said Raymond Porlock, who had gathered the whole Seaport squad together for a team meeting. “I mean it,” he continued, singling Jamie out in front of all the other players as if he were a naughty schoolboy. “One more strike and you’re out. I can’t put it any more simply than that. A football team is like a family. We’re all in it together. The players, the coaches, the fans. All of us, pulling in the same direction. “So we can’t allow one rotten apple into our barrel. Because if we do, soon enough, we’ll all be rotten to the core. We’ll all be mouldy, squelchy apples – and that is not what we want to become. “Are you a rotten apple, James? Is that what you are?” “No, Mr Porlock,” said Jamie, looking at the floor. “I’m not. And I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” “Good,” said Porlock. “Then we can try to put the weekend’s little outburst behind us.
