“Don’t get excited,” Katie warned us. “They need a bit of a makeover.”
A bit! I was well disappointed. It was just a cold, rectangular room with lockers and slatted benches round the sides and two showers at one end with chipped white tiles. The place smelled of damp and disinfectant.
But none of that mattered really, because in the middle of the floor were two huge cartons tied with red and white ribbons that Tabinda’s dad had left there earlier. Even Tabinda was surprised. “He never told me!” she gushed.
We all got over-excited and started pulling at the ribbons, so Hannah made us sit on the benches while Katie dished out the kits, still in their plastic bags. Shirts, shorts, then socks. The bags kept sliding off everyone’s knees. It was great fun – until Katie got to the goalkeeper’s spot. There was only the one. It was a dark green and black padded top. Amy grabbed it out of Katie’s hand before I could say anything. I felt my eyes sting with tears. I couldn’t help it. What if Hannah let Amy have the keeper’s kit? After all, she had let in fewer goals than me that time against the boys’ team.
“Why isn’t it red like the others?” Amy asked, a scowl on her face as deep as a gorge.
“The goalie has to stand out from the rest of the team,” Katie explained.
“Well, I’m not wearing that! I want to wear red. Green is not a good colour for me!”
“Is she sure about that?” Petra muttered next to me. “I think green sums her up pretty neatly!”
Katie must have thought the same. “Just as well, then,” she told Amy, and she plucked the kit out of her hand and threw it to me. “For you, Meggo!” she said. “Never a doubt.”
One of the tears rolled down my cheek before I could stop it. I’m such a big baby!
“She’s welcome to it,” Amy sneered and started foraging for her size in the remaining red and white kits.
So that was that. I was the Parrs Under 11s number 1. I’d made it this far. I sat there, just staring at the padded top, thinking it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever held in my life.
“OK, ladies, stop rustling. I’ve got more news,” Hannah told us. She delved into her bag and pulled out an envelope. “This came today. We have been officially accepted into the Nettie Honeyball Women’s League!”
We looked at each other, our faces what my nan would call “a picture”. Someone gasped; actually I think it was me.
“We’ve got such a wide age range among us I’ve had to put us in the Under 11s. We’re one of two new teams. The other one is called Southfields Athletic – making ten teams in the league altogether. I’ll let you have a fixture list as soon as possible.”
There was a bit of a commotion involving high fives, stomping and a mini Mexican wave.
“Hang on, hang on. There’s more!” Hannah laughed. “Because the new season doesn’t kick off until September and you need some match experience before then, Southfields Athletic wondered if we’d like a friendly against them. In two weeks’ time? Here? Saturday at two o’clock. All up for it?”
Were we? Just a bit! The Mexican wave lasted a tad longer this time.
“So that’s it,” Hannah said. “Go home, take your kit with you and don’t lose it because you’ll need it. May the fourteenth.”
19
Now you would think this was the happy-ever-after bit for me, wouldn’t you? After all, I’d got everything I wanted: I was the goalie in a team. I would be playing against another team in two weeks’ time. From September, I would be playing against other teams every week. Magic, our Maurice!
But you know how I always get nervous before football practice? Well, in the fortnight leading up to the match I managed to outdo myself. Big time. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. I felt as sick as not one but a whole bunch of parrots. Even Mum noticed, and that’s saying something.
“I’m cold,” I said on the morning of the match.
“What? It’s lovely and warm today. The sun’s out. It’s glorious.”
“I’m cold,” I repeated and shivered just to prove it.
She put her hand on my head and scowled. “Hmm. You are running a temperature, sweetheart. I think you might have to give this one a miss.”
“No,” I mumbled, but I didn’t exactly protest.
Dad soon put the kibosh on that idea. “What? Give it a miss? Never! She’ll be fine once she walks out onto that pitch. Come on, petal. Up and at ’em.” He slapped me on the back and told me to pack my kit.
Mum drove and Dad chatted to me about matches he’d played in at my age, so by the time we arrived in Lornton I was feeling a smidge better, but when Mum pulled up at the ground she couldn’t find a parking space. The car park was full, and there were already dozens of parents and kids standing on the touchline. Among them I recognized Petra’s mum and dad and her sister, Charlotte, and near to them Mrs Woolcock was standing with Mr Woolcock. Dotted among the parents were loads of the Parrs players and some of the lads from the Under 10s team. Nightmare! If they were watching I was bound to drop even the easy balls that came to me!
Mum had to reverse all the way back to the main road and park there. I would have run away, if my legs hadn’t felt like jelly beans.
I joined everybody in the noisy changing rooms and tried to find a corner where I could hide. Talk about Mission Impossible. Petra immediately came up to me and pulled a goofy face, and Tabinda wanted a high five.
“I’m really nervous!” I heard Holly say.
“Me too,” Petra agreed.
“It’s only a friendly,” Katie said, “so just go out there and enjoy yourselves. Remember, Southfields are feeling just as nervous as you are. More, I bet, seeing as they’re away from home.”
“You’ll soon forget the crowd, so don’t worry about them…” Hannah told us.
Easy for her to say! I glanced down at my brand-new goalkeeper’s gloves lying in my lap. My stomach began to churn. The feeling of wanting to throw up increased by ten billion. How embarrassing would that be? Splattering the floor with puke? Or, worse, doing it outside on the pitch in front of everyone. Double nightmare!
Goosepimples puckered my arms and I felt clammy all over. When Hannah gave her pep talk her voice sounded as if it was coming from a long, long way away. “You all know your positions? Amy, you’re OK swapping with Holly at half-time?” she asked.
“I suppose so,” Amy muttered.
“OK. That just leaves me to give out the captain’s armband. I hope you’ll all agree it can only go to one person… Megan.”
I felt an elbow dig into my ribs. “Meggo!” Petra said. “You’re the captain! Go girlfriend!”
I couldn’t look up. My head felt as heavy as a balloon filled with sand. People began to whisper to each other.
“Hey, Megan,” a voice called to me. It seemed far away.
I was aware of Hannah squatting in front of me. “You OK?”
I nodded OK first, then shook my head.
“Pre-match nerves?”
I nodded again.
“She always got them before practice at school, but I’ve never seen her this bad,” Tabinda told her.
“Me neither,” Petra added.
“It’s good to feel tense,” Hannah said to me. “It shows how much it means to you. Here, take this.” She prodded something into my hand.
My eyes were a bit blurry and at first I thought it was a hanky but then I saw white skulls on a red background. “Your bandana?” I asked. There was a lump in my throat the size of a satsuma.
Hannah smiled at me. “No, your bandana. It’s like mine, only smaller; I made it for you from some material I had left over. Wear it; it’ll take all those nerves away.”
“That shade so does not go with ginger hair,” I heard Amy mutter as she walked past.
“Shut your mouth! She looks better than you any day!”
When I heard that, I managed to raise my head a little. I saw Jenny-Jane Bayliss, her angry face about half a centimetre from Amy’s, her fist curled and ready. Heck! We h
adn’t even had our first friendly yet and I was bottling out of the match and two players were having domestics! I groaned and shut my eyes tight.
“I’m not saying I’m prettier, I’m just giving some fashion advice,” Amy retorted. “Not that it’s any of your business, Jenny-Jane!”
“I’ll give your big nose some fashion advice in a minute!” Jenny-Jane threatened.
“Whoa! Time out, you two!” Katie said, diving in between them.
“Come on, Amy,” said Eve, grabbing her arm and pulling her away. “Let’s warm up.”
Hannah patted my knee. “Take a couple of minutes. I’ll see you out there.”
“I’ll stay,” Petra said. “I’ll see she’s OK.”
“Good girl,” Hannah told her.
20
The changing rooms were suddenly quiet and still. I don’t know if that made things better or worse. “I can’t play,” I whispered to Petra.
“But it’s your dream come true,” Petra said.
“I know, but I can’t go out there. I’m too nervous.”
“Nervous? Megan! If you can stand up to that horrible Gary Browne you can do anything.”
“I just feel so sick.”
“Hey, come and look at this!”
I glanced across the changing rooms to see Tabinda standing at the door. I hadn’t realized she was still there.
She turned and grinned, waving me across. “Come here! You’ve got to see this!”
“I can’t.”
“You’ve got to!” she said, her voice stern.
Tabinda is the least bossy person I know. I blinked.
“Come on!” she repeated.
“OK,” I said. Somehow I managed to walk the few strides to the open doorway.
“Look!” Tabinda pointed.
“What?”
“There! Over there next to my dad!”
On the far side of the field Mr Shah was talking and laughing with guess who? Mr Glasshouse. Now I really would throw up! “What’s he doing here?” I asked.
“I invited him after training last week,” Tabinda said. “I told him all about how you got the team together.”
“Oh.” I had stopped going to his practice sessions now I had the Parsnips. These days I only saw Mr Glasshouse when he took assemblies and talked about the magic of recycling.
“He was impressed.”
I shrugged. I didn’t actually care whether he was impressed or not. All I cared about was keeping my breakfast in my stomach and not splattering it all over the floor.
“Megan! Look! Look at what he’s wearing!” Petra laughed.
I squinted. “Is he…? Is that…?”
“Yep. Mr Glasshouse really is wearing fairy wings and a tiara!” Tabinda squawked.
“No way!”
“Way! He said he would be delighted to come and watch the future England goalkeeper in action, so I told him I hoped he’d dress appropriately. I kind of meant in an England shirt but, you know, whatever!”
I laughed. Oh, Mr Glasshouse! So he had noticed that day! Did I look as daft as that? No wonder he had ignored me. He’d done right to ignore me, too. I’d been acting like a brat. He was the coach – it was up to him to choose his team. Everyone else had waited until Years Five and Six to represent the school – including his son, Jack. I could have waited too. But then again, if I had, I wouldn’t be here today. That was down to Mr Glasshouse, too, for suggesting a girls’ team in the first place. I sighed and when I did, I realized my stomach cramps had disappeared. Just like that! It must have been the magic fairy dust from those wings or something! “I guess I’d better get my gloves on,” I said.
“About time,” Petra agreed.
“Thanks a bunch!” I strode back to the bench and pulled the gloves on. My heart raced. I felt energy surge through my hands and up my arms. I hoped I’d have the chance to do one of my special dives! Then I realized Hannah’s bandana was still lying there on the bench. I would do one of my special dives, just for her! “Oh! Will you do my bandana up for me?” I asked Petra.
“Yes, captain.” She smirked, and fastened it in a tight knot.
“Now give me some fashion advice, because you know how much I care about fashion. Does the bandana so clash with my hair?”
“It so does!”
“Wicked!”
Taking a deep breath, I walked out of the changing rooms and into the sunshine.
Final Whistle
Well, that’s it from me and Girls FC. Told you I was only going to explain how we started, didn’t I? I hope you’ve enjoyed hearing about the early days. It’s been great for me remembering it all again.
I can’t believe I almost didn’t play against Southfields after all the fuss I’d made about getting the team together in the first place! I think it was just too much to take in. I still get nervous before a match, but nothing like on that day. Silly really because in the end I hardly had anything to do. We won quite easily. In fact at half-time everyone agreed to stop keeping score because it wasn’t fair on Southfields. Their coach told Hannah she couldn’t believe we were only starting out as we seemed so confident. It’s a good job she hadn’t seen me earlier in the changing rooms!
I am going to hand over to Petra now. She’ll continue the story of the Parsnips by telling you about the summer tournament we were involved in before the season started.
Enjoy!
Love and penalty saves,
Megan F xxx
Helena Pielichaty (pronounced Pierre-li-hatty) has written numerous books for children, including Simone’s Letters, which was nominated for the Carnegie Medal, and the popular After School Club series. A long-standing Huddersfield Town supporter, there are few who could write with as much enthusiasm about girls’ football. A local girls’ under 11s team helps with the inspiration and tactical know-how, but Helena has been an avid fan of women’s football for many years. It clearly runs in the family: her aunt was in a women’s team in the 1950s and her daughter has been playing since she was ten (she is now twenty-four!). Helena lives in Nottinghamshire with her husband and has two grown-up children.
The Girls FC series
Do Goalkeepers Wear Tiaras?
Can Ponies Take Penalties?
Are All Brothers Foul?
Is An Own Goal Bad?
Who Ate All The Pies?
What’s Ukrainian For Football?
So What If I Hog the Ball?
Can’t I Just Kick It?
We’re the Dream Team, Right?
Has Anyone Seen our Striker?
Do Shinpads Come in Pink?
For Robert Tingle and St Oswald’s Primary School, New Longton – a promise kept
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. All statements, activities, stunts, descriptions, information and material of any other kind contained herein are included for entertainment purposes only and should not be relied on for accuracy or replicated as they may result in injury.
First published 2009 by Walker Books Ltd
87 Vauxhall Walk, London SE11 5HJ
Text © 2009 Helena Pielichaty
Cover illustration © 2009 Sonia Leong
The right of Helena Pielichaty to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted or stored in an information retrieval system in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, taping and recording, without prior written permission from the publisher.
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data:
a catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN 978-1-4063-4257-4 (ePub)
www.walker.co.uk
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Do Goalkeepers Wear Tiaras? Page 5