Tears streamed down Trev's face. Mercilessly, Glenda looked him in the eye. 'Likely! Likely!'
'But my ol' mum!' Trev wept.
Then Juliet leaned over and kissed him and for a moment, the tears were silver. 'Likely?'
Trev stood clutching and unclutching his hands as the chant went on, then he gave a sort of shrug. Then he took his battered tin can out of his jacket pocket and handed it to Glenda, before turning to face the pitch again. 'I'm sorry, Mum,' he said, taking off his jacket, 'but this is football. And I don't even have a jersey.'
'We thought of that,' said Glenda. 'When they were being made.' She pulled one out of the depths of her bag. e time Lance-Constable Bluejohn of the Watch and two other trolls had forcibly prised open the gates against the pressure of bodies, the noise was just one great hammer of sound. The troll officers opened a path for them with the forethought and delicacy that has made police crowd control such a byword. It led to a fenced-off and heavily guarded area, in the centre of which was the Archchancellor formerly known as Dean, the entire team of Ankh-Morpork United and His Grace the Duke of Ankh, Commander of the City Watch, Sir Samuel Vimes, with a face like a bad lunch. 'What the hell are you clowns proposing to do to my city?' he demanded and looked up at Vetinari in his box in the middle of the stand. He raised his voice. 'I've been grafting like mad this last month on getting the KV Accord sorted out and it turns out that just when the dwarfs and the trolls are shaking hands and being jolly good pals, you lot are starting another KV of your very own.'
'Oh, come now, Sam,' said Ridcully. 'It's only a jolly day out.'
'People are queueing up at the gates,' said Vimes. 'The actual city gates. How much of this is magical?'
'None, Sam, as far as we're aware. There will be no magic used during the game, this has been discussed and agreed and the D - ' Ridcully swallowed hard. 'The Archchancellor of Brazeneck University is making himself responsible for thaumic damping of the stadium.'
'Then let me tell you this,' said the commander. 'None of my men will set a foot on the field of play, no matter what happens. Do I make myself clear?'
'As crystal, Sam.'
'Sorry, Archchancellor, for now I am Commander of the City Watch, not Sam, if it's all the same to you,' said Vimes. 'The whole damn city is an accident waiting to - no, an accident that already has happened and anything that goes bad will get worse very quickly. I'm not going to have it said that the Watch were the problem. Honestly, Mustrum, I really would have expected better from you.'
'That will be Archchancellor,' said Ridcully coldly.
'As far as I'm concerned,' said Vimes, 'this is a scuffle between rival gangs. Do you know what my job is, Archchancellor? It's to keep the peace, and for two pins, I'd arrest the whole boiling of ya, but his lordship won't have it.'
Ridcully coughed. 'May I extend my congratulations, sir, on the very good work you have been doing in Koom Valley.'
'Thank you,' said Vimes. 'And so I suspect you can imagine how cheerful I am to see you involved in another kind of war.' The commander turned to Archchancellor Henry. 'Nice to see you again, sir, it's good to see that you've moved up in the world. I'm formally telling you that I am laying down the law, here, and as the referee, you have to pick it up. Inside these lines it's football¨Cstep over the line and it's me.' He turned back to Ridcully. 'Mind how you go, Archchancellor.'
He departed, watchmen falling into place behind him.
'Well, now, I suspect the good commander has a lot on his mind these days,' said Archchancellor Henry, brightly. He pulled out his watch. 'I would like to speak to the team captains.'
'Well, I know I'm one of them,' said Ridcully.
A man stepped forward from the ranks of United.
'Joseph Hoggett, of the Pork Packers, as it happens. Captain, for my sins.'
Hoggett held out his hand to Ridcully and, to his credit, hardly winced when it was taken in a firm handshake.
'Well, gentlemen,' said the former Dean. 'I am sure you know the rules, we've been through them often enough. I want a good clean game. One long, er, peep from my whistle means that I am interrupting play for an infringement or injury or for some other reason at that point known only to myself. One even longer peep, which I suppose will be more of a parrp, will mean the end of one half and time for refreshment, after which the game will recommence. During the interval, I believe that there will be a marching display by the Ankh-Morpork accordion band, but I suppose these things are sent to try us. May I remind you gentlemen that you change ends at the half-time. Also, please impress on your team that the goal they are aiming for should not be behind them. If I see any serious infringement, that player will be removed from the pitch. A considerably longer parrp, which as far as I am concerned will continue until I am out of breath, will mark the end of the game. May I also remind you, as Commander Vimes has reminded us, that within these four, rather sticky lines of chalk, I am a wielder of power second only to the gods themselves, and then only perhaps. If at any time it becomes clear that the rules themselves are impractical, I will change them. When I blow the whistle, I shall raise my staff and unleash a spell which will prevent any further magic being used within these hallowed lines until the close of play. Is that understood?'
'Yes, sir,' said Mr Hoggett.
'Mustrum?' said the former Dean, in a meaningful voice.
'Yes, yes, all right,' grumbled Ridcully. 'You are making the most of your little moment, aren't you? Let's get on with it, shall we?'
'Gentlemen, would you please form up your teams for the singing of the National Anthem. Mister Stibbons, I believe you have found me a megaphone, thank you very much.' He raised the horn to his lips and shouted through it, 'Ladies and gentlemen, be upstanding for the National Anthem.'
The singing of the National Anthem was always a ragged affair, the good people of Ankh-Morpork feeling that it was unpatriotic to sing songs about how patriotic you were, taking the view that someone singing a song about how patriotic they were was either up to something or a Head of State.
An additional problem today lay in the acoustics of the arena, which were rather too good, coupled with the fact that the speed of sound at one end of the stadium was slightly off beat compared with the other end, a drawback exacerbated when both sides tried to recover the gap.
These acoustical anomalies did not count for much if you were standing next to Mustrum Ridcully, as the Archchancellor was one of those gentlemen who will sing it beautifully, correctly enunciated and very, very loudly.
'"When dragons belch and hippos flee, my thoughts, Ankh-Morpork, are of thee,"' he began.