The Kick Off

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The Kick Off Page 5

by Dan Freedman


  Both Danny and Jamie tumbled to the ground, with Jamie’s momentum spinning him over a couple of times when he hit the deck.

  He was still feeling dizzy, when he suddenly felt a sharp pain on his head.

  “Oi!” shouted Quincy, who’d grabbed Jamie’s hair. “That was a dirty tackle.”

  “Get off!” shouted Jamie, digging his nails into Quincy’s wrist to get him to let go. “I was going for the ball!”

  “Watch your temper, little boy,” said Quincy. His voice sounded calm but, as he was speaking he was grabbing Jamie’s shoulder so hard in a pressure point that it hurt like hell.

  “Trust me,” Quincy said, menacingly. “You don’t want to make me angry.”

  “Just leave me alone,” said Jamie, getting himself free of Quincy’s hold. He could feel that he might start crying. That would be the worst possible thing he could do.

  He turned away and started walking.

  He heard a few of the players on his team shouting his name but he didn’t care.

  They’d had their fun with him. They’d just got him to play with them so that they could laugh at him again. Why had he even said yes?

  He’d had such a good few weeks and got his confidence right back. Now they had ruined everything again for him just as he was about to go back to school.

  Jamie shook his head and kicked a pile of grass cuttings as he walked. Why couldn’t they have just left him alone?

  Jamie slung his bag over his shoulder and headed for the park gates. At least Jack was finally coming home tonight. She’d get him back in the right frame of mind for school.

  Jamie suddenly felt a tug on his bag.

  “Is that it then, Jamie?”

  It was Danny. He’d come after him.

  “Yes, that’s it. I’m going home.”

  “Ah come on, Jamie. We’ve only just started. Your team needs you.”

  “What – so Quincy can have another go at me? I don’t think so.”

  “Oh, Quincy’s OK. He’s just like that sometimes. Sees everything as a contest. He likes to test people out, see what they’re made of, you know? So you’ve got to come back and show him.”

  “Sorry if I fouled you, by the way,” said Jamie, sheepishly looking at Danny’s strip, which was now covered in dirt. He had gone in a bit hard.

  “What are you talking about? It wasn’t a foul. It was a great tackle. You’re stronger than you look, by the way.”

  Finally, Jamie cracked a smile.

  Jamie came back on to the pitch with just one thing in his mind. He wanted to have a run at Quincy. Yes he was bigger than Jamie. And yes he was stronger than Jamie. But how good was he?

  As soon as Jamie got the ball, he was determined to find out.

  “Turn!” one of the players shouted to Jamie as they laid the ball up the line to him.

  Suddenly Jamie’s feet took over. His left foot met the ball with a soft, secure touch, flicking it behind his right foot as he twisted himself a hundred and eighty degrees to face the opposition goal.

  His feet were strong, springy and fast and they were driving straight towards Quincy. The more Quincy backed away, the more Jamie turned on his turbo gear.

  As he approached Quincy, Jamie feigned to go on the inside before clipping the ball down the outside and changing his pace to dash past him.

  Quincy was beaten. He threw out an arm to try and grab Jamie, but it was too late. Jamie was already heading for the by-line.

  When he got there, Jamie wedged his boot right under the ball and clipped it up to the far post. It was a beautiful, hanging cross and went right to where one of his teammates was waiting, ready to head the ball down into the net.

  Jamie’s team were 1 – 0 up. Now Quincy knew what Jamie Johnson was all about.

  The game finished 1 – 1. Danny Miller had curled in an equalizer from the edge of the area to level it up late on.

  After training he’d thanked his teammates for giving up so much of their holidays to train everyday and said that it was good to end with a “diplomatic draw”.

  Jamie was really proud of himself. He knew he’d made his mark. Not only had he set up his team’s goal, but when they had been defending, he’d dug in and tracked back. He’d even popped up once in the right-back position!

  After the game, most of the First Eleven boys were sitting on the ground with their girlfriends who had come along to meet them. They were all well fit.

  Jamie instantly felt his age again. He didn’t want to look any of the girls in the eye. He heard one of them say: “Ahh – isn’t he cute?” But that just made him more embarrassed. He hated it when girls called him cute.

  He got his stuff together and made his way out of the park. He was knackered.

  He’d run himself into the ground. But it was worth it. The skills he’d learned from the book were already starting to pay off – and he’d only played one game!

  He couldn’t wait to tell Mike that he’d trained with the Firsts. And Jack. She’d be back now. But it was already 7.30. By the time he’d got home and had a soak in the bath, it would be nine o’clock before he got round there. Although they’d agreed to meet up tonight, his mum wouldn’t be too happy if he had a late one the night before school started. He could tell her everything on the way to school tomorrow, anyway.

  “Thanks for playing, Jamie,” Danny shouted from the middle of the group of his teammates and their girlfriends. They were all lying on the grass. It was a warm evening.

  “Oh, no probs. Thanks for asking,” said Jamie, turning around.

  Then Danny gave his girlfriend a kiss on the cheek and walked over to Jamie.

  “Listen, we’ll be training here on Sundays, and Monday and Friday nights after school for the next few weeks. Do you want to come along? It’s always good to have more left-footers.”

  Jamie was in shock. He couldn’t believe it. The Firsts wanted him to train with them all the time!

  “Err. . . Yeah! That’d be great. Thanks,” he said.

  “Nice one,” said Danny. “See you tomorrow night, then. Six o’clock.”

  That night, after a long bath, Jamie sank back into his pillow and pulled the duvet right up under his chin.

  His legs ached. But in a good way. They had given everything these holidays.

  He knew that next term wasn’t going to be easy.

  First of all, he had to keep his marks up, otherwise he wouldn’t even be allowed to play football.

  Then there was Dillon, who would be in his face from day one.

  And, worse still, Jamie was sure he would be in the dreaded B Team for the first games of the new season.

  He just knew it. How could Marsden put him in the A’s after what had happened at the trials?

  But the funny thing was Jamie didn’t feel worried.

  He felt ready.

  Normally, Jamie met Jack at 8.30 a.m. at the lamp post between their houses for the walk to school but today he’d already been standing outside for about ten minutes and there was still no sign of her.

  He turned his phone on to check the time. It was 8.42. There wasn’t even time to knock on her door and see if she’d overslept. Jamie knew he had to get going otherwise he’d be late for the first day back.

  He started to jog up the road but then he felt something vibrate inside his trouser pocket. It was his phone. A text had come through. Jamie read it as he ran. It was from Jack: Hey! Got back early! When r u coming round?

  It had been sent at 5.31 p.m. yesterday. Jamie must have been training down at Sunningdale when she’d sent it and what with having his bath and getting everything ready for school before he went to sleep, he hadn’t had a chance to check his messages last night.

  He felt bad. Jack must have thought that he’d forgotten their arrangement or, even worse, that he was ignoring her for some reason. As if!
He couldn’t wait to tell her everything.

  Jack would be cool though. Once he’d told her that he was now training with the First Eleven, that would be all she’d want to hear about.

  Jamie ended up having to sprint practically the whole way to school just to get there in time. Still, the more fitness training the better. But when he walked into the assembly hall, Jamie had a big shock. He saw that Jack was already sitting down and next to her, in the seat that Jamie always sat, was Nicki Forbes. She had taken Jamie’s place!

  Nicki and Jamie didn’t get on at all. Nicki had been Jack’s best friend at Kingfield before Jamie had joined so she’d always had an attitude with him, like he’d stolen Jack away from her or something.

  Jamie knew Nicki would be loving the fact that she was sitting in his place. It annoyed him to see them talking and laughing together. Jack must have given up Jamie’s seat on purpose, to get back at him for not going round yesterday.

  Jamie had so much to tell her. There was Kenny Wilcox’s book – she could share it, there was some wicked advice for keepers – plus the little matter of the fact that he was now friendly with Danny Miller!

  Jamie went straight up to her after assembly. She’d snap out of it once he’d explained.

  “Have you got a sec, Jack?” he said, completely ignoring Nicki, who was standing there too.

  “I suppose so,” said Jack.

  “I’ll see you for lunch later then, Jack. Yeah?” said Nicki, talking to Jack but giving Jamie an evil look as she spoke.

  “Yeah, see you later, Nicks.” Jack smiled.

  They could talk properly now Nicki was out of the way. Jamie suddenly had an urge to give Jack a massive hug. He hadn’t seen her for weeks. But they didn’t normally do that, and certainly not in school.

  “So how have you been, mate? How was Antigua?” he asked with a lively grin.

  Jack’s face had turned cold and expressionless as soon as Nicki had gone but Jamie carried on anyway.

  “Sorry about last night, by the way. I was down at Sunningdale till late and my mum’s been giving me no end of grief. . . Anyway, I’ve got so much to tell you. Guess what’s happening tonight?”

  For a second, Jack’s face brightened.

  “What are we doing?” she asked.

  “No, not us – me. I’m training with the First Eleven down at Sunningdale tonight. They invited me yesterday. You should come down and watch, then we can catch up afterwards.”

  Jack’s face dropped again. She pursed her lips together really tight.

  “I can’t,” she said. “I’m busy. You have a good time.”

  And then she walked off.

  Jamie felt a bit weird. He thought Jack would be happy for him but she was being really strange. Maybe she was jealous – she probably wanted to train with the Firsts herself. She was still really angry about not being able to play in the boys’ team.

  But if Jack had a problem with Jamie training with the Firsts, that was her problem, not his.

  Jamie had to push Jack to the back of his mind. Besides, there were plenty of other things to think about. Like the fact that the first games of the season were tomorrow and the teams were being announced at break.

  As soon as the bell went, Jamie headed straight for the sports hall. Despite the fact that, deep down, he was sure he’d be in the B team, he still had jolts of electricity running through him.

  Maybe, just maybe, Marsden would take a chance and stick him in the A’s. After all, he had said that Jamie had “potential” in his report.

  But before Jamie could even get to see the teams he had to get his way past another obstacle.

  Dillon Simmonds had already got there first. Jamie could have done with having Jack on his side for this one. She was so much cleverer than Dillon that she could usually put him in his place with one sentence. But Jamie was going to have to go it alone this time.

  Dillon was leaning against the noticeboard, casting his eyes over the teams. As soon as he saw Jamie coming, he started tutting and shaking his head.

  “Ah, still not managed to grow over the holidays then, Johnson?” he said in mock sympathy. “Don’t worry, your voice might break one day . . . but you’ll still be a little ginger minger.”

  Dillon was laughing really loudly at his own pathetic joke.

  “Good to see you too, Dillon,” said Jamie, preparing to deliver the line he’d practised in the mirror during the holidays. “Listen, if you haven’t got enough cash to buy some Clearasil, I don’t mind lending you a couple of quid.”

  “Come to see what team you’re in tomorrow, have you?” said Dillon, ignoring Jamie’s response. “Let’s have a look, shall we?”

  Dillon turned to the noticeboard and dragged his fat, grubby finger through the list of names in the A team to face St Antony’s tomorrow. “Not here, are you?” he hissed. “What a surprise that is, after your brilliant penalty in the trials.”

  He was enjoying every moment of the pain he was putting Jamie through.

  “Which means you must be here, in the B’s. . . Ah, yes, here you are in the lame old B’s, the team that no one cares about. Exactly where you deserve to be. Oh, and who’s captain of the A’s? Oh yeah, that’s right – it’s me.

  “Good luck,” Dillon said with a fake smile as he pushed Jamie out of the way. Then he walked off, taking his stinking, disgusting body with him.

  It hadn’t exactly been a great first day back for Jamie. Not only had he had to deal with Dillon’s disses and the fact that he’d been put in the B’s, but he seemed to have managed to fall out with his best friend too.

  At lunch, Jack had sat with Nicki and completely ignored him. He’d sat with Ollie and Tesh instead. Even though Jack was only on the next table, it felt like she was miles away.

  It was just as well, then, Jamie thought as he walked out through the school gates, that he had something really special to look forward to this evening.

  After school, Jamie had popped home to get changed and have another quick flick through Kenny Wilcox’s book. Before he left, he even slipped in twenty minutes of French vocab to keep his mum sweet.

  Then he sprinted straight down to Sunningdale. He didn’t want to be late. Danny had said 6 p.m. Jamie was there for 5.50.

  Just knowing that Danny and the rest of the First Eleven squad wanted Jamie to train with them gave him such a massive lift. The frustrations of the day seemed to fly away.

  For Jamie, having a ball at his feet made him feel the same way his mum must when she had a big mug of tea in her hands. It relaxed him. Made him feel comfortable.

  When the others arrived and they picked the teams, Jamie was one of the first people that Danny picked to be on his side. He brimmed with pride as he took his place behind Danny, waiting to see who else they were going to have on their team.

  By the time the game started, Jamie felt super confident. He made sure that he never rushed himself in possession, always taking time to pick out the right pass. He played a couple of one-twos with Danny that completely split open the opposition defence.

  Whenever he had the opportunity, he skipped down the line. He even hit the post when he cut inside and hit a shot with his right foot. He struck it so sweetly he almost didn’t feel it.

  They finished the session by playing the Crossbar Challenge, to see who could hit the crossbar first from the edge of the area. Jamie and Danny were the only ones who hit the bar with their first attempts.

  “You looking forward to the matches tomorrow, then, Jamie?” said Danny as they sat down behind the goal watching the others trying to hit the bar. Danny was undoing his sweaty shin pads from the back of his heavily muscled calves.

  “Yeah – I’m well up for it,” said Jamie. “I can’t wait to play in a proper competitive game for Kingfield. I only joined in January.”

  “Oh, right,” said Danny. “So you’r
e in with Dillon Simmonds and that lot, are you?”

  “Yup.” Jamie tried to keep the grimace from his face when that ugly name was mentioned.

  “Sounds like a pretty good team, with him at the back and you in attack. Bet Marsden’s happy with his lot this year?”

  Jamie gritted his teeth, drawing the air in through the sides of his mouth. He was going to have to tell Danny that he was in the B’s. It was so embarrassing. Danny probably wouldn’t want him to train with the Firsts any more when he found out. But there was no point in Jamie lying. Danny would find out soon enough.

  “Yeah . . . well, that’s not the team for tomorrow, anyway. I’m . . . sort of . . . in the B’s,” Jamie said. He felt like he’d let Danny down in some way. “I had an absolute nightmare in the trials.”

  “Oh, OK,” said Danny. “Well, you’ll just have to turn it on tomorrow then, won’t you? Just do your thing. Marsden’s a good coach. He knows how to spot a player.”

  The branches of the tall oak trees rustled above Jamie’s head. It was 7.45 in the evening and the sun was starting its descent.

  The others had left half an hour ago, but Jamie had stayed on to do some more dribbling drills. He’d been using the hut as his wall again, really hammering the ball at it to test his reflexes when it rebounded to him.

  Now he was juggling the ball as he walked. He wanted to see if he could keep it up the whole way to the gates of the park without letting it drop. It was another drill in itself.

  But a sudden stirring noise behind Jamie made him lose control of the ball. He turned around to see what the noise was, allowing the ball to bounce away from him.

  That was when Jamie saw him. There was a man sitting in the hut. The same hut he’d been using for his dribbling exercise. He must have been there the whole time.

  The hut smelled like the men’s toilets at the Hawks stadium and there were always old bottles strewn around the ground next to it, but there was never anyone there. Until today.

 

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