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Jasper Zammit (Soccer Legend) #1: The Game of Life
ePub ISBN 9781742745299
Published by Random House Australia Pty Ltd
Level 3, 100 Pacific Highway, North Sydney, NSW 2060
www.randomhouse.com.au
First published by Random House Australia in 2005
Copyright © Johnny Warren and Deborah Abela 2005
The moral right of the authors has been asserted.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted by any person or entity, including internet search engines or retailers, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying (except under the statutory exceptions provisions of the Australian Copyright Act 1968), recording, scanning or by any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written permission of Random House Australia.
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National Library of Australia
Cataloguing-in-Publication Entry
Warren, Johnny, 1943–2004.
Jasper Zammit: (soccer legend) 1: the game of life.
1. Soccer – Juvenile fiction. I. Abela, Deborah. II. Title.
A823.3
For children.
ISBN 1 74166 066 1.
ISBN 978 1 74166 066 1.
Cover and internal design by Lore Foye
Cover photo courtesy Photolibrary
For Johnny Warren
An Australian football (soccer) legend
CONTENTS
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Imprint Page
Dedication
RULE #1: Always keep your eye on the ball
RULE #2: Watch out for curved balls
RULE #3: Be ready for any surprise
RULE #4: No matter how bad things seem, stay positive
RULE #5: Make the soccer ball your best friend
RULE #6: It’s not how you look but how you play the game
RULE #7: Keep your cool
RULE #8: Know when to make your move
RULE #9: If in doubt, play your way out
RULE #10: Don’t let off-field action interfere with your game
RULE #11: Always play with confidence
RULE #12: Stay relaxed and focused under pressure
RULE #13: Don’t let anyone put you off your game
RULE #14: Every player has bad days
RULE #15: Sometimes you need to rethink your game plan
RULE #16: Don’t be intimidated by other players
RULE #17: Keep focused on your goals
RULE #18: Always play as a team
RULE #19: Always present yourself well
RULE #20: Don’t ever be afraid to take a shot
Glossary
Acknowledgements
Deborah Abela
Johnny Warren
Have you read these?
Max Remy Surperspy Series
JOHNNY SAYS:
When I was playing soccer as a kid, lots of teams didn’t have much equipment. Our goalkeeper used comics for shin pads – he’d shove them down the front of his socks, and they worked quite well! When all the action was down the other end of the field, he’d take the comics out and read them. We were forever yelling at him to get his comics back in his socks and watch the game. I wouldn’t recommend doing this in a real game! It’s important to stay focused the whole time, as you never know when a long shot’s going to come from nowhere to take you by surprise.
‘Listen to that crowd! You can almost see the tension spilling out of the stands into this electrifying match. And the man who’s responsible for setting this game on fire is Jasper Zammit. A player who has, in his brief but dazzling career, changed the game of soccer as we know it. Don’t you agree, Richy?’
‘I sure do, Higsy. For a young man, he plays with the experience and skill of a seasoned professional. His control of the ball. His accurate passing. His precision dribbling. He moves the ball like he’s got a remote control in his boot! I don’t think I’ve seen more remarkable playing.’
‘I’d have to agree with you there, Richy. And it looks like we’re about to see more. Jasper has the ball! He’s dribbling towards the goal. Oh! He’s done a perfect nutmeg on Rivaldo! I wouldn’t have thought that was even possible!’
‘It seems it is! That ball shot straight through Rivaldo’s legs.’
‘You don’t see that too often, Richy.’
‘He’s quickly taken possession again, passes to Viduka, who slips it to Kewell, then Ronaldo, who expertly wedges the ball. Ronaldo steadies, lines it up and sends a perfect cross to Jasper and … It’s a goal! Jasper Zammit has delivered a magnificent header to take his team to victory.’
‘And right on full-time, Richy.’
‘The fans have gone wild, Higsy! It’s pandemonium out there!’
‘And so it should be. That goal was pure perfection! I don’t think in all my years of playing and watching soccer I’ve seen a finer display of skill. What a talent this young man is. What a star. What a complete …’
‘Boofhead! Watch out!’
‘Oooph!’
Jasper rubbed his forehead where the ball had struck and winced as the supporters of the visiting team jumped about wildly.
He turned around and saw why. He’d headed the ball into his own goal. The goal he was supposed to be protecting. The ref blew the full-time whistle and it was official.
Jasper had won the game.
For the other team.
He stared at the ground hoping it would open up and swallow him whole.
It didn’t. So he just stood there, feeling so small everyone else suddenly seemed like jersey-wearing giants.
He watched as the visiting team slapped each other on the back and ran around in circles like human aeroplanes. They pulled their jerseys over their heads or took them off and twirled them like victory flags. Sometimes Jasper thought losing against the Eastville Kings was more painful because of how they won rather than the actual points on the board. When the plane flying had settled down, the Kings let loose a hefty dose of jeering and laughter. If the ref hadn’t asked them to settle down, it might have gone on for weeks.
Then Jasper noticed something else.
His team.
They were standing around him with looks of disbelief plastered all over their faces. As if they’d been frozen in time.
Probably the time a few minutes before full-time, when it looked like the match was going to be a draw.
Jasper wasn’t sure what was going to be harder. Lining up and shaking hands with their opponents or facing Coach Wallace.
It wasn’t that Coach Wallace always wanted them to win. In fact, just before every game he’d make them stand in a circle with their arms around each other’s shoulders and say, ‘It’s not the winning that matters most. It’s the way you play the game. Play fair, play well and play as a team.’ Then he’d look at Jasper and add, ‘And no daydreaming.’
Maybe Coach Wallace wouldn’t lose it. Maybe he’d just take Jasper by the shoul
ders and give him a friendly tussle as he reminded them again that winning didn’t matter. After all, Coach Wallace was a fair man. He never favoured one player over another and he gave each member of the team a chance at playing every position, so they could get a feel for the whole game.
That’s why this week Jasper was goalie – but not without the coach’s usual warning. ‘Don’t think because you’re goalie you can daydream. It’ll be more important than ever to keep your eye on the game.’
He’d tried, he really had, but Jasper’s imagination had a mind of its own, and once it started, there was no way he could stop it.
With the coach’s words circling in his head, Jasper dragged his feet to the line-up for the face-to-face, post-game handshake.
Maybe the Eastville Kings wouldn’t give him a hard time. Maybe they’d be so happy to have won, they’d leave him alone. Maybe the thought of making fun of him hadn’t even entered their heads.
Fat chance.
Each handshake came with its own fully rehearsed, A-grade, smart-aleck comment.
‘Good one. Maybe you could play for our team more often.’
‘Nice header. Could you teach me how you do it?’
‘Good to see your head’s useful for something.’
The last one was from Badger Mackenzie. His real name was Anthony, but he’d earned the name Badger because he was famous for badgering other players to make them lose concentration and put them off their game.
Sniggers of laughter buzzed around his head like a pack of wasps. Jasper quickly shook the other players’ hands and headed to the changing sheds. Well, it was what they called the changing sheds. They were about a million years old, with a few toilets from the last century and a couple of paint-peeled benches that would send a splinter into you as soon as you sat down.
Which is pretty much how Jasper felt as he walked towards them.
‘That’s usually my specialty.’ This one was from Noggin, who also gave Jasper a nudge in the arm. ‘But that was pretty good.’ Noggin got his name from being the best header in the Rovers, and even though Jasper knew he was only trying to make him feel better, he sank a little further into the ground so that he felt about five centimetres shorter.
In the sheds, the players settled themselves onto the benches ready for Coach Wallace’s post-match talk.
‘Don’t worry, Jasper,’ Nippy whispered as she sat next to him. ‘It’s just a pre-season friendly. You’ll do better when the real comp begins.’
Nippy was the fastest player on the team. She could tackle the ball from the other team without any contact and dribble it to the other side of the field before anyone even knew she had it.
In the long silence that followed, Jasper’s head filled with images of having to quit soccer. Of hanging up his boots, shirt and shin pads and closing the garage door forever on what could have been a world-famous career.
Coach Wallace began a steady pace around the room.
‘You all played a great game out there today. You played strong, hard and, most importantly, as a team. Well done Nippy for great running, Nutmeg for excellent ball skills and Mugger for fine defence.’
He paused and Jasper knew the next bit was going to be for him. ‘On the other hand, we all make mistakes and we all have bad days.’
Coach Wallace stopped in front of him. ‘Jasper has, however, given us a few valuable lessons. Never take your mind off the game or your eyes off the ball.’
The coach moved off with a crooked smile edging his lips. ‘It was a good header, though. We’ll just have to work on your aim.’
The others in the team laughed quietly.
‘The comp starts officially next week, which gives Jasper time to work out how he can make it up to us. Doesn’t it, Jasper?’
Jasper shrugged off his fear of being kicked off the team and sat up straight.
‘Absolutely, Coach.’
‘Good man. Now you’ve all got homes to go to. See you at training on Tuesday.’
Jasper tugged at his shirt and dumped it in a bag for Nippy to take home and wash. After a few playful jibes from the team, he left the dressing rooms feeling better than when he’d walked in. Even the greatest players had bad days, and this was one of his. All he had to do was move on and not think about it.
Which would have been a great plan, if only he hadn’t forgotten about his mum and dad.
They were leaning against Bessie, their battered old family wagon, with their heads locked in intense conversation. At their feet was Ronaldinho, Jasper’s white Maltese terrier. As soon as his parents saw him, they jumped forward, waving and hurrying towards him with big smiles wriggling all over their faces like hyperactive caterpillars.
Jasper took a deep breath.
He knew they’d mean well, but he also knew they couldn’t hold back from making a big fuss about the goal and telling him it didn’t matter.
His mum gave him a slobbery kiss and said well done about a hundred times, while his dad gave him such an enthusiastic, hair-ruffling nugget it was a wonder all the friction didn’t set his hair on fire.
Ronaldinho walked slowly after them and sat at Jasper’s feet, as if he was patiently waiting for them to realise they were overdoing it. Jasper looked down at him and smiled. Sometimes he thought Ronaldinho understood him better than his parents.
‘You played well, son. You really did. You ought to be very proud.’
Jasper breathed steadily. Maybe they weren’t going to mention the goal. Maybe they were happy to keep boosting his ego.
And maybe he was dreaming.
‘There was that one little hitch with the goal back there, but that doesn’t matter.’
‘The goal doesn’t matter at all,’ his mum piped in grandly, adding, with tears in her eyes, ‘We love you and that’s what counts.’
Jasper loved his mum and dad, he really did. But as far as he was concerned, the Good Parenting classes they’d started going to were being taken way too seriously.
His mum let the tears wobble down her face. Jasper wanted to hand her a tissue but knew she’d been told in the class to ‘let tears flow like love’. He’d snuck a peek at their class notes and they actually said stuff like that.
Jasper wasn’t sure why they were even going to classes. Maybe it was research for one of his mum’s magazine articles. He thought they were great parents already, and if they stopped going on about the goal they’d be even better.
They didn’t.
‘Would you like to talk about the goal, son?’
Ronaldinho whined in a ‘why don’t they get it?’ kind of way.
His dad gently took Jasper by the shoulders and gave him a look of concern and unconditional love. A look Jasper was sure they’d practised in the Good Parenting class – only on his dad, it came off like he was in terrible pain or badly needed to go to the toilet.
‘Can we do anything for you?’ This was from his mum. Still tear-stained.
‘Actually, there is.’
‘Yes?’ They both leant down and stared at him eagerly.
‘Could we get something to eat?’
His mum instantly wiped her cheeks. ‘Of course,’ she cried. ‘What were we thinking?’ They hustled themselves, Ronaldinho and Jasper into Bessie. ‘You must be so hungry. Buckle up for the food express!’
As their family wagon wheezed and squeaked its way into the Saturday morning traffic, Ronaldinho nestled himself on Jasper’s lap and they both sighed in relief that his parents had finally stopped talking about the goal. They discussed instead whether to buy shepherd’s pies or sausage rolls for lunch and then happily decided on both. Jasper let it all wash over him and daydreamed about soccer. About great goals, superb tackling, bending magnificent corner kicks and maybe, one day, even playing for Australia.
JOHNNY SAYS:
Learning to kick a ball with curve (also known as a bent or banana ball) is a necessary skill. If you hit across the ball on the side, it will put a spin on it and make it curve. Being able to bend the ba
ll increases your options, so you can curve the ball around an opposing player to one of your own team members, or do a banana kick in towards goal to deceive the goalkeeper.
Jasper slammed the front gate with a metallic clang and walked down the side of his house as a fast flying soccer ball curved round the corner and headed straight for him.
In an instant, he threw his school bag to the ground, steadied his stance and trapped the ball with his chest. It fell to his feet and he quickly executed a perfect banana kick, sending the ball, in mere seconds, around the house to where it came from.
He waited for the verdict.
‘Goal!’
Jasper’s face exploded into a wide grin. He picked up his bag and ran to see his grandad standing proudly by the makeshift goal they’d set up in the backyard. Ronaldinho sat at his feet.
‘How’d I do, Nannu?’
‘Not bad,’ his grandad declared.
Ronaldinho barked in agreement.
Nannu’s wispy grey curls bounced on his head as he picked up the ball from the back of the net and looked at his watch.
‘I’d say we’ve got an hour before your mum needs help with dinner.’
Jasper’s grandad had played soccer all his life. Even as a kid growing up in Malta. He came to Australia when he was only eight and the first thing he did when he got here was join the local soccer team. He couldn’t speak English, but that didn’t matter, he’d always tell Jasper. In soccer, you don’t need to speak the same language, you just have to have the same love for the game.
He went on to play professionally and once even helped coach the Australian men’s team when they travelled overseas for games against some of the world’s best. So when Jasper had come home from the match on Saturday and had to tell him about his goal for the other team, it was only natural that he’d felt a little nervous.
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