'Sorry, guv, but I promised my old mum that I'd never play football. It's a good way of gettin' your head caved in!'
'Trev Likely?' roared Bledlow Nobbs (no relation). 'Are you Dave Likely's lad? He - '
'Scored four goals, yeah, yeah, yeah,' said Trev. 'And then died in the street with the rain washing his blood down the gutter and someone's smelly overcoat over him. The Prince of Football?'
'Do we need a little talk, Mister Trev?' Nutt said urgently.
'No. No. I'm okay. Okay?'
'This isn't that kind of football, Trev,' said Nutt soothingly.
'Yeah, I know. But I promised my old mum.'
'Then at least show them your moves, Mister Trev,' Nutt pleaded. He turned to the players. 'You must see this!'
Trev sighed, but Nutt knew just how to wheedle. 'All right, if it shuts you up,' he said, and pulled a tin can out of his pocket, to much laughter.
'See?' he complained to Nutt. 'They just think it's a joke.'
Nutt folded his arms. 'Show them.'
Trev dropped the can on to his foot and with hardly any effort flicked it on to his shoulder, where it rolled around his neck to his other shoulder and, after a tiny pause, righted itself. He shrugged it on to his other foot, spun it into the air, and let it tumble and spin on the toe of his boot with a faint rattling noise.
Trev winked at Ponder Stibbons. 'Don't move, guv.'
The can sprang off the boot and up into the air, then, as it fell, he hit it with a roundhouse kick, driving it at Ponder. The people behind Ponder dived out of the way as it growled past his face and went into orbit, appearing for a moment to give him a silver necklace until it broke away and dropped into Trev's hand like a beached salmon.
In the silence, Ponder pulled his thaumometer out of his pocket and glanced at it.
'Natural background,' he said flatly. 'No magic involved. How did you do that, Mister Likely?'
'You just 'ave to get the hang of it, guv. Getting the spins is the thing, but if I 'ave to think too much it don't work.'
'Can you do it with a ball?'
'Dunno, never tried. But prob'ly no. Can't get the long spin and the short spin, see? But you ort to be able to get somethin' out of a ball.'
'But how would that help us?' said Hix.
'Mastery of the ball is everything,' said Nutt. 'The planned rule will, I think, allow the keeper of the goal to handle the ball. This is vital. There is, however, no explicit ban on nodding the ball, kneeing the ball or blocking the ball with the chest and letting it drop neatly on to the foot. Remember, gentlemen, this ball flies. It will spend a lot of time in the air. You must learn not to think just about the ground.'
'I feel sure that using the head would be considered illegal,' said Ponder.
'Sir, you presume a rule where there is none. Remember what I said about the real nature of the game.'
Ponder saw Nutt's little half-smile, and gave in. 'Mister Nutt, I am delegating the selection and training of our football team to you. You will report to me, of course.'
'Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. I will need the power to sequester team members from their normal duties when required.'
'Well, I suppose I must agree to that. Very well, I shall leave the team in your hands,' said Ponder, thinking: how many bags of old clothes use the word 'sequester' as if they're used to it? Still, Ridcully likes the little goblin, if that's what he is, and I've never seen the point of team games.
'May I also, sir, request a very small budget?'
'Why?'
'With all due respect to the exigencies of university finances,' said Nutt, 'I believe it is very necessary.'
'Why?'