by Danny Scott
For Mum, the greatest teacher I ever had – D.S.
For Enki, my pride and joy – and my inspiration for drawing Calum! – A.A.M.
Contents
Title Page
Dedication
1 Goal for Scotland
2 Toe Poke
3 Edinburgh-bound
4 The Cramond Challenge
5 Calum’s New Boots
6 That’s Why They Call Them Castle Rock
7 Caleytown and the Lion’s Bottom
8 First up, Burvie
9 Brandon Shows His Teeth
10 Caleytown versus Minch
11 The Disappearance
12 The Winner Takes It All
13 How to Beat a Player Like Brandon Cramond
14 Penalty!
15 Take Two
16 The Ceremony
17 Bus and Boots
Copyright
1
Goal for Scotland
“Come on referee!” Calum and his friend Mr Aziz shouted at the screen.
They were standing in Mr Aziz’s shop watching Scotland play on the shopkeeper’s big flat-screen television. Leighton, Calum’s dog, showed his disgust at the decision by barking. They all knew that barking wouldn’t do much good, but the pressure was on. Scotland needed a win to qualify for next summer’s tournament.
Scotland’s coach is making a gamble – he’s bringing on the uncapped striker from King’s Park Athletic, James Cauldfield, as a replacement.
Calum’s frustration turned to joy as his favourite player stood, puffing his cheeks out, ready to come on.
James Cauldfield was a local hero. He was born in Caleytown, had gone to Calum’s school and was now the top goalscorer at King’s Park Athletic – the club everyone in Caleytown supported.
“Hey ‘Caleytown’s gifted number nine’, did I miss much?” said Leo as he burst through the shop door with a soggy piece of paper in his hand. His afro was shining from the light drizzle outside.
“James Cauldfield is coming on for his Scotland debut!” said Calum.
“Sweet!” said Leo.
“Caleytown’s gifted number nine?” Mr Aziz asked.
Leo waved the piece of paper he was holding in the air. “It’s from our Muckleton match report. A blogger on Scotland Stars F.C. is a big Calum Ferguson fan!”
On the TV, James Cauldfield was now battling in the rain, trying to break the deadlock for Scotland. Leo started to read out the match report. All the players at school were obsessed with the Scotland Stars F.C. website. Leo grimaced when he got to the bit about their teammate Jordan.
“…Jordan McPride gave Caleytown hope in the dying seconds of the first half with a deflected goal…”
“A total fluke,” said Calum.
“Well jammy,” agreed Leo, before carrying on with the report. “…Hope soon turned to excitement when Leo Nkwanu danced down the sideline to wow the crowds with some stellar footwork and set Calum Ferguson up for the equaliser.”
Calum and Leo grinned at each other and high-fived.
Leo continued, “…No one could have guessed that Caleytown’s gifted number nine would b—”
“Penalty!” shouted Mr Aziz, pointing at the screen above them.
The boys turned to look. With the score at 0–0, and the clock deep into injury time, James Cauldfield was face-down on the ground with the soles of his yellow boots in the air. An opposition defender held his hands up – he looked like he feared the worst.
The referee jogged into the box and pointed to the penalty spot.
Mr Aziz, Leo and Calum all turned to each other with crazy grins on their faces. This was it! A golden chance for Scotland to sneak a win.
James Cauldfield’s got the ball in his hands. He’s going to take this vital penalty on his Scotland debut. What guts he has, this young kid from… erm… Caleytown.
Leo turned to Calum, “He just said ‘Caleytown’!”
“I know!”
Mr Aziz shushed the boys and a hush fell over the shop. All you could hear was the low buzz of the fridges.
…James Cauldfield is placing the ball for what will surely be the last kick of the game…
…He’s waiting for the Swiss referee to blow his whistle.
PEEEEP!
James Cauldfieeeeeeeld SCORES! Scotland win!
SCOTLAND WIN!
“YAAAAAASSSSS!” Leo and Calum jumped up and down and hugged. Mr Aziz shook both his fists above his head so hard that his moustache jiggled. Leighton barked.
“Excuse me, are you still open?” An older woman stood at the shop door with a puzzled look on her face.
Mr Aziz fixed his hair and clothes. “Of course we are, madam. My apologies.”
2
Toe Poke
The next morning, for once, Calum wasn’t running late for school.
Instead, he was walking through the streets of identical houses in his estate, talking football with his neighbour Erika.
Erika had recently moved to Scotland from the USA. Her ‘mom’ was a ‘soccer-crazy’ American and had started coaching the P6 girls’ football team the moment she arrived in Caleytown.
Erika and Calum spotted Leo waiting for them outside Mr Aziz’s shop.
Leo’s hair still had a dent in it from his pillow. He looked groggy. “Sleep well, Leo?” Erika laughed.
“Huh?” Leo rubbed sleep from his eyes. “I couldn’t sleep after Cauldfield’s penalty.” He and Calum bumped fists.
“Oh, Scotland has a team?” Erika teased. “I’ve seen the US teams at the men’s and women’s World Cup Finals but I’ve never seen Scotland play.”
Calum and Leo rolled their eyes.
“Speaking of tournaments, my mom says there’s some big news for both school teams today. She wouldn’t say what.”
Hearing that, Calum and Leo picked up the pace, rushing to school to find out the big news.
***
There was going to be a meeting at lunch time, but rumours were already spreading fast. During their kickabout at break, Jordan was whispering to Caleytown’s P6 goalkeeper Ravi and red-haired midfielder Lewis. He had popped the collar up on his polo shirt.
A few other players hung about waiting for a game to start.
“If Mr McKlop’s got another match planned, I’d better be playing up front this time,” Jordan said in Calum’s direction.
Calum was busy putting on the old, battered boots Mr Aziz had given him.
Upset at getting no response, Jordan tried again. “Haven’t you returned your boots to the museum yet?” He laughed at his own joke.
“I’ll do it next week,” Calum said, to take the wind out of Jordan’s sails. “After my dad buys me a brand new pair from Total Soccer this Saturday.”
The corner of Jordan’s collar flopped down.
Saturday can’t come soon enough. Calum grimaced as the old boots dug into his heels and scratched the tops of his feet. The left one was taped up because it had split open during the last big match.
The players formed teams of two for a game of doubles. Leo went with Calum, and Jordan paired up with Lewis. Caleytown’s blond central defender Janek formed a team with the wiry right wingback Ryan.
In goals, Ravi checked his precious quiff one last time before sliding on his gloves, picking up the ball and kicking it straight to Jordan.
Jordan only just controlled the ball before shouting from outside the box. “Let me show Museum Boots how it’s done.”
Although he was a pretty good defender, Jordan wasn’t so hot with the ball at his feet.
“Wait for it,” Leo said under his breath to Calum when Jordan set off on a solo dribble. Lewis tried to stay open for a pass but even he knew a pass wasn’t going to come his way.
Sure
enough, Jordan barely made it past Ryan before he lost control of the ball. Calum leapt on it and fired a pass to Leo. Calum tried to ignore the old boots nipping at his heels with every step as he ran into space. Leo spotted the run and threaded a through pass between the other pairs.
“This’ll be fun,” Calum heard Jordan scoff as Ravi ran out to narrow the angle, the stylish keeper’s big quiff of hair blocking out even more of the goal.
With no time to shoot, Calum took the ball past Ravi, who wasn’t up for diving on the damp Astroturf.
“I’ll show you, McPride,” Calum said through gritted teeth. He planted his right foot and was about to smash the ball into the empty net when…
CREECHHHHHHH
Calum’s right foot popped out through a new hole in the front of his boot. Off balance, Calum flapped at the ball with his left foot but only managed to tap it wide of the open goal.
“Ah ha ha ha ha!” Jordan howled, holding his sides just to make sure everyone knew exactly how much he was laughing. The others joined in, even the defender Janek, who was normally quite quiet.
“Yep, Saturday can’t come soon enough,” Calum muttered to himself.
3
Edinburgh-bound
Mr McKlop, Calum’s teacher and the coach of the football team, burst into the gym hall for the P6 teams’ lunchtime meeting. Coach Brown, Erika’s mum, strode in behind him.
“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen!” Mr McKlop said. “We’ve got some pretty exciting news for you.”
Coach Brown stepped forward, a clipboard in her hand. With her reddish hair and sporty build, she looked like a grown-up version of Erika. “Listen up!” she shouted. Everyone did. “Now, how many of you guys have been to Edinburgh?”
Calum didn’t put his hand up. He’d never visited Scotland’s capital city. He’d spent his whole life in the Highlands until his family had moved to Caleytown in the summer. He’d seen pictures though.
“About half of you? Well, I’ve got some good news for y’all,” she continued. “Coach McKlop and I have accepted an invitation from a school there called Castle Rock Primary to take part in their annual tournament. It’s in a couple weeks’ time.”
Noisy chatter filled the hall.
“So we need two things from y’all,” Coach Brown continued. “One: that you get your folks’ permission to come. And two: that y’all promise to show them city folks how we play soccer here in Caleytown!”
Both teams let out a big cheer, apart from Erika, who just looked a bit embarrassed by her competitive mum.
“One more thing,” Mr McKlop said, frowning at all the noise. “The boys’ team’s training session will be in the computer room today, not on the pitch.”
“What… why?” Jordan asked.
“You’ll see,” was all Mr McKlop said before he disappeared out the door.
***
Later, at ‘training’, the boys’ team sat down, two to a computer, waiting for instructions. Outside they could see the girls’ team playing on the pitches in the sunshine.
“I’m amazing on computers,” Jordan boasted. “I once got an email from an MI5 agent asking if I’d be interested in doing some work for them – no joke!”
“Then why are you holding the mouse the wrong way round?” Leo asked.
Jordan’s cheeks flushed. “I’m used to working on tablets, alright? Using a mouse is so last century.”
“Right, squad,” Mr McKlop clapped his hands together, “you must be wondering why we’re all in here.”
The whole team looked outside longingly.
“All the clubs, like King’s Park Athletic, employ people to research each team they’re going to play.”
Calum and Leo nodded along. Jordan quietly turned his mouse the right way round.
“So that’s what we’re going to do today,” Mr McKlop continued as he strode around the computer desks. “You’ll be playing these three teams in Edinburgh.” He scrawled on the whiteboard in his messy writing:
Castle Rock – Edinburgh
Minch – Glasgow
Burvie – Scottish Borders
“In your pairs, I want you to find out as much as you can about each team,” said Mr McKlop. He blew a short burst on his whistle as if they were kicking off a match.
Each pair started furiously clicking and typing.
Leo and Calum knew exactly where they’d search first. Whenever they weren’t on the pitch, they were on the Scotland Stars F.C. site.
“Click on the ‘Edinburgh and Lothians’ page,” Calum said, his eyes darting about the screen like a wasp trapped behind a window.
Calum and Leo found some links to match reports about Minch and Burvie. They were obviously good teams. Minch had a tall centre-back who seemed to score a lot of goals – for a defender. And judging by their team photograph, Burvie were a strong bunch of lads.
“Hey guys, come and look at this,” shouted Ravi. His quiff was quivering.
4
The Cramond Challenge
The boys gathered round Ravi’s computer. His hands flew about the keys like he was playing the piano. A video popped up on his screen. “Can I click play, sir?” he asked.
Mr McKlop nodded. “Good work, Ravi.”
A presenter their age appeared on the screen:
The video cut to footage of Brandon Cramond nutmegging two players before curling a perfect shot into the top corner.
Nerves began to crackle and pop in Calum’s stomach.
The presenter reappeared with a microphone, next to Brandon Cramond himself.
A smile crept across his face. He had black hair and dark eyes. Smiling didn’t come naturally to him: it seemed like something he’d practised in front of the mirror.
The interviewer glanced at the next question on his sheet, gulped, then looked up at the team captain.
Calum watched as Brandon turned to the interviewer and stared at him as though he’d just sneezed on his lunch. Brandon’s eyes had become as black as coals. It felt like the temperature dropped in the computer room.
The interviewer winced, turned back to the camera and tried to smile.
The computer room was silent. All the team could hear was distant shouting from the girls’ training session outside.
“See…” said Mr McKlop finally, after a long pause, “it’s always a good idea to know who you’ll be up against.”
5
Calum’s New Boots
Calum got up so early on Saturday that even Leighton groaned and hid his eyes under his paws.
Calum wasn’t going back to sleep though. Not on the day he was getting new boots. Castle Rock’s tournament in Edinburgh would be played on grass, but Scotland Stars had advised players to wear Astroturf boots because the ground was still really hard from summer’s hot weather.
After two long hours of watching his dad eat breakfast, check the news and do other boring stuff, Calum was finally sitting next to him on a bus headed to Caleyfield shopping centre.
“Do you know which boots you want?” Calum’s dad asked, putting his arm round his son’s shoulders.
Calum thought about it for a second. “I’d like a yellow pair to match our strip.”
“Yellow?!” his dad asked, as if he didn’t believe you could get yellow boots.
“Uh-huh, yellow. James Cauldfield wears yellow boots.”
His dad smiled. “Fair enough.”
***
When they walked into Total Soccer, Calum’s eyes grew as big as two footballs. One side of the shop was completely filled with football boots. The other side was packed with strips from all the biggest clubs in the world.
Down the middle of the shop was everything else a football player could possibly need. You could buy all types of shin pads, goalkeeper gloves, footballs, thermal vests, socks, and water bottles from a huge water-bottle tower.
So this is where Jordan gets all his fancy gear, thought Calum. All Calum wanted, though, was a new pair of astros.
At first, there seem
ed to be far too many to choose from. Calum’s head was spinning from looking at a rainbow of blue boots, pink boots, red boots and green boots. There were even pairs of boots with a different colour for each foot.
“Wow,” Calum’s dad said. “Do they do boots in plain old black any more?”
“Just plimsolls, Dad,” Calum said. His dad, who’d only just discovered that no one wore plimsolls any more, shoved him gently away. By the time Calum recovered his balance, something had caught his eye. In the bottom corner of the display, half-hidden by the cardboard cut-out of a footballer, sat a bright yellow astro boot. It was pointing in the other direction from all the other boots on display.
“This is it,” Calum said, holding it up to his dad as if he’d found buried treasure.
Calum’s dad quickly checked the price tag. “Alright, I’ll get someone over.”
He waved at a shop assistant who was hanging about near the water bottles. His fringe was swept down over his face so he kept having to blow it out of his eyes with a ‘pfft’.
When he got closer, Calum saw that his name badge said ‘Malcolm’.
“Where did you find these, wee man, pfft?” asked Malcolm. After measuring Calum’s feet he glanced back at the display shoe. “Not sure if we’ll have ’em in your size – I’ll check though, pfft.”