Each of us was wondering how the other had voted. Shortly afterwards, Monica stepped forwards to read out the result.
“Three… against twenty-three,” she announced.
We were all eager to get more details. Three for what?
“Three in favour of Fred’s idea and twenty-three in favour of Miss Charlotte’s,” Monica explained.
I felt as if I were sprouting wings. I was so happy. Until Fred uttered two shocking short sentences.
“That’s it: I quit. I am no longer part of this team,” he declared as he stormed off.
Chapter 8
The Answer Is in the Sky
We were shattered.
“What a disaster!” Mélodie groaned.
“Now we really are in a massive pickle,” Martin concluded. “They’re going to destroy us.”
“The best thing to do is to cancel the match. After all, what do we care if their school will be named after Tony Brilliant?” Fiona said.
Her proposal made sense. The more you thought about it, the more it looked like the obvious thing to do. As far as we were concerned…
“Cancel the match?! Never!” Miss Charlotte suddenly shouted. “Why? It will be absolutely… fabulous!”
The worst thing was that she actually believed it too. Her face lit up, and she looked pleased as Punch.
“How? Don’t you understand?” Martin let out, impatient. “It’s Fred who scores nearly all our goals. So tell us, how will we cope without him?”
Miss Charlotte was no longer listening. She was looking at the sky, where a flight of birds was passing over.
“Canada geese,” Billy whispered in my ear.
Then our coach finally remembered we were still waiting for a response. But instead of reassuring us, she simply said: “The answer is in the sky.”
And whoosh! Off she went.
Chapter 9
Grasshopper Juice for All
The next day we all felt depressed when we came to the training. Fiona had news about Fred. Disastrous news! The traitor was going to play for our rivals! His mother lives in Black Duck Brook and his father in Blueberry Bay, so he can play for whichever team he wants – he is perfectly entitled to do so.
We were done for. In a pickle. Up the creek. Our opponents were going to make mincemeat of us.
“What you need is a little pick-me-up,” Miss Charlotte decided when she saw us walk onto the field.
She opened her bag and took out a couple of flasks.
“Smalalamiam for everyone!”
We all queued up, like they do in Asterix when the druid Getafix dishes out his magic potion. While we were waiting our turn, we were all trying to guess what Miss Charlotte put in her drink. No one had dared to ask. We all guessed it was a secret. Laurence, who likes to come out with silly comments, suggested it was probably a mixture of fruit juice and… wee!
We all had our ration. It had a strange and at the same time wonderful taste. We all agreed that smalalamiam was delicious.
“And? Have you found the answer in the sky?” Miss Charlotte asked finally.
Billy put his hand up, as if he were in class.
“To win, we must do like the geese,” he answered, sounding very sure of himself.
No one understood what he was going on about, so he explained.
“Geese manage to fly fast and for a long time because they take turns. They form a big V so they can cope with headwinds. The birds up front have to work the hardest, but as soon as they get too tired, they are replaced by others who are less tired.”
“OK… but what does that have to do with football?” Miranda wanted to know.
“What has it got to do with football?” Miss Charlotte cried out enthusiastically. “Helping each other, of course! If the geese were to fly by themselves, they would not get anywhere. They only succeed because they stick together.”
It was genius. I was proud of our coach.
“Miss Charlotte is right,” I added. “None of us could replace Fred individually. But if we stick together, we might have a chance. We have to change positions all the time and pass the ball around a lot. We must all do the best we can.”
We decided to give it a try. There and then, in spite of the fact that it began to drizzle. At the start, we all ran with the ball as far as we could without passing it to anyone. That was how we had always done it. But then, little by little, our way of playing changed. When Monica passed me the ball, I ran as quick as a flash with ball. And then I passed it to Eric, who passed it to Fiona, who passed it to Laurence and… we scored! A real team effort!
From that day on, all the players were making huge progress. Was it because of the smalalamiam that Miss Charlotte gave us before each training session? Was it her geese-based strategy? Or our distraction techniques?
We continued to have fun and kept guessing what Miss Charlotte put in her magic drink. No yak milk, that was for sure! From time to time, Fiona told us about Fred and his team. We all understood that love was in the air for Fred and Fiona.
The early signs indicated that Fred was not all that happy playing for our rivals. Fiona told us that the coach, Reginald Robust, never stopped shouting. He was never pleased and never encouraging.
With us, it was the opposite. With Miss Charlotte we never felt like we were rubbish or useless. Except the day when Martin called Eric a numpty…
Martin was just winding Eric up in order to make it easier to take the ball off him. But Eric responded by calling Martin an idiot. And they got into a fight. Business as usual.
Except that when Miss Charlotte saw this, it was as if she had frozen solid or as if someone had taken the batteries out of her. She stood there without moving a muscle. Like a statue. We got so scared that Laurence separated the two fighting boys.
Miss Charlotte returned to normal – almost, because it was as if something had died inside her. She made a few steps and then announced that the training session was over, even though we had only just started!
Before she left, she told Eric: “Next time, do not waste your anger. Turn it into something positive.”
Eric did not understand. Once again, Billy had to explain: “Next time, instead of hitting Martin on the head, hit the ball into the back of the net.”
The next day, Miss Charlotte was her old self again. As for us, we knew that fights were out of the question. In Miss Charlotte’s rule book, harmony was more important than the number of players.
A week later there was another moment of drama. An even worse one. We had split the team in two and were playing against each other. Billy and I were on the bench and looked on. We were far from disappointed, though, because it was a fantastic match.
As Nadia was running across the field, someone shouted: “King Kong to Quebec.”
Pierre got the ball and wanted to pass it to Laurence. Eric tried to intercept the ball, but Laurence started doing keepie-uppies. It was quite a sight! He was so good that we all forgot about the match and applauded him.
That is when the storm broke out. Not in the sky, but on the football pitch.
It happened when PP arrived.
Chapter 10
Miss Charlotte’s Secret
The anger of our headmistress was like a hurricane. She went straight for Miss Charlotte.
“You gnarled old turnip! You numbskull! You big old twit!” she roared at the top of her voice as she stormed towards our football coach.
Miss Charlotte was waiting for her. She did not seem in the least intimidated. She rather looked as if she felt sorry for PP.
Our headmistress was only a few centimetres away from Miss Charlotte’s face and still hurling abuse at her. At that point our coach did something that surprised us all. Again!
“Poor old thing!” Miss Charlotte exclaimed, looking at Paulette Pesky.
Our coach looked very
intently at our headmistress, and there was something in her eyes that spoke of… tenderness. Yes, I think that is the word I am looking for.
PP’s anger subsided. Our headmistress just seemed sad. And lost.
Miss Charlotte opened her arms wide.
And then, believe or not, PP threw herself into Miss Charlotte’s arms. Not to hit her or to hurt her. But to be comforted!
Our headmistress was sobbing like a child.
“Boohoo! Sniff sniff. Boohoohoo. Sniff sniff. Boohoo!”
Miss Charlotte led PP to some bushes at the far end of the pitch. We appointed Fiona as our spy to see what was going on. When she came back after a while, she told us everything. What a story! Grown-ups can be pretty messed up sometimes!
Paulette Pesky confessed to Miss Charlotte that she wanted to win at all cost. She was not that bothered about the school being renamed after Tony Brilliant. What she really wanted above everything else was to beat her sister.
Yvette and Paulette are twins. No one knows who was born first. Yvette swears it was her, while Paulette says the opposite is true. Ever since they were born, each one of them has always wanted to be the first, the most beautiful, the best.
Our coach listened to our headmistress for a long time. When PP seemed to feel a little better, Miss Charlotte gave her a secret tip. A tip that completely transformed Paulette Pesky.
“You don’t need to compete with your sister,” Miss Charlotte explained to her. “You don’t have to be the best. You are unique. That is enough.”
At first PP stared at Miss Charlotte as if her face were green and she had antennae coming out of her head. Then, little by little, a shy smile began to spread across her face until in the end it turned into a huge grin. She looked at Miss Charlotte as if she had just achieved the impossible.
As Fiona was telling all that, I heard a noise behind us. It was Fred. The Blueberry Bay traitor had become a spy as well!
I watched him sneak off quietly. No one else had seen him.
I wondered if Fred had heard Miss Charlotte’s secret tip. And what he might think of it.
Chapter 11
An Almighty Big Kick!
The morning of the big match I was so nervous that when I finished breakfast I put the milk in the cupboard and the cereal in the fridge. I was about to leave when my dad told me: “Good luck, my son. Have a great match…”
I was really hoping he would leave it at that. That there would be no threats and pressure this time. But no! He added: “Try not to embarrass me! If you do…”
He paused and thought for a bit before continuing: “If you do, I will take it upon myself to train you during the holidays. And believe me, you will learn to score goals or my name is not Roger!”
I felt crushed by my dad’s threat. I would never survive a summer like that. Then I realized that I might not even be playing that day. Little did my dad know. Maybe I would be lucky and not get selected…
When I arrived on the pitch, Laurence cried out: “Everyone is here. We can start the draw.”
Miss Charlotte plunged her hand into a bag that contained little cards with our names on.
Poor Billy! He didn’t make the draw. I on the other hand did.
I felt a little discouraged because my dad would be there. If it weren’t for him, I would probably have been delighted to play.
Even before the start of the match, the difference between the two teams was obvious. While we were gorging ourselves on smalalamiam – no one had discovered the secret ingredients yet! – the members of the other team were pulling faces as they swallowed their yak milk. Then, to help us relax, Miss Charlotte gave us a riddle.
“What is invisible and smells of bananas?”
While we were laughing at the solution (a monkey’s fart!), the other team was exhausting itself by running around the pitch. And while Miss Charlotte showed us how to give massages and repeated how important it was to play well and have a good time, Reginald Robust yelled at his team: “You are here to win! Get it into your thick skulls!”
His voice was threatening and his stare terrifying. Standing next to him, Yvette Pesky was not much more encouraging. I would rather spend a whole day tidying my bedroom than be on their team.
At last the match began. Our opponents were on great form. They kicked the ball as if their lives depended on it. However hard Pierre, our goalie, ran to and fro and jumped up and down to make saves, the other team quickly scored three goals.
Suddenly someone shouted: “Phoebe to Florida!”
And then: “King Kong to Quebec!”
Something magical happened. We felt like one. And this boosted our energy.
We made more and more passes until Fiona got the ball. The crowd was impressed when she did a pirouette, balancing the ball on her head. Many parents were wondering what that was about, but they were captivated nevertheless.
Meanwhile, what do you think Miss Charlotte was doing? She was knitting! Yes, knitting! She was knitting like mad, making a scarf that was already so long it should be in the Guinness World Records. The further the match progressed, the faster her knitting needles were clicking. It was a quite a spectacle. At one point, I saw Fred looking her way. He was dumbstruck, but I could almost have sworn he smiled.
The other team appeared to be more and more discombobulated. While Laurence was showing off his acrobatic tricks, they were so distracted that we were able to score our first goal. And, not long after that, our second one.
The team from Blueberry Bay were up four goals to two when the ball grazed my head.
“Wake up Jeremy! You’re not in bed!” my dad shouted, loud enough for everyone to hear.
I was upset and angry. I looked for my dad in the crowd. My eyes met those of Miss Charlotte. Next to her I recognized PP. She was completely transformed and smiled like never before. I also spotted Marie, my dearest cousin and friend. That comforted me.
Then someone shouted: “Potato to Ontario!”
And Eric passed to me. The ball had almost reached me when I heard: “Get a move on, Jeremy!”
My dad again.
Smoke was starting to come out of my ears when I remembered Miss Charlotte’s advice: turn your anger into something positive.
I took a step back and then booted the ball with all my strength. It was an almighty kick!
The crowd cheered like mad. I had just scored a goal! For the first time in my life!
After that, it all went very fast. Fiona had just intercepted the ball when a player of the other team, a huge gorilla of a guy, tackled her. Fiona fell hard and could not get up.
Play was stopped. Fiona was hurt. She had sprained her ankle. The poor thing was unable to walk. So we had to find a sub.
The worst thing was that the referee didn’t say anything. And instead of telling his gorilla off, Reginald Robust patted him on the back. I know, because I saw it with my own eyes. I also saw Fred protest to his coach, making wild gestures.
Our team gathered round Miss Charlotte and her leather bag, which contained the little slips of papers with our names on. A storm was brewing. We were very angry with the player who had tackled Fiona, and also with the referee, who had not done anything.
Miss Charlotte was about to dip her hand into the bag when someone shouted: “No! Wait!”
It was Fred. He wanted to rejoin our team. He’d had enough of Reginald Robust and the gorilla who had hurt his sweetheart.
Laurence wrote Fred’s name on a bit of paper. There was a lot of tension. We all really wanted to crush our rivals. Everyone wanted Fred to be selected. Everyone except, maybe, Billy. He was still hoping he might at last have a chance to play.
Miss Charlotte plunged her hand in the bag and took out a little slip of paper. She unfolded it and read: “Fred Ferocio!”
For a short while I thought she had done it on purpose, that it was no
coincidence she had picked Fred. But I did not have much time to think it over, because Fred roared: “We’re going to thrash them!”
Chapter 12
Goals and Kisses
No one moved. Something in Fred’s tone had struck us. Miss Charlotte did not say a word, but we could all see what she was thinking. The expression on her face told us that all those weeks of training, all those litres of smalalamiam should not have led to this.
Not far from us, Fiona was sitting on a bench, with her leg up and a bag of ice on her ankle. Fred looked at her for a moment before speaking to Miss Charlotte.
“Do you have a better suggestion?” he asked, almost sounding polite.
“The best revenge would be for you all to have a really, really good time!” Miss Charlotte replied.
Her words struck a chord in my heart.
“She’s right. Instead of behaving ourselves like them, we should show them how you can have fun on the pitch.”
“And, Fred? What do you think?” Fiona asked, smiling warmly and her eyes shining.
“Well… OK then!” said Fred. “We’ll show them that as well as being good players we can also have fun.”
Miss Charlotte was right. It turned into a fabulous match. Monica sang bits from her favourite song as she was dribbling the ball with her feet. Nicholas surprised everyone by doing two backflips, while Theo made a spectacular jump. Fred made a couple of surging runs across the pitch, beating all his opponents. And the players from Black Duck Brook kept on shouting out their secret codes as they were passing the ball around.
We had a whale of a time. We laughed and jumped and shouted. And Fred scored a goal too. But most of all, we had a really, really good time. The other team seemed more and more demoralized. As if our joy depressed them. Maybe they realized they did not understand the true beauty of the game.
The New Football Coach Page 3