'All right everybody, I want you to listen up. I know you've had a bad season and I know you've all been feeling like your reputation is at an all time low. I know you've lost 9 of the last 10 games that you've played...'

I paused for dramatic effect, and also to try to think what to say next.

The young men were seated on wooden slatted benches in the locker rooms of the stadium squinting at me with undisguised suspicion. I had to win them over.

'Now you might be thinking that this doesn't sound like much of a pep talk...' again I paused. I was running out of pauses. I had to think fast. 'But!' I said loudly. 'Things are going to change!'

From now on you are going to WIN! I am going to lead you to victory and this time next year, Hell, this time next month! People are going to say that the New York Yankees are the best baseball team that ever set foot on that field out there! Never mind that you didn't win the superbowl cup this year.

I waved my hand dismissively.

'Never mind that Darryl Strawberry got into a fight with Magic Johnson and they have both been disqualified for the rest of the season. You don't need them. All you need...' Oh God I really was running out of pauses. And words. Definitely running out of words.

'All you need – is to believe!' I finished dramatically and looked around to see the effect my speech had had on my team. It was hard to believe, but they didn't look as impressed as I had thought they would. Sighing, I tried again.

'Any questions boys? Yes, you there, with a shirt with a number on it?'

The blonde haired young man was shaking his head as he asked me:

'So why exactly did they replace our coach with a middle aged housewife from England? I mean what could you possibly know about baseball?'

Here was my chance. I was going to show them just how tough I could be.

I leaned into his face and glared at him. Eye to eye.

'Do you think I'm playing hard balls with you son? Does my ass taste like French Vanilla Ice cream?

Look into my eyes?' I pointed two fingers at my eyes and then turned away quickly, before he could respond.

'Any more questions?'

A tall black guy at the back raised his hand.

'Yes?' I said. What's your question son?'

'I don't mean to be disrespectful ma'am, but exactly where is your field of expertise?'

I folded my arms and stared back at him coldly.

'That big green one out there!' I told him, waving my arm in the direction of the locker room door.

'Now does anyone actually have an intelligent question for me?'

A heavily built, bearded young chap with narrow, suspicious eyes stood up. He frowned and scratched his head, opening his mouth several times before any words came out.

I put my hands on my hips and tilted my chin at him. I wasn't about to be intimidated. I tried to evoke my inner Clint Eastwood. Or was it my inner Dumbledore? No matter.

'Yes?' I snapped, drawing myself up to my full height and staring him straight in the eye.

'Lady, I find it hard to belive that you know the first thing about baseball and I can't see how you could have replaced Jim Jimikins as the official coach of the New York Yankees. It's almost like you faked your resume or something...' He trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

I knew I had to play hard balls or I was toast here.

'That's enough of your insolence!' I told him. 'I played rounders at a secondary school level. You dare to question my authority? Ten points off the New York Yankees!'

'What? This isn't Harry Potter! You can't do that!'

'Do you want to make it twenty?' I said coldly.

'No ma'am' he replied, and sat down sadly. He rested his chin on his hockey stick. The tall black lad at the back leaned over and patted him on the shoulder in sympathy. I pretended not to notice.

It was time to teach them some respect.

“I admit it” I said.

“I don’t know who you are. I don’t know how you play. But if you are looking for success, I can tell you how. I don’t have experience. But what I do have are a very particular set of skills; skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people who cross me. If you lose this game, that’ll be the end of it. I will not look for you, I will not pursue you. But if you disrespect me, I will look for you, I will find you, and I will kill you”.

The tall blonde youth that had questioned me earlier raised his hand.

'But isn't that a quote from...'

'Shut it Blondie!' I said.

'10 points from the New York Yankees. Now get out there and win!'

I put my hand up for high fives as they all trooped past me but nobody seemed to notice.

I guess they were too far into the zone after my pep talk.

I think I could be quite good at this.