from Manchester City. She hadn’t seen what either of them had been carded for properly, but surely Millie would know, and be sure to call them on it.

Surprisingly to LJ, it wasn’t Millie who spoke, but Miss Brooke.

“Little girls.”

It was the ‘Miss Brooke is Thoroughly Displeased’ tone that LJ had come to recognise so well since the woman had been minding her during her suspension. Much to her surprise, not only Alex and Chloe, but Lauren Hemp, Esme Morgan, Laura Coombs and Ellie Roebuck snapped to attention, their eyes in Miss Brooke’s direction.

She’s got the City players well trained, I see, LJ thought sarcastically. She managed to catch herself before saying it out loud.

“At ease, Morgan, Coombs, Roebuck, you didn’t even come off the bench,” Miss Brooke said dryly, and the three relaxed visibly.

LJ couldn’t help a sarcastic laugh, but a look from Millie wiped the smirk off her face as Miss Brooke continued speaking.

“Well done out there, Hemp.”

The other Lauren straightened, and preened a little, looking pleased with herself.

“The four of you, ice baths,” Miss Brooke ordered, and they didn’t even bother with a glance at Millie before obeying.

Millie looked rather miffed at having her locker room usurped from under her, but didn’t seem to know what to say.

“Millie, you’re welcome to do as you like with the rest of them, but do let me take Greenwood and Kelly off your hands.”

“Oh…of course, Miss Brooke.”

The locker room was soon cleared of the squad except for Alex and Chloe, standing in front of Miss Brooke, and LJ, seated in front of her own cubby and watching reluctantly. Miss Brooke surveyed the two Manchester City yellow carded players, arms folded.

“What am I going to do with you two naughty little girls?”

“You could not smack us, ma'am?” Alex asked. 

“That was rhetorical, Greenwood. That sass just got you extras on your sit spots, with the brush. And I think you'll go last. The waiting should help you reflect on your behaviour. Chloe, sweetie, can you come see a moment, please?”

“Am scared. Don't want the brush.”

“Shh, no angel. That's just for Alex. How about just my hand, hmm? That doesn't sound as bad, does it?”

LJ watched the interaction closely. She realised that Chloe had slipped, going little - she didn’t see that from Chloe often, but then they didn’t play together that often. If her own bum wasn’t likely to be on the line she might have teased Chloe about it, but with Miss Brooke right there she decided to keep quiet.

“No smacking, Mummy,” Chloe pleaded anxiously. “Pwease?”

Alex turned to Chloe, squeezing her shoulder. “You heard her, Chloe. You need to take your smacks like a big girl, little one.”

LJ couldn’t help snorting at the incongruity of that statement.

“I hope you remember that too, Alex Greenwood. You're lucky that wasn’t a red card, little girl. And as far as you, Chloe Maggie Kelly, what do you think we need two balls on the pitch for, were you wanting a penalty shootout?” Miss Brooke asked

“No ma’am,” Alex said quietly. She guided Chloe forward, the younger girl finding herself tipped over Miss Brooke’s knee in short order. 

The little blonde yelped as Miss Brooke tugged down her bottoms, baring her. “Mummy!”

“No, little girl,” Miss Brooke said firmly. “You were naughty, you know yellow cards aren’t allowed.”

Sniffling, Chloe held her hands out, and Alex knelt by Miss Brooke, taking her younger teammate’s hands and holding them tightly. The little girl clung to Alex’s hands, letting out mewling cries as Miss Brooke smacked her bottom to a warm pink colour all over.

Eventually, though, her knickers and shorts were tugged back up and she was pulled to stand, feeling a bit wobbly, as Miss Brooke pointed Alex into position.

The unhappy defender reluctantly obeyed.

“I'm very unhappy with you, Alex Greenwood. Pass me the brush.”

“Ma- Ma'am?” LJ noticed the waver in Alex’s voice and was concerned for teammate’s bottom.

“You heard me correctly the first time, Alex Greenwood. Hold on to Chloe’s hands if you must, but pass me the hairbrush, now.”

As Alex passed the hairbrush that was previously lying inside Miss Brooke’s handbag outside of Chloe’s view, back to Miss Brooke, LJ noticed that Chloe came around to kneel and take Alex’s hands in her own. Whether this was reciprocity, or just concern for Alex, or Alex reaching back,  LJ couldn’t say. If she had to take a guess, she would hazard probably a little of both.

“Deep breath for me, Alex. I'm starting.”

As LJ tuned back into the scene around her, the hairbrush was brought down in semi rapid succession, turning Alex Greenwood's bottom a shade of pink decidedly darker than Chloe’s before her.

“Now, we must deal with that naughty tongue of yours, Alex Greenwood.”

Just as Alex remembered, this smacking was more memorable as the hairbrush smacked down on both of her thighs, leaving her thoroughly sorry, with unshed tears in her eyes.

“Now, the hairbrush is finished,” Miss Brooke said as she once again placed the dreaded hairbrush back in her handbag. “Just my hand now, Alex. Breathe for me.” 

After Alex released the breath she was holding, LJ saw Chloe’s hands tighten around Alex’s which in anticipation, a hand on an already warm bottom did not go well.

Once Miss Brooke could see, and hear, Alex’s repentant cries did she stop the punishment all together. 

Before she knew it, Alex Greenwood was back on her feet, with her clothes set to rights, with instructions to head towards the ice baths with Chloe.

LJ finally realised that Miss Brooke’s whole attention was now on her as they were the only two not in the ice baths.

“I want you to do your best to behave from now going forward, is that clear?”

LJ nodded vigorously as she and Miss Brooke finally stepped into the ice baths room. At least we still made it into the final, LJ thought. Anything else can wait until tomorrow as far as she was concerned, the Lionesses had some celebrating to do, but that could wait until later.