by Danny Scott
To Dad, for coming to all of my games – D.S.
To Dad, for watching so much football with me (Ooh! Aah! Cantona!), and Mum, for coping with that for so many evenings – A.A.M.
Contents
Title Page
Dedication
1 Calum of Caleytown
2 Look Where You’re Running
3 Clown Shoes
4 Betting for Astros
5 The Penalty Shoot-out
6 Ravi Guesses Right
7 Grounded
8 The Day of the Trial
9 Jordan on Trial
10 Calum on Trial
11 The Team
12 Caleytown’s First Practice
13 Changes at Caleytown
14 The Day of the Big Match
15 Kick-off
16 A Lifeline
17 Caleytown Pounce
18 The Final Minutes
19 Calum’s Big Chance
Copyright
1
Calum of Caleytown
“Ferguson picks up the ball inside the Scottish half and he’s off. He skips round England’s Dawes…
Sidesteps Bridges…
Nutmegs Bryan…
Shoots…
…and SCORES! Goal for Scotland in the 89th minute of this World Cup quarter-final! England are on their knees. Ferguson sends the Scottish fans crazy. What a player!”
Calum Ferguson went whizzing round his small back garden, arms outstretched. He loved imagining this. Scoring a winning goal for Scotland.
“Calum!” His mum appeared at the back door. “I told you not to use the dog as a goalkeeper. Can’t you find anyone else to play football with?”
Calum was sure he could hear someone laughing from the other side of the fence.
“But he enjoys it, Mum – look!” Calum protested. If only Mum could have seen Calum’s last-minute winner for Scotland.
“Woof,” Leighton barked, wagging his tail.
“I don’t think he does enjoy having a football kicked at him, Calum. Anyway, this garden isn’t big enough for football.”
It really wasn’t. Calum used to have a huge garden to practise in up north. His new house in Caleytown just had a small rectangle of grass.
“I didn’t buy you those lovely new school shoes to play football in,” Calum’s mum continued. “Where are your plimsolls anyway?”
Calum shrugged. No way was he wearing those black plimsolls his dad bought him for P.E.
“Och, go and play in the park instead. See if you can find some new friends… and take Leighton with you.”
Calum sighed, grabbed Leighton’s leash and plodded out the gate.
***
Calum Ferguson was a new boy in a new town. His new house was in a new estate, and he was waiting to go to his new school on Monday.
There seemed to be lots of other kids his age around. But he hadn’t had the courage to say hi yet. He hoped he’d make friends at school.
Calum walked to the door of his local shop. He knew his mum was right. It was unfair to use Leighton in goals. Calum couldn’t kick the ball hard in case he hurt his wee friend. Plus, a border terrier was way too easy to score against.
***
“How’s Scotland’s future number nine?” Mr Aziz beamed as Calum and Leighton walked into his corner shop.
Mr Aziz and Calum had become friends when they found out they were both huge football fans. Dogs weren’t really allowed in Mr Aziz’s shop, but Leighton whined so much when Calum tied him up outside, Mr Aziz was worried he’d scare off other customers.
“I’ll never be a Scotland striker if I can’t practise,” Calum said glumly, feeling sorry for himself.
“I’m sure there’ll be lads to play football with at school. Anyway, this will cheer you up.” Mr Aziz clicked a remote control and a huge screen behind the counter came to life, showing highlights of Caleytown’s favourite team, King’s Park Athletic, in one of their first games of the season.
“Wow!” Calum said. “We’re not allowed this channel at home.”
“Neither am I, son, neither am I!” Mr Aziz chuckled as he opened some crisps for them to share.
Talking about football with Mr Aziz was fun, and he never said no to free crisps, but Calum hoped he would find friends his own age soon.
2
Look Where You’re Running
The next morning, Calum’s mum was redoing his tie for the seventh time. It wasn’t helping to calm his nerves at all.
“Now, be nice to your teachers and look after your new shoes.”
“Yes, Mum.” Calum sighed as he stared down at his big black school shoes. Mum said he needed ‘proper’ shoes for school, whatever that meant.
“Before Dad left for work this morning, he said to say good luck.” His mum moved his tie a bit to the right, again.
“Thanks, Mum, but you’re making me late!” Calum said. “My tie’s fine!”
His mum knelt down and gripped him tightly. “I love you, you know,” she said as she stood up.
“Mu-um, for goodness’ sake,” Calum said as he blushed, grabbed his bag and headed out the door.
Calum thought he could take a short cut but ended up in a dead end. By the time he found the right way, he had to shift it or he’d be late. He was still sprinting along the pavement as the morning bell rang. Calum could see the other kids disappearing through the doors when…
“BOOF!”
Calum felt the wind rush out of his chest as he slammed into a car door.
“Leo! How many times have I told you to check before opening your door?” a booming voice bellowed.
Calum felt a strong hand lift him to his feet. It belonged to a big man with a friendly face and a bright smile.
“I apologise for my son. He’s so clumsy!” The man glanced over at a boy who looked about Calum’s age.
“Apologise, Leo.”
“Yeah, apologise, Le-o,” said a little girl with puffed-out pigtails.
“Shut up, sis. Sorry…”
“Cal-um,” Calum said between gulps of air.
“Sorry, Cal-um, I didn’t see you there. You must be almost as fast as me!”
Leo had an afro. He was wearing an untucked school polo shirt under a school jumper and a pair of well-worn astros.
“Er… thanks.” Calum was breathing normally again.
Leo’s dad got back in the car, waved, and drove off with Leo’s sister.
Leo looked Calum up and down. “Are you new? Where are you from? Are you going into P6?” Leo asked a lot of questions. But Calum was glad he’d know somebody when he walked into school for the first time.
“Yeah, P6,” Calum said. “Do you know which classroom Miss Frettle is in?”
“Yeah… mine!” Leo pointed a thumb at his own chest.
Calum smiled.
***
Calum and Leo had just sat down, when a boy wearing fancy new astros strode in even later than them. His collar was turned up and his hair was shiny with gel.
“Who’s that?” Calum whispered to Leo.
“Jordan McPride,” Leo whispered back. “His dad used to play for King’s Park Athletic.”
A group of boys huddled around Jordan’s desk, admiring his shiny new boots. They scattered when the teacher came in. She was wearing a grey cardigan and a long skirt covered in orange cat hairs.
“Good morning class. My name is Miss Frettle.” She wrote her name shakily on the board. “We’re stuck with each other until your new teacher, Mr McKlop, arrives from West Lamont Primary. And for the last time this term, Jordan, turn down that collar – holidays are over.”
But Calum hardly noticed what was going on in the classroom. He’d just spotted the two Astroturf pitches at the back of the school, on the other sid
e of the playground. He couldn’t wait to get out there and play football at break. Even if he had to play in his clunky new school shoes.
3
Clown Shoes
When the bell for morning break finally rang, Leo, Calum and the other boys headed straight for the pitches.
Jordan McPride strode on to the fake grass as if he owned it. His crew followed. Jordan’s collar was back up and he was carrying a bright orange ball under his arm. He looked Calum up and down.
“You playing, new kid?”
“Calum.”
“Whatever. My ball, my rules, ok? It’s five-a-sides. I pick the teams. Ravi, Janek, Leo, Lewis – you’re on my team.”
Calum knew Jordan must be picking all the best players.
“Ravi, you’re in goal. Here, my dad got me new goalie gloves.” Jordan threw them to Ravi, whose big quiff quivered with excitement. Then he looked down at Calum’s feet. “Nice shoes.”
“Eh… thanks!” said Calum.
“Yeah, I’m joking.” Jordan rolled his eyes.
Calum glanced down at his clunky black school shoes. He might as well have been wearing wooden clogs compared to Jordan’s astros.
Leo looked at Calum as if to say sorry. Ravi put Jordan’s new gloves on with his fingers pointing skyward, like a surgeon preparing for an operation.
Calum glanced around at the other boys on his side and smiled. I’ll just have to do my best, he thought.
Before anyone was ready, Jordan ran up the pitch with the ball and booted it into an empty net.
“1–0!” Jordan jumped up, punching the air like he’d scored in a cup final.
“I’ll go in goal,” a tall kid from another class said, shaking his head. Calum didn’t argue. His best position, by far, was striker.
The new keeper picked the ball out of the net and rolled it to Calum. He had just about controlled it under his heavy shoes when he heard Jordan approaching.
Calum waited until Jordan stuck his leg out for a tackle and nutmegged him, collecting the ball on the other side.
He dribbled the ball up to halfway. Lewis came to meet him.
“Tackle him then!” Jordan shouted to his team, hands on his hips.
Red-haired Lewis lunged in, but Calum squeezed off a wobbly pass across the pitch to someone he hoped was his teammate. He kept his run going and called out for a return pass.
When the ball came back to him, Calum was one-on-one with Ravi in goals.
Ravi – and his quiff – came out to meet him. Calum would normally have tried to go round the keeper, but he couldn’t in his clunky shoes. Instead he went for power, shooting as hard as he could…
THWACK!
…the ball flew off his shoe and…
…up, up, up and…
…over the fence behind the goals.
Everyone groaned.
“Well done, Clown Shoes,” Jordan shouted. “Break’s only fifteen minutes! It’s hitters-getters around here. You’d better hurry up!”
Calum felt his face going bright red.
4
Betting for Astros
“No,” Calum’s parents said at the same time.
“We bought you new shoes for school and plimsolls for P.E,” his dad continued. “I used my plimsolls for everything at your age.”
Calum muttered something under his breath.
“You’ll just have to make do until Christmas, Cal,” his mum added with a smile.
“But everyone at school wears astros now…”
“You’re not everyone Calum,” his dad said firmly. “Now, set the table.”
The discussion was over. He would have to find another way to get new astros.
***
“You could use my old ones?” Leo offered the next morning. Leo’s dad had dropped him off at Mr Aziz’s so they could walk to school together.
Calum took one look at Leo’s small feet and sighed.
“Thanks but I’m never going to fit into your ballerina shoes!”
Leo laughed, gave Calum a shove and ran ahead. “That’s what makes me so speedy!”
The race was on.
With only fifty metres to the school gate, Calum was closing the gap. They were almost neck and neck, when…
BOOSH!
…he crashed into Jordan McPride by the gate.
Jordan staggered sideways and his mates caught him, but Calum fell backwards onto his rucksack.
Not again, Calum thought. He was winded. He could hardly breathe.
“Watch where you’re going, Clown Shoes!” Jordan said, checking in a car window that his hair was ok. “You could have injured me for the trial, you numpty!”
“Trial?” Calum blurted out while Leo helped him to his feet. “What trial?”
“My dad used to be a professional footballer,” said Jordan, a little bit too loudly, looking around to make sure everyone heard, “and he’s going to start a boys’ team for our year.”
“YES!” Calum and Leo shouted. There had been a P6 team last year but it was run by one of the player’s dads. This year, the new P6s had no one to coach them.
“What do you mean ‘Yes’?” Jordan asked, looking at Calum.
“I… I mean, it’ll be great to get a team together,” Calum answered. He had to get on that team. He had to.
“You won’t get a game, Clown Shoes,” Jordan said. “We’d need to build a higher fence.” He looked at his crew to make sure they were all laughing. “Plus, you can’t play unless you’ve got proper boots. It’s the rules. No clown shoes allowed.”
Calum felt anger rise in his chest. “I bet I’d be a better striker than you if I had your boots!”
Everyone went quiet.
“You think you’re better than me?” Jordan said. “I’m twice the player you are!”
“Prove it then!” Leo said to Jordan. “Why don’t you have a penalty shoot-out after school… in your bare feet?”
Jordan didn’t know how to react. He looked round his friends for support but they all looked at the ground.
“Fine!” he said, “but if… I mean when I win, I’ll tell my dad you’re not allowed to play in the trial.”
“Great! And if Calum wins,” Leo said, sizing up Jordan’s feet, “he gets your astros.”
5
The Penalty Shoot-out
When the last bell finally rang it made Calum’s tummy buzz. He walked out to the pitches with Leo to find Jordan waiting. He was leaning against a goalpost with a King’s Park Athletic towel draped round his shoulders. Around twenty kids had turned up to watch the show.
“I didn’t think you’d come,” Jordan shouted so everyone could hear.
Calum shrugged, took his shoes off, and his socks, and rolled up his trouser legs.
“Right! My ball, my rules,” said Jordan, doing the same. “Ravi, you’re in goal for both of us. I’ll go first. It’s five penalties each. Any complaints, clumsy Clown-Shoes Calum?” Jordan looked at the crowd to make sure they laughed.
Calum sighed and shook his head, staring at the goals, choosing where to aim his first penalty. The Astroturf felt softer than he thought it would on his bare feet. It was almost like the carpet at home.
***
Five minutes later, Jordan blasted his fourth penalty at the goal.
Ravi dived the wrong way, again. The ball sailed into the net, again.
If Ravi was actually trying, which he wasn’t, he probably could have saved the shot.
“4–3! Pressure’s on, Clown Shoes,” Jordan shouted, high-fiving his mates.
Calum looked at Leo. Leo nodded to his right in a strange way. Bottom right. He meant bottom right. Calum nodded back.
It was a good call. For his last three attempts Calum had gone right, left, right, and he’d been planning to go left again. But that would be too predictable.
Dark clouds were moving overhead, and Calum felt a drop of rain hit the back of his neck. He placed Jordan’s orange football on the penalty spot. As he looked up, he glanced left, to
try and fool Ravi in goals.
Calum paced a few steps back, took a deep breath, and started his run-up. He struck it with the inside of his foot towards the bottom right-hand corner and held his breath.
6
Ravi Guesses Right
To Calum’s horror, Ravi dived the correct way. He stretched his arm out and flicked the ball with his fingertips onto the post and… wide.
Calum put his hands on his head.
“YESSSS!” Jordan screamed.
One of his crew fetched the ball, dried it with the towel and placed it before Jordan. Jordan smiled at Calum through the rain like he’d already won. Showing off, he took five big strides back.
Calum’s dreams of playing for a proper team were almost over before they had begun. It was 4–3. If Jordan scored now, he would win. Calum watched his opponent take his extra-long run-up to the ball.
“ARGGGGHHHH!” Jordan screeched in surprise. His foot had slipped on the wet Astroturf as he kicked the ball. He spun through the air and landed hard on the pitch. The ball trickled wide.
A wave of giggles came from the crowd.
“Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP! It’s not funny!” Jordan moaned as he got up. The giggling stopped.
But Calum couldn’t hide his smile. He was back in the shoot-out.
“Come on, Calum. You choose this time.” Leo handed the ball to his new friend.
Calum tried to dry the ball on his school shirt. He looked at Ravi’s goals and picked his spot – the top left-hand corner. Somehow Ravi’s quiff was still standing tall, despite the rain.