‘You’ve got a date for the dance?’ Just mentioning the dance made Jasper feel sick.
‘Yep,’ Tricky answered with his usual confidence when it came to girls.
‘Who?’
‘Lil.’
Jasper’s head spun round so that he was centimetres from Tricky’s face. ‘Who?’
Tricky moved back a little. ‘Lil. Spinelli. From our team.’
‘I know who Lil is,’ Jasper snapped.
‘I’ve been wanting to ask her for ages, but it took me longer than I thought.’
Jasper suddenly wanted to wrestle Tricky to the ground and make sure he never asked another question again. Instead, he walked away.
‘Hey, Jas. You want to go for a kick down the park?’
Jasper kept walking.
‘Jas? Hey, where are you going?’ Tricky watched for a few more seconds before he gave up.
As Jasper thudded down the footpath towards home, all he heard in his head was the word ‘Lil’. Over and over, said through Tricky’s self-assured, fat-headed lips. Tricky who’d been causing so much trouble for the team in the last few weeks. Tricky who’d been picking on Josie and ignoring his best friend, Diego. Tricky who could have taken any girl he wanted to the dance.
Tricky.
Jasper wanted to take the name and mash it into the dirt.
He kicked open the gate to his home and would have accidentally stood on Ronaldinho if the dog hadn’t leapt out of the way.
‘Sorry, boy.’ Jasper stepped back and patted his dog’s head. ‘Bad day. Bad week. Bad everything.’
From around the corner of the house came the curve ball his grandad would kick when he heard the squeaking of the front gate and his grandson coming home from school. Jasper watched it come towards him and, instead of dropping his bag and getting ready to kick it back as he always did, he caught it with his hands.
Ronaldinho’s fluffy eyebrows swept up his head and he let loose a confused whine.
‘Don’t feel like it today,’ Jasper explained.
Nannu walked around from the back of the house. He stood in his battered gardener’s hat and threw his hands onto his hips.
‘What’s going on? Where’s the ball?’
‘Sorry, Nannu,’ Jasper apologised. ‘I wasn’t ready.’
Nannu frowned. Jasper had been kicking Nannu’s curve balls for years and had always been ready. ‘Well, get your boots on. I’ve got a cool drink waiting for you and then let’s get to it.’
Nannu turned back down the driveway. Jasper followed with dragging steps, knowing it was easier to train than to explain to his grandad that he didn’t feel like it.
He stopped at the sight of a cardboard painted balcony sitting in the backyard.
‘What is that?’
Nannu handed Jasper a juice. ‘The Romeo and Juliet balcony. For the dance.’
The dance, Jasper thought. Stupid, ridiculous dance.
‘You better drink that before you lose it all.’
Jasper looked down and realised he was squeezing his popper so hard the juice was spurting out of the straw. He drained the box and thumped it down on his grandad’s outdoor table. ‘Let’s go then.’
Suddenly Jasper did want to have a kick and when the ball was at his feet, he belted it way further than he needed to.
Ronaldinho raced after it and nudged it back to Nannu.
‘A good kick is about accuracy and weight. About hitting the ball so it moves in the direction you want and lands exactly where you aim.’
‘I know. Sorry.’ But Jasper felt good about the kick. His heart thudded and his blood pumped.
Nannu passed the ball and Jasper caught it at his feet. He tried to calm his breathing and aimed to hit the ball with less force, but as he was about to let fly, he looked again at the balcony with its painted flowers and large, red love heart plonked in the middle.
Jasper grunted and belted the ball even harder. Nannu ducked just in time for it to shoot past his head. ‘Any harder and I’m going to lose an eye. Should we give it a rest?’
‘No. I’ll be fine this time.’
But as he was lining up the ball, Jasper heard Tricky saying Lil’s name again, with his smug smile smudged across his swollen-headed face, when he could have asked anyone else. Anyone! But he’d asked Lil instead.
This time Jasper sent the ball tearing though the air. It slammed with a dull thud against the wood siding of Nannu’s flat before ricocheting with spin and landing on a tomato plant in a red squelching splat.
‘They were going to be in tonight’s salad.’ Nannu stared at the pulped mess.
‘Sorry.’ Jasper shoved his hands in his pockets.
‘What’s going on?’
Ronaldinho stood beside Nannu, wanting to know the same thing.
‘I don’t know,’ Jasper mumbled.
But he did know. It was Tricky. Tricky had asked Lil out and she’d said yes. Jasper just stood there like some first-grader, staring at him, saying nothing, even though he wanted to tell him it couldn’t happen. That it was he and Lil who had the chemistry, not Tricky and Lil. Tricky was a poser who could have any girl he wanted. Why did he have to ask Lil?
Nannu lowered his head and fixed Jasper with a knowing eye.
‘You asked Lil to the dance yet?’
‘No, I haven’t!’ Jasper felt his face on fire. ‘I don’t want to train anymore today. I’m tired and I’ve got a lot of homework to do.’
Jasper picked up his bag which swung into the Romeo and Juliet balcony, leaving it shuddering behind him. He flung open the screen door on the back veranda and slammed it closed with a reverberating crash behind him.
JOHNNY SAYS:
In 1973, I was playing for Australia when we went to play Iran in Tehran. We played in a stadium full of 130,000 Iranians, and every single one of them was barracking for the opposition. We underestimated the atmosphere – it was incredible – and it was very hard not to be distracted by all of the noise and the cheering. In the end, it was our team spirit that saved us.
‘Welcome back, sports fans. I’m Richy; he’s Higsy, and this is The Beautiful Game, but before we begin, I have something to say.’
‘What’s that, Richy?’
‘The great and talented soccer legend Johnny Warren used to say “soccer is like life.” It has its highs and lows. Moments of greatness and moments of agony. The best team doesn’t always win and the most deserving person isn’t always rewarded, but no matter what happens, you always give it your best.’
‘That’s what makes the game great, Richy. Any knock, any fall or defeat should always be met with courage and the determination to go back in with your head held high.
‘As a young player starting out, there were times I wanted to give up, to throw in the towel and walk away, but I didn’t, and you know why?’
‘The game of soccer deserves more than that, Higsy.’
‘Dead right, Richy!’
‘But there are also times when you have to face the bitter truth. The harsh reality. The cold, hard facts. Sometimes you have to look yourself in the mirror and say out loud …’
‘I mucked it up didn’t I, Ronaldinho?’
Jasper’s Maltese terrier whined and offered a small bark.
‘All I had to do was ask a simple question. Just a few words, but I couldn’t do it. What kind of loser can’t ask a simple question?’
Ronaldinho put a paw on Jasper’s lap.
Jasper smiled. ‘Thanks, boy. Maybe I should take you to the dance? I’d have no problems asking you.’
The front door of the house slammed, and Jasper’s mum and dad ran down to meet him and Ronaldinho in the car.
‘What do you think?’
They were wearing bright red shirts and caps with ‘The Rovers’ painted on them and even had their faces painted.
‘It’s … it’s …’ Jasper began.
‘We want to make it clear that we are one hundred percent behind you, son.’ His dad looked at him from beneath his
blazing red cap. ‘And that we love you very, very much.’
He paused so long that Jasper thought he was going to stay like that for the rest of the afternoon. Or cry, and Jasper wasn’t about to handle that.
‘Okay! Who’s coming to the game of the century?’ His dad finally stopped staring and jumped in the car.
‘This is so exciting.’ His mother pulled her door shut, snapped on her seatbelt and turned to face Jasper in the back. ‘Are you excited, dear? You’re not nervous, are you? Don’t be nervous. You deserve this day as much as any team out there. And we are so proud of you. No matter what happens today. You do know we’re proud of you, don’t you?’
Jasper’s parents believed that good parenting meant you let your kids know you were proud of them every couple of minutes.
‘Yep. Thanks, Mum.’
Ronaldinho groaned and pushed his head under Jasper’s shirt. Maybe one day they’d get the not-overdoing-it rule of parenting.
Nannu hurried from around the back of the house and got in the car. ‘Sorry, I couldn’t find these.’ He handed Jasper a pair of socks. ‘These are my lucky socks.’ He looked proudly at the old and faded ball of cotton. ‘They never let me down while I was playing.’
Jasper’s mum teared up. ‘That’s so sweet, Nannu.’
Jasper carefully took the socks between two fingers and dropped them into his soccer bag. ‘Thanks.’
All three adults stared at Jasper and said nothing – just looked at him adoringly, tenderly, lovingly, when all Jasper wanted was to get to the game. His stomach was churning and all the fuss his family was making didn’t settle him down.
‘We better go,’ Jasper said, and his family snapped out of their adoring gaze.
The trip to the fields was full of his parents’ constant talking, but Jasper heard none of it as he tried to concentrate on not feeling sick, on not thinking about Tricky and Lil and the stupid dance. Until he noticed Nannu’s hands squeezed tightly in his lap.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked Nannu.
‘Sure. You?’
Jasper stared at his grandad and smiled. ‘Yeah. I am. Thanks for coming.’
‘That’s okay.’
When they reached the grounds, Jasper realised there was a different atmosphere than on regular soccer mornings. He began to feel the excitement of the match ahead. Parents and friends carried the usual picnic gear but also long streamers, banners and pompoms, and on the hill were the rest of the Rovers’ parents decked out with the same red painted gear.
‘You feel that?’ Nannu asked as they stepped out of the car. ‘There’s nothing like a finals day to make everything feel special.’
Jasper felt better. After everything that had happened in the last few weeks, he was about to play in the semifinals. He stood taller, prouder, more confident. Nannu was right, he thought, all I have to do is concentrate on what is important.
Or that’s what he thought until he saw Tricky talking to Lil and Vince.
His stomach crunched into a knot. It should have been him standing there. Him who’d asked Lil to the dance. Him who had …
‘Give us a hand will you, Jasper?’
Jasper’s dad handed him bags of crepe paper pompoms, streamers and a giant, soft bear dressed in a Rovers shirt. ‘This is going to be great!’
‘Yeah,’ Jasper almost snarled.
During the warm-up, Jasper did his best to avoid Lil and Tricky. Lil tried to say hello, but Jasper was always busy tying his laces or concentrating on his lunge or turning to see if someone was calling his name.
It felt strange not talking to Lil, but he couldn’t help it. She should have been going to the dance with him.
He saw Vince shaking Nannu’s hand with a broad smile and begin asking him lots of questions. Jasper felt even worse not talking to Lil.
Riley gathered them all in for a final speech. His eyes flicked about wildly and his knuckles were clenched white. ‘I don’t want any repeats of last week’s game. I want you to play hard and fast and don’t give the Vikings even a whiff of victory.’ Riley stabbed his finger into the air. ‘You have to do everything you can to bring them down.’
Josie scowled, feeling more like a soldier going into battle than a kid about to play soccer.
‘If you want it, victory is yours.’ He looked over the heads of the Rovers to the Vikings. ‘And if any of you feel the Vikings are getting too close to scoring, there’s always a discreet slide tackle or nudge from behind.’
Lil frowned. ‘But Coach Wallace said –’
‘Never mind what Wallace said.’ The veins in Riley’s neck stretched like rubber bands about to snap. ‘Just do it.’
Lil felt as if she’d been slammed against a wall.
So did Jasper. ‘It’s not soccer.’
‘Listen, Zammit …’
‘It’s not soccer.’ All Jasper could see was Lil’s hurt face. ‘It’s got nothing to do with playing fair, well and as a team.’
‘Relax, Zammit,’ Tricky spoke up. ‘He’s not asking us to break the law.’
Coach Riley could see Vince and Nannu staring at them from the sidelines. ‘Of course I mean only use those kinds of tackles as a last resort.’ He attempted a laugh, but it came out more as a bad case of needing to go to the toilet. ‘Now go out there and get ’em!’
The team walked into position. ‘His soccer isn’t our soccer,’ Aamir smiled at Jasper. ‘We play our way. Yes?’
Jasper was still bristling from Riley’s speech. ‘Yes.’
The Vikings started play, but within minutes Josie manoeuvred for a brilliant intercept and stole the ball.
‘Go the Rovers!’ Vince called from the side of the field.
She sent it quickly to Nutmeg, who dribbled forward, looking for support. Jasper rushed towards him, breaking free from his marker. He saw the field open out before him. ‘Here!’ he called to Nutmeg, but as he shot forward, Tricky raced into his path.
‘It’s mine,’ he called as he received the ball and sped down the field, outwitting anyone who attempted to tackle him.
Jasper saw he was running towards Lil. His jaw tightened. He ran fast, pounding his boots into the ground, ramming his fists through the air. He had to get the ball from Tricky.
Tricky saw Jasper moving in on him and smiled, happy for the support, but Jasper saw his smile as a taunt. As if he was laughing at him for being such a loser.
Two Viking players swept across in front of Tricky.
‘She’s mine!’ Jasper called, but Tricky booted the ball to Nippy for an attempted wall pass, only Nippy was late in seeing the pass and it sped by her, only to be saved by Lil. She followed through on Tricky’s plan and fed it back to him with a quick flick. He leapt onto the ball, kicking it firmly on the side, sending it into the air with deadly spin. It curved in a wide arch around the Vikings goalie’s desperate dive to stop it and sailed easily into the goal.
Tricky threw his fists into the air as Jasper caught up with him, puffing.
‘That one was all mine,’ Tricky said proudly before turning to give Lil a wink.
That was it. Jasper was sick of Tricky’s smart-mouthing and shoulder charged him as he walked past.
‘Hey,’ Tricky ricocheted out of Jasper’s way. ‘What’s wrong with you? We’re supposed to be on the same team?’
‘We’ve been thinking that for a long time,’ a voice said behind him.
Tricky spun round to see Josie staring at him, before she turned and walked away.
Jasper saw the parents and friends on the sidelines screaming and waving streamers and pompoms. Nannu nodded at him with pride, but Jasper felt none of their excitement.
Jasper saw Nippy’s disappointed face stretch into a yawn. ‘You okay?’
‘Yeah. Just tired. I was up late last night practising the clarinet.’
For the rest of the game, Tricky played with an overblown confidence that included very few of the other Rovers players. He sped to steal possession, intercepted passes and even attempted a lunge from
behind that, luckily, he pulled off without making contact with the player. He had two more goal attempts before the ref blew the final whistle. The score stood at one-nil.
The Rovers had made it to the grand final.
Jasper thought winning would feel like being selected to play for Australia or being chosen to represent the Socceroos at the World Cup. But it didn’t feel like any of that.
After the post-game handshake, warm-down and hugs and ruffled hair from the parents, the coach called them back to the sheds.
‘You played like champions out there! I’m proud of every one of you.’ His eyes flared as if they were lit up from inside. ‘And let’s hear a big cheer for the man of the match … Tricky! That was one great goal.’
There was a small clap from the Rovers as they sat in an exhausted slump on the benches.
Josie took out one of her shin pads and threw it to the floor. ‘If being a ball hog is something to be congratulated,’ she mumbled.
‘What was that?’ Tricky shot back.
She looked him in the eye. ‘You played as if you were the only one on the team.’
‘Maybe I was the only one playing any good.’
Diego sniffed. ‘No. You just think you’re the only one who’s any good.’
Jasper and Aamir looked at Coach Riley, waiting for him to step in and stop them, but he didn’t. He had a small smile lifting one corner of his mouth like he was actually enjoying himself. Mugger let loose a loud snort and stood up to calm Tricky down, but the coach took his elbow and held him back.
‘It’ll help if they have it out,’ he whispered. ‘They need to get it off their chests.’
‘I am good,’ Tricky glared at Nippy, ‘and I’d be even better if I had proper support.’
Nippy stared back. ‘I didn’t get to the ball in time.’
‘Maybe if you didn’t make so many mistakes, you’d actually be a good player.’
‘Maybe if your mouth wasn’t so big, you wouldn’t feel the need to yell so much.’
‘We don’t need lousy players on this team mucking up our chances at winning.’
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