The Striker

by Deborah Abela

  ‘Nadia said her dad’s pretty serious about it,’ Tricky shrugged.

  Jasper slumped.

  ‘But they have to let him play. It was my fault, not Aamir’s. I have to talk to him.’

  ‘Good luck,’ Josie said. ‘We tried but he won’t say anything.’

  Jasper breathed in deeply and walked over to Aamir. He sat down beside him, dropping his bag at his feet.

  ‘I’m sorry, Aamir.’

  Aamir gave Jasper a weak smile.

  ‘I didn’t mean this to happen. The Rovers need you. Can I do anything to change your dad’s mind?’

  He shook his head, his face so sad Jasper could hardly stand it.

  ‘Don’t worry, Aamir.’ He tried to sound confident. ‘I’ll fix it. I will. I’ll think of a way to get you playing again. You’ll see.’

  Aamir tried to smile but it came out more as a crooked scowl. The bell went. He picked up his bag and walked away with heavy, shuffling steps.

  Jasper sat through the entire day of school not hearing a thing. His head filled with the ticking of the clock on the front wall as he tried to work out what he should do. By the final bell, he thought he had it. He picked up his bag, said a muffled ‘good afternoon’ to his teacher and raced out into the yard and all the way home.

  Ronaldinho met him at the front gate. He sat up and wagged his tail.

  ‘Hello, boy. Is Nannu in?’

  Ronaldinho whined and looked down the yard towards Nannu’s flat.

  ‘Haven’t been near there all day, have you? Here I go, then.’

  Jasper walked carefully, clenching and unclenching his hands, taking deep breaths and hoping his plan would work. Ronaldinho walked behind him, looking around and hoping Jasper would change his mind and want to kick the soccer ball around instead.

  Jasper stood before the door and wiped his palms against his shorts. He looked down one last time at Ronaldinho, who raised his furry eyebrows before hiding behind Jasper’s legs.

  ‘Nannu?’ Jasper called softly.

  There were slow, trudged footsteps and the door opened.

  Nannu looked at him and turned back inside. Jasper followed and sat on the bed while Nannu made a cup of tea.

  ‘I want to tell you why I hit Badger.’

  ‘It won’t change my mind,’ Nannu said. ‘What you did went against the spirit and every law of the game.’

  ‘I know,’ Jasper agreed. ‘It was wrong and I shouldn’t have done it, but I hit him because he was picking on Aamir. He was saying things that weren’t true, and I just snapped. I know you said when you were picked on, you kept your mouth shut, but I couldn’t.’

  Nannu stirred his tea and took a sip before walking slowly over and sitting on the bed beside Jasper.

  ‘Funny how you think a country should have moved on. Here we are, fifty years later and people are still saying the same things.’ Nannu looked down. ‘And I didn’t always keep my mouth shut.’

  ‘Really?’ Jasper stared, like he’d been slapped with a fish.

  ‘I got into a few scraps. Most of them I won. I’m not saying it was right, but I couldn’t stand by and just take it all the time.’ Nannu had a small smile on his face. ‘It’s good that you want to stick up for your friend, just don’t do it with your fists anymore, eh? And never on the soccer field.’

  ‘Sure, Nannu.’

  Jasper paused, getting ready for the next part.

  ‘There’s something else. Because of what I did, Aamir’s dad won’t let him play. He says the way we play soccer is too violent.’

  ‘Too violent?’ Nannu sprang up from the bed, spilling some of his tea. ‘Soccer’s one of the most non-violent sports there is! It demands the highest levels of sportsmanship and respect for the game, the players and the entire sporting community.’

  He began pacing around the room.

  ‘Soccer is just like life. It is life! Soccer brings nations together, unites brothers and sisters across all countries and races. Sport is the great healer.’ His eyes fired up and he stopped to face Jasper. ‘That’s the secret that you and I know, and when everyone finally gets it, man, it’s going to blow the world apart.’

  Jasper had never heard his granddad use the term ‘man’ before. It felt weird, like he’d suddenly been sucked into the time when Nannu still had lots of black curly hair and impressed the girls with his dance moves that Nanna used to speak about.

  But when Nannu started talking about the beautiful game, anything was possible.

  ‘You should see Aamir on the field, Nannu. He was born to play, and you know what you said about soccer being important when you felt so different, that’s how Aamir feels. I’ve seen it. He has to play.’

  Nannu put his half empty teacup in the sink. ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘I was hoping you’d go round to Aamir’s and say all that stuff to his parents.’

  ‘Me?’

  Since Nanna died five years ago, Nannu didn’t like leaving the house very much, and when he did, it was usually just a short trip to the shops. Jasper knew it was a hard ask, but he also knew he owed it to the future of the Rovers, the future of Australian soccer and maybe even the future of world peace.

  ‘Yeah. You’re the perfect choice. You know more than anyone about how Aamir feels and you played for Australia. They’ll have to let him play when they hear what you have to say.’

  Jasper could see Nannu agreed with him, but was it enough to make him leave the house? ‘Please?’ He could see his grandad wavering, unsure of what to do.

  Then he decided. ‘I’ll have a word to them.’

  JOHNNY SAYS:

  Anyone who loves soccer immediately becomes part of a bigger ‘soccer family’. You don’t have to be a brilliant player to be part of it, you just have to respect the beauty and simplicity of the game – and the shared joy that binds people off the soccer pitch too.

  ‘How do I look?’

  Nannu straightened his tie, which hadn’t been worn for about fifty years judging by the wafts of mothballs that kept getting up Jasper’s nose and making him sneeze. Hopefully he could sit far enough away from Aamir’s parents so they wouldn’t smell it.

  ‘You look great. Now, come on.’

  ‘And my hair?’

  ‘I brushed it twice and put Dad’s super-hold wax in it.’

  ‘And the suit. Is it too much?’

  ‘It lets them know you’re serious.’

  ‘Good. Serious is good.’

  Nannu was more nervous than Jasper thought he’d be, but he believed in soccer more than anything else which was why they were here, standing in front of Aamir’s front door.

  It was a small red-brick house with no garden. The side fence had whole palings missing, and when Jasper looked down at his feet, he saw a crack in the cement veranda that would probably break it in two one day.

  Jasper pressed the bell and Aamir opened the door immediately, his face a mixture of relief and fear.

  Nadia walked up behind him and invited them into the lounge room. There wasn’t much furniture, just an old lounge with a blanket thrown on top and a few chairs sitting around a small coffee table and a red patterned rug.

  Aamir’s mum came out of the kitchen carrying a wooden tray of homemade biscuits, a jug of lemon water and a pot of coffee and some small cups.

  ‘Welcome to our house.’ Aamir’s dad shook Nannu’s hand, and after Nadia did the introductions and they were sipping coffee, Nannu began.

  ‘We’ve come here about Aamir.’

  Jasper’s hands were clenched so hard in his lap he only just avoided doing them permanent damage. Then he saw Aamir’s anxious face and gave him a smile. Nannu had a way with words that, he was sure, meant Aamir would be playing soccer again in no time.

  ‘Jasper’s got something to say.’

  Jasper’s head ricocheted round to face his grandad.

  ‘I do?’ he said in a strange strangled voice.

  ‘Yes. You do,’ Nannu replied pointedly as Nadia translated
quietly.

  ‘But what about all that “sport is a great healer” stuff?’ Jasper was starting to sweat. Negotiation and public speaking were not his strong points.

  ‘That’ll come later. For now it’s down to you.’

  ‘What do I say?’

  Aamir’s family were starting to look a little confused.

  ‘Tell them you were wrong to hit Badger and that in every other game of soccer you’ve played there has never been any sort of violence.’

  Jasper took a deep breath and stumbled through his dictated speech.

  ‘And tell them how soccer players never behave in that way and that you will never do it again.’

  Jasper took a sip of water to help his dried-up throat and repeated his grandad’s words. ‘Is it your turn yet?’

  ‘One more thing. Tell them you acted like a boofhead.’

  ‘What?’

  Nannu sipped his coffee and said through tight lips, ‘Tell them you’re an intelligent boy and a fine soccer player, but in this instance, you acted like a boofhead and you’re deeply sorry you brought the game and yourself into disrepute.’

  That was the hardest part for Jasper to say, mostly because it was true. He had acted like a boofhead letting Badger get to him like that, but as soon as he’d said it he felt as if a weight had been lifted from his chest.

  When Aamir’s sister finished translating, Nannu started on his own speech.

  He spoke about soccer being the noble game. How when he’d played, there’d been no greater thrill than representing his great country. He’d seen whole communities across the world unite behind teams and give hope to poverty stricken areas where there was no hope. He talked about how soccer was all about teamwork, respect and accepting people of all colours and races from every corner of the world, and how as a boy in a new country, it had helped him feel at home.

  Nadia smiled and finished the translation. ‘I think I got everything.’

  Jasper was impressed. Even a little teary. Aamir’s parents had to let him play now.

  Aamir’s father sat still. His face creased. He rubbed his hand across his brow and down to his mouth, leaving it there, as if he wasn’t sure what to say.

  His hand fell into his lap and he looked at Aamir. A warm smile rose up his face. That was it, Jasper thought. He’d changed his mind. It was obvious he loved his son just from that one look and he’d do anything to make him happy.

  Aamir’s dad spoke with a deep voice that was slow and measured as if he was trying to be careful with each word he said.

  ‘Our once beautiful country has lived through very sad times. War, persecution. Too much destruction for one country to bear. One night in our home, we got word that the Taliban were on their way to our house to take me away. They were angry that, as a doctor, I was treating those who they thought were the enemy. I told my family to take coats and blankets, and I rushed them out the back of the house to an alley where a friend was waiting with a small truck. We climbed into the back with many other families amongst the smell of hay and goats and drove for days in the dark and heat over bumpy back roads. The bottom of the truck was metal and hurt with every bounce. My children sat with me in that truck and never once complained.’

  Aamir’s father stopped, as if he was having trouble going on.

  ‘That’s when we came to the refugee camp in Pakistan. We could see our country from where we were but knew if we ever went back, we would be killed. It is the saddest thing to stare at your country knowing you can never go back.’ Aamir’s father rushed on with a jolted breath. ‘Nadia and Aamir have seen too many bad things for such short lives. We are happy now to live peacefully and give our children the life we never could at home. And to see them happy.’

  Jasper sat at the edge of his seat. Soccer was the perfect answer. Maybe now everything would be all right. Maybe now Aamir could come back to the Rovers. He could see it all: they’d win all their next games, make it to the finals and organise a big party at the end of season celebrating their win, while offers from international clubs came pouring in.

  It would be good to have Aamir back. There’d be conditions of course, like Jasper promising he would never punch anyone on the soccer field again. That’s what deals were: they give a little and you give a little. Easy. Especially if it was for the future of soccer.

  Aamir’s mother and father looked at each other. His dad said one more thing.

  ‘But I do not want my son to experience any more violence. He has seen enough.’ He paused, giving Aamir a sad look. ‘My answer is no.’

  ‘No?’ Jasper sprang forward so he nearly toppled off the chair.

  ‘Watch your manners,’ Nannu said. ‘We’re sorry if we caused your family any trouble.’

  ‘But …’ Jasper began.

  Nannu shot Jasper a look that told him not to argue. He stood up and shook Aamir’s dad’s hand. ‘Thank you for the coffee and biscuits.’

  He took Jasper by the shoulders and led him to the front door. Jasper turned before he left and saw Aamir sitting in the lounge room, the same lonely and sad look on his face as on the day they’d met.

  JOHNNY SAYS:

  There are hundreds of different ways to score a goal: a long-range lob or a close-up laser, with a big smash or a small flick, off the knee, thigh, heel, head or chest; with every possible part of the foot; or maybe a spectacular scissors-kick. It’s this incredible variation, all ending in a dramatic goal, that gives soccer its magical, edge-of-your-seat appeal.

  ‘Aamir’s going to be on television.’

  Jasper was in his usual spot waiting for Lil so they could walk to school together. They lived close to each other and their schools were only blocks apart.

  ‘Sorry?’ Lil asked.

  ‘Aamir’s going to be on TV playing soccer, and then he’s going to be interviewed by Richy and Higsy.’

  ‘The soccer commentators?’

  ‘Yeah, and then the world will know Aamir is a great player so he won’t get picked on anymore and his parents will see how happy he is again and will let him play.’

  Jasper began walking towards school, happier than he’d felt in days.

  ‘That’s a great idea.’ Lil followed with her face creased into a frown. ‘There’s only one problem.’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  After his meeting with Aamir’s parents, Jasper had thought so much about how to get Aamir back in the Rovers that he forgot Lil needed to be filled in. He told her about his grandad’s speech, Aamir’s dad’s decision and the sad look on Aamir’s face when they left.

  ‘But how’s Aamir going to be on TV when he’s not allowed to play soccer, and even if he was, how are you going to get Australia’s top soccer commentators to interview him?’

  ‘That’s what you’re going to work out.’ Jasper stepped over a rolled-up newspaper.

  ‘What?’

  ‘You’re good at those things. You got my dad his job back when your dad sacked him, and you got my grandad to dance when no one else could. If you can do that, you can do anything.’

  Jasper smiled. He was confident his plan would work and Lil was the one to make it happen.

  Except Lil wasn’t so sure. ‘I don’t know. I …’

  Jasper stopped in front of her. ‘You remember the photo of Nannu when he first came to Australia?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Lil said warily.

  ‘He felt like he had to hide his accent and speak English all the time and eat what everyone else ate. He even changed his name so it didn’t sound so different from everyone else’s. It’s different today, you don’t have to stop being who you are to live here and be Australian, but for Nannu, soccer was the one thing that made him feel at home.’

  Lil looked at Jasper’s eager face and smiled. ‘Maybe you should stop playing soccer and think about a career in politics.’

  ‘It’s the United Nations I’m after, but for now I’m happy with reuniting the Rovers and winning back ou
r star striker. Gotta run.’

  Jasper heard the bell from his school and raced towards the gate. His plan was brilliant. Now, if only Lil could think of a way to make it happen, it may well turn out to be the best idea he’d ever had.

  JOHNNY SAYS:

  Good goalkeepers know how to read the play, so you have to surprise them to score a goal. Use your experience, but don’t be afraid to try something different. Maradona was particularly good at this: goalkeepers never knew what he was going to do next!

  ‘Duck!’

  Lil and Jasper ducked down behind a large lounge.

  ‘What is it?’ Lil whispered.

  ‘Badger’s dad. If he sees us here we’re ruined.’

  Jasper poked his head out from behind the lounge in the reception area of the local TV station. Badger’s dad walked through the main doors, laughing with a whole bunch of other men in suits. A receptionist with hair like a beehive said good afternoon to them before she reached across her desk. A second glass door slid open and the men walked past the receptionist into the station interior.

  Ronaldinho watched from behind a bush outside the main glass doors of the station and sank down in relief.

  When Badger’s dad was out of sight, Lil and Jasper walked over to the receptionist. Jasper tried to sound calm and businesslike.

  ‘Hello, my name is Jasper Zammit and this is Liliana Spinelli and we have an appointment with Higsy and Richy.’

  ‘Certainly.’ The receptionist smiled and pressed a few buttons on her keyboard before speaking into her headset. ‘I have Jasper and Liliana here to see you.’

  There was a pause.

  ‘I see. Yes, thank you.’

  She hung up. ‘I’m afraid they aren’t expecting you. Do you have an appointment?’

  ‘It was all arranged,’ Jasper half-lied. It was arranged. At least in his head it was.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ the receptionist and her hair nodded. ‘I won’t be able to let you through.’

  ‘But we have to see them. The future of …’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ the receptionist interrupted sternly. ‘There’s nothing I can do.’