by Theo Walcott
‘And your school team?’ enquired Marshall. ‘You have a school team?’
Mr Burrows gulped. Mr Wood was trying not to smile.
‘School team,’ Mr Burrows stammered. ‘Yes . . . yes . . . of course we do.’
Mr Burrows sank back into his chair, exhausted, as the whole school applauded Marshall Jones.
CHAPTER 14
IT WAS SATURDAY morning. TJ and Joey were waiting outside the school gates when a car pulled up and Miss Berry climbed out, smiling.
Mr Coggins heaved himself out of the passenger seat. ‘It’s not in my job description, this isn’t,’ he grumbled, looking up at the grey sky and the drizzle that was falling from it.
‘It’s so kind of you, Mr Coggins,’ Miss Berry said, smiling sweetly at him and taking his arm. ‘I really don’t know how the school would run without you.’
‘A whole lot better, probably,’ Jamie whispered in TJ’s ear. ‘Is this it then? There’s not many of us.’
It was true. Tulsi had arrived, and Rafi and Rob. Rodrigo stood nearby with his mum and dad. Then there was Joey and Miss Berry and Mr Wood, but that was it.
‘My mum and dad are coming,’ TJ told Jamie. ‘But they were still in bed when me and Joey left.’
‘My brother Matt’s coming too,’ Jamie grinned. ‘And he’ll be fed up if your sister doesn’t turn up.’
They all walked across the playground and stood gazing at the field. It was a horrible mess, and suddenly it looked terribly big.
‘OK,’ Mr Wood said. ‘The first thing to do is to fill in that hole that used to be a pond. Just wait here a moment.’
He went out to the street and a few moments later drove in through the gates and straight across the playground. He opened the back of his car and took out two wheelbarrows and an armful of spades.
‘That’ll be where the centre circle is,’ TJ said, looking at the hole.
‘It’s a very big hole,’ said Tulsi doubtfully.
‘And a very big pile of earth to put in it,’ Rafi said, staring at the heap behind the empty pond. It was covered with straggling weeds and bits of rock and rotting logs.
‘They made the hole with a digger,’ Jamie said. ‘This was meant to be a wildlife mini-hill. The logs and rocks are homes for insects and stuff.’
‘Habitats,’ said Rob. ‘We’d better move them to the edge carefully.’
Mr Wood and Miss Berry heaved the black plastic liner out of the hole and handed out spades and gloves. Rob and Jamie moved the logs and rocks. There was nothing under them but a few woodlice. Then they all started to dig. They worked hard for half an hour and then TJ stopped and straightened up. His back hurt and he was sweating. ‘It’s hard, isn’t it?’ said Joey.
‘Right,’ TJ replied. ‘And look. We’ve hardly done anything.’
‘Why did Burrows have to make such an enormous pond?’ groaned Tulsi.
‘OK, everyone,’ Mr Wood said. ‘Take a break. It’s going to take a long time, this. I was hoping more people would come, but we’ll do it on our own if we have to.’
TJ could see that no one believed it. Every time he looked at the hole it seemed bigger, and then there were all the other holes where weeds and brambles had tangled among the dead trees. They would never do it on their own.
Then he heard a clattering on the playground and saw Tommy’s red hair zooming towards him on a skateboard, and Tommy wasn’t alone. He slid elegantly to a halt and flipped the board up into his hands. ‘I brought some mates,’ he said with a grin. ‘They all want to help.’
There were at least ten of them, teenagers mostly, but some of them were even older.
One of them was nearly as tall as Mr Wood. They all parked their boards and grabbed spades. Other people were arriving too, kids from their class, and their mums and dads, and they’d all brought garden tools. But there was still no sign of TJ’s mum and dad.
Then TJ saw their car edging slowly in through the gate. He put his spade down and ran across the playground. ‘You’re late!’ he said. ‘I thought you were never coming.’
TJ’s dad just smiled and opened the back of the car. He pulled out boxes of drink and cakes and biscuits. ‘It’s a big job, this,’ he said. ‘You’re going to need refuelling. This lot will get you through the morning. Tulsi’s mum and dad are bringing their barbecue. Look, here they are!’
More people were arriving all the time now. ‘Your dad’s been on the phone all week,’ his mum said. ‘Everyone’s dead keen to help. Look, here’s a whole crowd of them.’
Janice and her team of dinner ladies had arrived, and TJ was amazed to see the Reception class teacher following them though the gate. ‘It’s about time something like this happened,’ she said to Janice as they went by. ‘That Mr Wood has really stirred things up. This was a jolly good school when I first came here. And I don’t see why it shouldn’t be a good school again.’
‘Exactly,’ TJ’s dad said. ‘People power, that’s what we’ve got here. Who knows what we could do next. Paint some of those windows, maybe? Smarten the place up a bit. We could—’
‘We need to fill in these holes before we do anything else, Dad,’ TJ interrupted. ‘Are you going to help, or are you just going to stand there talking?’
‘You’ve got a nerve,’ laughed his dad. ‘OK, son, give me a spade and I’ll show you how it’s done.’
CHAPTER 15
THEY WORKED HARD all morning. So hard that TJ never even noticed the tall man in the woolly hat who wheeled barrow after barrow full of weeds and dead plants and rubbish to a heap near the fence. Then he saw that a couple of the mums were nudging each other and giggling. ‘It’s him,’ one of them was saying. ‘I know it is.’
‘You talk to him, then.’
‘I can’t!’
Mr Wood put down his spade with a grin.
‘Hey, Marshall,’ he called. ‘There’s a couple of ladies would like to meet you!’
TJ thought he had never seen anyone turn red so fast. But Marshall asked the mums all about their children and the school, and soon they were chatting happily to him while all the other parents and helpers gathered round. When Marshall had finished signing autographs he sat down next to TJ. ‘Great food,’ he said.
‘Mmmmm,’ was all TJ could reply with his mouth full of burger.
‘Looks like you’re going to have a pitch then,’ Marshall said. ‘Hey, there, nice to meet you.’ TJ looked up and saw Tulsi standing there. ‘I saw you the other day, didn’t I? On the playground?’ Marshall said.
Tulsi couldn’t speak as Marshall held out a hand. Finally she shook hands with him, but she still didn’t say a word. ‘You must be Tulsi,’ Marshall said. ‘Johnny told me about you. Says you’ve got talent. He says you’re going to have a great team.’
‘I don’t know why he thinks that,’ said Rafi, who had joined them. ‘Last time we played we were rubbish.’
‘Oh, yes,’ laughed Marshall. ‘Your goalie knocked down the head teacher from twenty-five metres. Always good to have a goalie with a powerful kick!’ TJ felt himself going red. ‘Anyway,’ Marshall said, ‘I have a surprise for you guys. But I’ll let Johnny tell you once we’ve finished laying that grass down.’
They looked where Marshall was pointing and saw a truck pulling onto the field with a load of turf on the back. ‘Glad to help,’ said the man from the garden centre when Mr Wood thanked him. ‘Come on, I’ll show you how to lay it properly. Football pitch, is it? Better make sure we do it right then.’
By the end of the afternoon the work was finished – and everyone was exhausted. The grey clouds cleared and the sun came out. The pitch looked a little odd with the big new patches of dark green turf.
‘It’s not perfect,’ said Mr Wood, ‘but it’s good enough to play football on. Anyone fancy a game?’ His question was met with loud groans. ‘I didn’t think so,’ Mr Wood laughed. ‘Thanks, everyone, for working so hard. It’s been a brilliant day. And I’ve got some good news for you. Marshall has arranged for ten of yo
u kids to go and watch Wanderers tomorrow. I’ve put your names in my hat and the first ten to come out will be the lucky ones.’
TJ could hardly bear to watch. Tulsi was the first of his friends to be chosen, then Rafi, Tommy and Jamie. Then two more girls he hardly knew, Leila and Ebony, who screamed when they were chosen. Then Rodrigo and Jay. And then, finally, TJ heard his own name called. Danny’s was the last name out of the hat.
‘Thank goodness for that,’ said his mum. ‘You can let go of my hand now, TJ. I thought you were going to crush it to pieces!’
‘I’m sorry I can’t take everyone,’ said Marshall. ‘But you can all come and watch Parkview play Hillside. It’ll probably be even better than watching Wanderers!’
‘Bad luck, Rob,’ said TJ, seeing the disappointment on Rob’s face.
‘It’s OK,’ Rob said. ‘It’s on TV. I’ll see if I can spot you.’
The next day TJ felt stiff all over. ‘You’re not the only one,’ his mum said when he hobbled downstairs for breakfast. ‘I could hardly move this morning.’
‘Me neither,’ Lou said, but she looked happy enough. TJ had seen her working alongside Jamie’s brother all day.
‘Is Matt your boyfriend now?’ he asked innocently, and enjoyed watching Lou blush.
At lunch time TJ and his dad set out for the Wanderers ground. On the way they picked up Tulsi, Jamie and Rafi. ‘I can’t believe this is happening,’ Tulsi said, for the five hundredth time, as they left the car park in the city centre and mingled with the thousands of Wanderers fans who were making their way to the ground. They reached the end of the street and the Piper Stadium towered in front of them, a glittering wall of glass and steel.
‘Over there,’ said TJ, consulting the map that Mr Wood had given him. ‘We have to find the entrance to the River Lounge.’
They didn’t have to search far because Rafi spotted Tommy’s red hair and they made their way over to meet him. Tommy’s dad had brought Danny, Rodrigo, Leila and Ebony. A few moments later Mr Wood arrived, and TJ was amazed to see that Rob was with him, clutching his notebook in one hand.
‘I couldn’t leave Rob behind,’ Mr Wood told them. ‘He’s part of our coaching staff. Marshall says he can squeeze him in.’ Just then, Marshall appeared in the doorway dressed in a very smart suit and a bright orange shirt.
‘We’ll meet you kids back here after the game, then,’ said TJ’s dad.
‘Are you crazy?’ Marshall said. ‘I got seats for all of you! Come on in.’
‘You’re not playing then?’ asked Tulsi, as Marshall led them through an underground passage.
‘I’ve been injured,’ Marshall said. ‘That’s why I had the time to come and help you all.’
‘You don’t look injured,’ Rafi said.
‘Well, no. I can walk just fine. Run, even. But we’re talking about playing in a Premier League match here. They won’t let me play until they’re absolutely sure my ankle’s OK.’
There was a sudden surge of noise from ahead of them and they emerged from the tunnel into dazzling sunlight. Below them, on the brilliant green pitch, the Wanderers players were going through their warm-ups, almost close enough to touch. Away to their left, the City players were doing the same thing. As TJ watched, they all ran to the side of the pitch and that end of the ground erupted into singing and chanting. ‘They always bring a lot of supporters,’ Marshall said, as he signed autographs for the fans on either side of them. ‘But ours are better,’ he added, as the whole stadium echoed to the sound of the Wanderers anthem.
Marshall guided them to their seats, pausing as he went to shake hands with dozens of fans.
‘They love Marshall,’ Mr Wood told TJ and his friends. ‘This is the only club he’s ever played for. He’s been here since he was sixteen.’
‘Mr Wood,’ asked TJ. ‘How do you know Marshall?’
It was the question they’d all been wanting to ask. But if Mr Wood replied they didn’t hear him. In a deafening roar, City kicked off.
CHAPTER 16
RIGHT FROM THE start it all went wrong for Wanderers. Every time one of their players received the ball, a City player was right on top of them, preventing them from passing, forcing them back. City had a small midfield player with spiky blond hair who was completely ruthless in the tackle.
‘Gary Devlin,’ Marshall said grimly as Devlin slid in to make yet another tackle and come away with the ball. ‘He’s a complete pain. We have to do something about him.’
But Devlin played a neat one-two with another City player and suddenly he was in the penalty area, driving towards the goal. A tall Wanderers central defender stretched out a leg as Marshall and Mr Wood both leaped to their feet yelling ‘NO!’ The defender missed the ball completely and Devlin went crashing to the ground. The referee blew his whistle and pointed to the penalty spot. The Wanderers players didn’t argue.
The ground fell silent as Chester Smith, the veteran City striker, stepped up to take the penalty. He gave the goalkeeper no chance, planting the ball firmly into the bottom corner, beyond the keeper’s outstretched fingers.
City were completely in charge. TJ watched with admiration as their players sprayed passes all around the pitch and the Wanderers players struggled to get hold of the ball.
When the teams left the field at the end of the first half, the City players applauded their fans, but the Wanderers players shook their heads and looked at the ground.
‘I wish I was playing,’ Marshall said. ‘I hate sitting up here, not being able to change anything.’
‘Why is Paco Sanchez playing out wide?’ asked Rob, looking up from his notebook. ‘It’s not his best position. He’s only touched the ball six times, but all his passes have been good.’
‘You’re right,’ Marshall said, looking curiously at Rob. ‘Paco hates playing out there. That’s where I should be, and Paco should be in the centre, just behind the strikers.’
‘Well,’ said Rob, ‘if I was the manager, I’d bring Dexter Gordon on to play wide. He’s been doing brilliantly in the reserves. And I’d put Paco back where he should be.’
Marshall shook his head. ‘He won’t do that,’ he said. ‘Not in a big game like this. Dexter’s only seventeen and he’s never even started a match in the Premier League.’
‘Well, look at that!’ Mr Wood said five minutes later as the teams came out of the tunnel. ‘Well done, Rob!’ The referee was holding up the substitutes board, and Dexter Gordon was preparing to come onto the pitch.
Paco Sanchez played exactly where Rob had suggested. As soon as a Wanderers defender won the ball, Sanchez was there, calling for it. Most of the time Gary Devlin was right on his heels, but Sanchez controlled every ball that was played to him so quickly that Devlin simply couldn’t tackle him without giving away a free kick. As TJ watched, Sanchez received the ball on the Wanderers left, just twenty metres from where they were sitting. Devlin lunged fiercely to try and win it, but Sanchez pulled the ball away so fast that Devlin’s boots crashed into his shin. ‘OFF . . . OFF . . . OFF . . .’ chanted the angry Wanderers fans.
The referee pulled the red card from his pocket and raised it high in the air. After a few moments, Paco Sanchez climbed stiffly to his feet.
‘You show them, Paco,’ Marshall yelled, and Paco looked up and waved, then grimaced as he put his weight on his leg. ‘He’ll be fine,’ Marshall said. ‘He’s a tough little guy.’
Paco soon ran off the effects of his injury, but something strange seemed to have happened. ‘It’s always hard against ten men,’ Mr Wood explained. ‘They’ve all pulled back to defend. They’re in the lead, after all.’
There seemed to be no space for the Wanderers forwards. Time after time they launched attacks only to find that there was no way through the packed City defence. Out on the wing, young Dexter Gordon controlled the ball and TJ heard spectators yelling at him. ‘Skin him, Dexter.’
‘Go on, lad, get forward!’
‘Take him on!’
But Dexter pl
ayed a simple pass infield to Paco Sanchez, who spread the ball wide to the other side of the field. The crowd groaned.
‘It’s the right thing to do,’ Rob insisted. ‘Wanderers have to keep the ball and make City run around and chase it. That’s how to make the extra man count.’
Marshall laughed. ‘Who is your head coach exactly?’ he asked Mr Wood. ‘Is it you, or is it Rob?’
‘Yes!’ screamed Tulsi, nearly bursting TJ’s eardrum. ‘Go on!’
At last, Dexter had found some space, right in front of them, and he was racing down the line. Sanchez saw his chance and played the ball over the head of the last defender right into Dexter’s path.
Dexter hit his cross left-footed, curling away from the goalkeeper, and the centre forward’s head smashed the ball into the roof of the net. Dwight Fanshawe didn’t waste time on celebrations. He grabbed the ball and raced back to the centre circle, giving a thumbs-up to Dexter Gordon as he ran.
The display on the stand read 90.00. Down below them the fourth official held up a board.
‘Three minutes,’ said TJ. ‘Come on, Wanderers!’ he yelled.
The whole crowd was yelling now, urging Wanderers forward, but as the seconds ticked away, attack after attack came to nothing. There was time for just one, final attempt. Dexter Gordon hit a cross into the penalty area and the crowd groaned as the City keeper punched it clear. The ball fell towards the ground – and there was Paco Sanchez, waiting. There was no time for him to control it. TJ could see from the shape of his body what he was going to do.
The whole crowd held its breath. Paco’s boot intersected perfectly with the ball, and it rocketed towards the goal. There was a loud crack as it hit the inside of the post, flashed behind the keeper and nestled in the bottom of the net.
CHAPTER 17
PACO SANCHEZ’S VOLLEY kept repeating itself in TJ’s brain. That, and the way the crowd had reacted. He could still see Paco standing in front of the massive bank of cheering fans with his hands raised in the air and a huge smile on his face. It must be the greatest feeling in the world, TJ thought. And then he thought – maybe one day that could be me. It was the first time he had imagined anything like that. Maybe . . .