by Theo Walcott
Contents
Cover
About the Book
Title Page
Dedication
Squad Sheet
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
A Note from Theo
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Also by Theo Walcott
Copyright
About the Book
TJ can’t get enough of football!
But the pupils at Parkview are worried that without anyone to coach them or anywhere to play they’ll never have a proper team.
Then Mr Wood arrives at school and the game starts to look a whole lot more exciting . . .
Also available from the Arsenal and England football star:
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SQUAD SHEET
TJ: A skilful forward with an outstanding turn of speed. He has an incredibly powerful shot, and he’s good in the air too.
Tulsi: A strong, powerful striker. When she has the ball at her feet all she thinks about is scoring!
Rodrigo: He’s from Portugal and he doesn’t speak much English, but he’s a wizard with a football in midfield or defence.
Rafi: A midfielder who never stops running and tackling. His mazy runs are legendary and he always brings a ball to school!
Tommy: When he’s not skateboarding he’s a fearsome tackler in Parkview’s defence.
Jamie: A big, strong defender. It’s almost impossible to get past him, but when he clears the ball it could go anywhere.
Danny: He’s not popular, but he’s a terrific defender and Parkview can’t do without him.
Ariyan: He can play anywhere and do a good job for the team. A really useful squad member.
Cameron: He plays in midfield or defence. Always works hard and almost never gives the ball away.
Rob: The team statistician. He dreams about being a footballer, but he’s too nervous to join in training.
CHAPTER 1
‘WHAT DO YOU think?’ asked Tulsi. ‘Shall we ask him to play?’
‘He’ll get those shiny shoes dirty,’ said Jamie.
For a moment they both looked at the new boy, TJ, who was standing nervously on the edge of the playground. Suddenly Tulsi grinned. ‘Hey, you!’ she yelled. ‘D’you want a game?’
Before he could reply, she put the ball down and hit a beautiful, curving pass towards him. It curled behind the kids from Class 2 and thudded into TJ’s chest.
‘What the . . .?’ TJ looked down at the muddy mark on his clean white shirt, and then he laughed. He bent down and picked up the ball. ‘Here,’ he said, walking towards them. ‘That was amazing! Can you do it again?’
‘Don’t encourage her,’ said Jamie. ‘She already thinks she’s a superstar.’
‘I don’t think,’ Tulsi said. ‘I know. I play for a proper team,’ she told TJ. ‘Canby Road Girls. We won the league last season and I scored eleven goals. I’m Tulsi and this is Jamie.’
Jamie was a giant, with spiky, hedgehog hair and the widest smile TJ had ever seen. Another boy ran past and knocked the ball out of Tulsi’s hands onto the ground. He dribbled away, weaving in and out of the little kids. ‘That’s Rafi,’ Tulsi laughed. ‘It’s his ball. He doesn’t like standing still.’
‘Do you like football?’ Jamie asked TJ.
‘Well, yeah. But at my last school we just played rounders.’
‘That’s crazy,’ said Tulsi. ‘What kind of rubbish school wouldn’t let you play footie?’
‘It wasn’t a rubbish school,’ TJ said hotly, but Jamie interrupted.
‘Don’t listen to her,’ he said. ‘We can’t play football here either, only on the playground or in the park. And we don’t even play rounders. All the teachers hate PE.’
‘And Mr Burrows dug up the playing field last year,’ Tulsi said gloomily. ‘He said it was going to be a wildlife reserve but then he got ill and no one looked after it. The pond leaked and the trees all died.’ She pointed at a patch of brown grass with a big hole in the middle of it.
‘You must have somewhere to do games and stuff,’ said TJ.
‘We were going to use the park. It’s only down the road. It was all arranged and then something happened and we couldn’t. I don’t know why.’
‘Come on,’ said Jamie when the bell went. ‘I bet you’re in our class. It’s through here.’
‘I’m not sure,’ TJ said. ‘I came with my mum and dad yesterday and Mr Burrows said I was in Mr Wood’s class.’
‘That’s the one,’ Jamie told him. ‘Mr Wood is new too. We haven’t met him yet either.’
‘We’re always having new teachers,’ Rafi said, as he dribbled his ball along the crowded corridor, bouncing it off the walls. ‘None of them can stand it for long.’
‘He’ll take one look and then go home again,’ Tulsi said. She pushed the classroom door open. Everyone was yelling. Two boys were throwing a bag backwards and forwards and another boy was buzzing around them like a small, angry bee, trying to grab it back.
‘Hey, Danny!’ yelled Jamie, striding forward and catching the bag. ‘Leave Rob alone.’
Danny made another grab for the bag, and he and Jamie fell to the floor in a heap, knocking over a couple of chairs. TJ stepped backwards just as Rafi was trying to balance his football on his nose and the ball went bouncing off across the classroom. Suddenly everything went quiet. TJ looked round and saw a tall man in a suit standing in the middle of the classroom. He looked down at the bouncing ball.
‘I suppose this is how you got rid of all those teachers last year,’ the man said finally. ‘Well, you won’t get rid of me so easily. Who does this ball belong to?’
‘Me,’ said Rafi. ‘I’m Rafi.’
‘I’m pleased to meet you, Rafi. I’m Mr Wood, and your ball control is terrible. I’ll look after this until it improves, I think.’
Mr Wood put his foot on the ball, and then suddenly it was in his hands. It was like magic.
‘But, sir,’ said Rafi. ‘It’s the only ball we’ve got.’
‘Tough. Like I say, you should learn to control it. Now, if these two clowns who are rolling around on the floor will get up, maybe we can get on with some work.’
CHAPTER 2
‘I HATE HIM,’ said Tulsi in the playground after lunch.
‘He’s the scariest teacher we’ve ever had,’ Jamie said.
‘He’s mean,’ grumbled Rafi. ‘He stole my ball.’
‘Yeah, but he’s right, isn’t he?’ Tulsi said. ‘You can’t control it. And now we’ve got nothing to play with.’
‘Maybe you should try bringing your own ball sometimes,’ Rafi replied angrily.
‘Stop arguing, you two,’ said Jamie. ‘We can play with this fir cone. Me and TJ against you and Rafi. Here, TJ.’
The fir cone bobbled over the tarmac. TJ kicked it, and it went
spinning off across the playground. They all ran after it, dodging between the other kids. TJ reached the wall where the cone had stopped. He turned round, laughing. The others were still plodding towards him. The small boy, Rob, was following behind them with a notebook in his hand.
‘How did you get to be that quick?’ asked Tulsi.
‘Dunno,’ said TJ. ‘Look out. Here comes Mr Wood.’
‘Stand on that cone,’ Jamie hissed. ‘We’re not supposed to play with them.’
TJ put his foot on the cone as Mr Wood approached. ‘So, what are you lot up to now?’ he asked.
‘Nothing, Mr Wood,’ Rafi said.
The teacher looked at them for a moment or two, then he brought out Rafi’s football from behind his back. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘I wouldn’t want you to get into trouble for playing with fir cones, and your ball control isn’t going to improve if you don’t practise, is it?’
They all shook their heads. Mr Wood looked around at the crowded playground and the brown grass with the dead trees.
‘There’s not much room to play, is there?’ he said. ‘Where do you do PE?’
‘We don’t,’ Tulsi said. ‘Not since Mr Potter left, and even then it was rubb—’ She stopped, embarrassed.
‘I get the picture,’ Mr Wood said. He looked at the grass again and shook his head. ‘Listen, I’ll tell the Midday Supervisors to keep the little ones off this part of the playground. You could use that bit of wall as a goal.’
They were all speechless. Mr Wood turned and walked away to speak to Janice, the head dinner lady. Halfway there, he paused. ‘No more football in the classroom, OK?’ he said. They all nodded.
‘I don’t believe it,’ Rafi said.
‘We’ve never had our own bit of the playground,’ said Tulsi. ‘Who’s going in goal? Headers and volleys, OK?’
‘Me,’ said TJ. ‘I’ve always wanted to be a goalie.’
Tulsi and Rafi were attackers and Jamie was the defender. Tulsi lifted the ball into the air with one foot and tried to knock it over Jamie’s head to where Rafi was waiting. Jamie jumped and the ball cannoned off the back of his head straight at TJ’s goal. TJ moved quickly to one side and plucked the ball out of the air.
‘Hey!’ said Tulsi. ‘That was good. Maybe you really are a goalkeeper.’
TJ was enjoying himself. He stopped almost everything they headed or volleyed at him. Then Tulsi missed with a volley.
‘Go on, TJ,’ she said. ‘My turn in goal.’
TJ glanced over at Rob, who was writing something in his notebook. TJ wondered what it was.
‘Have you played this game before?’ Jamie asked him.
TJ shook his head. ‘Not exactly like this.’
‘It’s dead simple. It’s me and you attacking. We’re only allowed to score with headers or volleys. If you miss, like Tulsi just did, then you go in goal. Or if you score five. That’s the way we play, anyway. Here, I’ll cross it for you.’
‘I hate headers,’ TJ began, but the ball was already flying towards him. Oh, well, he thought. I might as well try. He squeezed his eyes shut and felt a stinging thud as the ball collided with his nose. It always happened.
‘Nice one,’ called Jamie. ‘Oh!’
TJ opened his eyes and saw the ball ballooning high over the wall and into the garden beyond. They all stood, listening.
‘I don’t think it broke anything,’ Tulsi said at last.
Rafi looked around the playground. Janice was busy with a little girl who’d cut her knee and all the other dinner ladies were laughing together. No one was watching. ‘We can get it if we’re quick,’ Rafi said.
‘Jamie should go,’ said Tulsi. ‘It was a terrible cross.’
TJ looked at the wall. He could climb it easily. ‘I headed it,’ he said. ‘I’ll go.’ And before they could argue he had pulled himself up onto the top of the wall and dropped into the garden below.
CHAPTER 3
TJ HAD LANDED in the middle of some very prickly bushes. His heart was beating fast. What if there was a fierce dog? What if there was someone actually in the garden?
He peered out from between the bushes. He could see a narrow strip of grass, and flower beds, and some garden chairs. He could see the windows staring down at him like eyes, but he couldn’t see the football. The shouts from the playground on the other side of the wall seemed a long way away. Then he heard Tulsi’s voice as her head popped over the wall.
‘It’s down there,’ she hissed, pointing. ‘By that chair. Quick!’
TJ ran out from the bushes, dashed across the grass and picked up the ball. When he turned back, Tulsi’s face had gone. He ran to the foot of the wall, chucked the ball over, and began to climb. ‘It was easy,’ he said, as he reached the top. ‘I—’
He stopped. There wasn’t a sound from the playground. He looked down and saw Janice and the other dinner ladies, all standing there looking up at him.
But that wasn’t all. A woman teacher with a long skirt and a little black jacket was walking across the playground towards them. She had short grey hair and enormous glasses that made her eyes look huge. ‘You, boy!’ she yelled at TJ, waving her hand at him. ‘Get down from there at once.’
Danny was walking by her side. ‘I told you, Mrs Logan,’ he said. ‘Mr Wood confiscated that ball this morning. I bet they nicked it from the classroom.’
‘No, we didn’t,’ Tulsi said. ‘Mr Wood brought us the ball himself. And he said we could play here.’
‘Be quiet, Tulsi,’ Mrs Logan snapped. ‘Give me that football, Rafi, and go and stand by the wall. And the rest of you too. No, not you,’ she said to TJ. ‘You can have a word with Mr Burrows. I haven’t met you before, have I?’
‘No, miss,’ TJ said. ‘I’m new. This is my first day.’
‘Wait,’ called Mr Wood, hurrying across the playground. ‘Is there a problem, Mrs Logan?’
‘I should jolly well think there is, Mr Wood. The children in your class have been causing havoc with this football, which they took from your classroom without permission.’
‘I think there’s been a misunderstanding,’ Mr Wood said with a smile. ‘I gave them the ball. And I asked these lovely ladies to clear a space for them to practise in. Isn’t that right, ladies?’
Janice laughed. ‘It’s true, Mrs Logan. Rafi and his friends were playing nicely too.’
Mrs Logan started to go red. She gave Danny a very nasty look. ‘Well,’ she said finally. ‘That doesn’t alter the fact that this boy was caught red-handed climbing over the wall. He’s in serious trouble.’
‘Well, it is his first day,’ Mr Wood said. ‘Do you mind if I deal with him, Mrs Logan?’
‘Fine,’ Mrs Logan said, after a long pause. ‘But I shall be keeping an eye on you, young man.’
‘Did you cause any damage?’ Mr Wood asked TJ as Mrs Logan walked away with her nose in the air.
‘No, Mr Wood.’
‘Well, even so, it wasn’t a sensible thing to do. Don’t do it again.’
‘I won’t. Sorry, Mr Wood.’
TJ tried to look sorry, but it was hard, because he could see that there was a glint in Mr Wood’s eye as he gazed after Mrs Logan.
‘What you kids need is a football pitch,’ he said, looking at the brown grass.
‘It’s a shame,’ said Janice, the dinner lady. ‘There’s nothing for the kids to do at break times. You can’t blame them if they get a bit wild sometimes.’
‘Well, why don’t we give them something to play with?’ said Mr Wood. ‘We could get some more balls out. And skipping ropes. How about that?’
‘You’ll be lucky,’ Janice said. ‘The PE cupboard is locked and most of the stuff in there is about a million years old.’
‘I’ll have a word with Mr Burrows. And meanwhile, TJ, no more rock-climbing, OK?’ TJ nodded.
‘The rest of you, you’d better practise,’ Mr Wood said, chucking the ball to Rafi. ‘You’re going to need it!’
‘What did he mean?’ asked Rafi.
<
br /> ‘No idea,’ Tulsi said. ‘Come on, TJ. Perhaps it’ll be safer if you go back in goal.’
CHAPTER 4
‘WE GO TO the park after school, most nights,’ Jamie said at the end of the day. ‘Are you coming, TJ?’
‘Maybe tomorrow,’ TJ said. ‘I’d better not be late home.’
He watched Jamie, Rafi and Tulsi run off down the street, Rafi dribbling his football. TJ wondered if he took it to bed with him at night. Then he heard a shout and saw Rob running towards him. Danny and his friend Carl were chasing him. They stopped and walked off when they saw TJ. ‘Yeah, go on, you cowards,’ Rob yelled after them. ‘Run away!’
‘Hey,’ said TJ. ‘There’s no need to wind them up.’
‘Well, they are cowards,’ Rob said. ‘They only pick on me ’cause I’m small.’
‘Where do you live?’ TJ asked.
‘Churchill Road.’
‘That’s on the way to my house, I think. Come on. We can go together.’
They walked a short way. ‘Hey, Rob,’ asked TJ. ‘What do you write in that notebook of yours?’
‘You’ll laugh,’ Rob said.
‘No, I won’t.’
‘OK, then,’ said Rob after a moment. He stopped and took the notebook out of his bag. ‘I collect stats,’ he said. ‘Like, this is Wanderers v Arsenal last weekend, see? Goal attempts, passes completed, corners, goal kicks. It’s not as accurate as I’d like it to be,’ he went on very seriously, ‘because you can’t see everything on the TV. The clubs use computers and video cameras.’
TJ stared at the pages of numbers and the clever little diagrams Rob had drawn. ‘These are amazing,’ he said. ‘But what were you doing at lunch time?’
‘I’ll show you. Look, this is you in goal. Twelve saves to your right. Five to your left. Not bad.’
‘Thanks,’ said TJ.
‘That header was rubbish though,’ Rob continued.
TJ laughed. ‘I hate heading the ball. It always smacks me in the face.’
‘That’s because you shut your eyes. You need to practise.’
‘So how come you don’t play if you know all this stuff?’