Cut from the Under-15s

The coach read out the squad in the car park, in front of everyone's parents, in alphabetical order. My surname starts with Y, so I stood there for the whole list, working out that I wasn't on it a long time before it finished.

I'd played for that team for six years. Football was the only thing I'd ever told anyone I was good at. On the drive home, my dad said "their loss" and I told him to stop talking, then didn't speak to him until the Tuesday.

I didn't kick a ball for nearly three years. I told people I'd grown out of it. I hadn't. I'd just decided I would rather have quit than been dropped, and if you say that for long enough, people believe you.

When I was 19, a girl at work mentioned that her Sunday team were short of players and had started putting her mum in goal. I went along, out of breath within ten minutes and terrible. We lost 6-0, and I've honestly never had a better morning.

I help run that side now. When we pick a team, I tell people privately and beforehand, and I never do it in a car park. It's a small rule, but it's mine.

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