by Theo Walcott
Rob said nothing. He was watching with a mixture of anxiety and excitement as Dexter Gordon ran onto the pitch and made directly for Marshall. Marshall seemed to hesitate for a moment, then he trotted slowly over to the opposite side of the pitch. ‘Yes!’ said Rob.
‘Marshall doesn’t look pleased,’ said TJ. ‘I hope you’re right about this, Rob.’
‘It’s probably nothing to do with me,’ Rob replied. ‘I expect the manager thought of it himself.’
From the throw-in, Milan attacked, catching Wanderers by surprise. Jamie and his friends watched the backs of the Milan players streaming away from them towards the far end. The ball flashed from player to player and the move ended with a shot from the Milan number eight that curved and dipped viciously towards the Wanderers goal. There was a moment of horrified silence before they saw the goalkeeper rise and palm the ball over the bar.
‘That’s what I want to do,’ said Jamie, as applause rippled around the ground.
When the corner came the keeper rose majestically to catch the ball, and then he threw it instantly, overarm, out to Dexter Gordon on the wing.
‘This is it,’ breathed Rob, and then sighed with disappointment as Gordon played the ball short to Paco Sanchez, who took one touch and then played a seemingly impossible pass between two Milan defenders to Marshall Jones on the left wing.
Marshall clipped the ball to the striker, Dwight Fanshawe, who was closely marked but managed to slide a return pass that flew straight towards the corner where the friends were sitting.
Marshall sprinted after the ball and he reached it a metre ahead of the chasing defender. ‘Cross it!’ screamed TJ, and he realized that he was on his feet, like everyone around him, as three Wanderers midfielders raced into the penalty area to join the striker. There was a groan from the crowd as Marshall put his foot on the ball and then turned back, beating the defender a second time.
‘What’s he doing?’ asked TJ.
‘Doesn’t want to cross with his left foot,’ said Rob. ‘But this full back’s not as good as the other one. Marshall’s fooled him.’
Marshall Jones had seen something that all of the Milan defenders had missed. He hit his cross long. It floated over the penalty area, above the heads of defenders and attackers alike. The crowd groaned again, but then, just as the ball seemed certain to go out for a goal kick, Paco Sanchez appeared out of nowhere, beyond the far post, beyond everyone, and headed the ball back across the goal, and into the net.
‘We can do it,’ said Jamie, dancing around with everyone else in the stand. ‘We can beat them. Come on, Wanderers!’
But as the minutes ticked by it became obvious that the Milan defence was going to be very hard to break down. Milan pulled every player back inside their own half, and every Wanderers attack was snuffed out. If Marshall beat a player, there was always another blocking his path. If Paco Sanchez squeezed a pass between two players there was always a third waiting. And Dexter Gordon was a disappointment. The first time he received a pass he couldn’t control the ball and a Milan defender took it away from him. The next time, it happened again.
Moments later Paco Sanchez was on the ball and looking to pass to Gordon, but Gordon checked his run and the ball ran out of play.
‘He’s rubbish,’ said Rafi. ‘He was scared of getting the ball that time.’
‘He’s just nervous,’ said Jamie, ‘and I bet you would be too.’
‘Look,’ said Rob. ‘The full back who was marking Gordon thinks he doesn’t need to worry about him any more. He thinks he can attack whenever he likes now.’
The Milan full back was steaming forward down the wing, just as he’d done in the first half. A Wanderers defender tackled him, and when he lost the ball the Milan player turned in a leisurely way and began to jog slowly back towards his own half. ‘You see?’ said Rob. ‘The Milan full back has decided Gordon isn’t a threat. He’s playing like an attacker now and he’s leaving the other defenders to cover for him. It’s lazy, if you ask me.’
Dexter Gordon was standing on the halfway line and there wasn’t a Milan player within ten metres of him. He waved his arms in the air and they could see that he was calling to Paco Sanchez, who had the ball at his feet once more. Sanchez seemed to hesitate for a second, as if he wasn’t sure it was worth passing to Gordon. A Milan defender sensed the hesitation and tried to tackle him, but Sanchez turned away from him, and now he had no option, and he slid the ball to Dexter on the wing.
The young man began to move forward, faster and faster. The Milan defender was still making his way back. He didn’t seem bothered until he saw Gordon glide past first one, then two Milan players as if they weren’t even there. He was moving like a streak of lightning towards the penalty area and now, at last, the Milan players realized their danger. Gordon’s speed had taken them completely by surprise. Three Milan defenders closed on him, but they were too late. Dexter Gordon’s shot screamed past them, past the goalkeeper, and into the net.
The whole crowd rose to its feet and the roar was louder than anything TJ had heard before. Five minutes later the game was over and Wanderers were through to the knockout stage of the Champions League.
‘It’s all down to you,’ Jamie said excitedly to Rob, as they made their way slowly out of the ground.
‘I doubt it,’ said Rob. ‘But I’m really glad they won.’
CHAPTER 7
THE FOLLOWING MORNING during registration the Parkview head teacher, Mr Burrows, put his head around the classroom door. When TJ had arrived at the school Mr Burrows had not been keen on football, and things had got even worse when TJ had accidentally knocked him over with the ball one day. But these days Mr Burrows was definitely a fan of Parkview’s football team.
‘Good morning, Mr Potter,’ he beamed.
‘Good morning, Year Six. How are the preparations coming along for our friendly with St Joseph’s? I’m really looking forward to it.’
‘Preparations?’ said Mr Potter, looking flustered. ‘Match? What match?’
‘Our fixture list was on your desk,’ Mr Burrows said, with a glance at the untidy mountain of papers and books that covered the teacher’s table. ‘I put it there myself. We’re playing St Joseph’s on Friday afternoon. They’re a jolly good team. We beat them in the District Tournament but it was a close match.’
‘But . . . but I haven’t had a chance to pick a team,’ Mr Potter said.
‘In that case we can just play our squad from the tournament,’ Mr Burrows replied. ‘I expect you’ve heard, Mr Potter, that TJ and Jamie have both been invited to the Wanderers Player Development Centre, and young Tulsi is a star of the Canby Road Girls Under-elevens? We have a very strong squad. I’m sure everything will be fine.’
‘Right then,’ said Mr Potter when Mr Burrows had left the room. ‘The team. TJ, Tulsi and Jamie, as you already play football elsewhere I think it would be best if you let someone else have a chance to shine.’
‘But, Mr Potter,’ said Rafi. ‘They’re our best players. We’ll lose. St Joseph’s are really good.’
‘That’s not the point, Rafi. Sport isn’t all about winning. Everyone should have a chance to take part.’
‘We don’t mind,’ said Ebony. ‘We want them to win. That’s right, isn’t it, everyone?’
The whole class murmured their agreement.
‘This is the squad,’ said Mr Potter firmly. ‘Jay can go in goal. Ebony, Rodrigo and Danny in defence. Tommy, Leila and Cameron in midfield. Diane, Rafi and Chay, you’re the attackers. That’s all I’m going to say. Now let’s get on with Literacy. We’ve got to play this match when we should be doing lessons, so we’d better work hard to make up the time.’
When Friday afternoon arrived the sun shone and it was surprisingly warm for November, so the whole school turned out to watch the match. Lots of parents showed up too. ‘This feels weird,’ TJ said to Jamie, as they walked out on the field with the rest of the class.
‘I know,’ Jamie said. ‘Jay’s never played
in goal before. It’s crazy.’
‘But they’ve all had Mr Wood’s coaching,’ TJ said hopefully. ‘They might do OK.’
But when the St Joseph’s team ran onto the pitch and began to warm up even TJ found it hard to be cheerful. ‘They had eleven shots on target just in the first half the last time we played them,’ Rob said, consulting his notebook. ‘It was only Jamie’s amazing goalkeeping that kept us in the match.’
‘Right,’ said TJ. ‘And I remember that boy, Mac.’ He pointed at a small, tough-looking redhead who was now tossing up with Leila.
‘He’s a very good player.’
‘Look,’ said Tulsi. ‘Rodrigo and Tommy and Rafi are subs. They’re not even playing!’
Only Cameron, Leila and Danny had ever played in a proper match before and they were taking on one of the district’s top teams. ‘It’s hopeless,’ said Tulsi. ‘I don’t think I can watch.’
‘We have to support them,’ said Jamie, sticking out his chin. ‘Come on, Parkview,’ he yelled. ‘You can do it!’
The others joined in, and it seemed to make a difference. St Joseph’s passed the ball around with lightning speed but the weakened Parkview side worked hard to keep up with them. Leila raced around in midfield, challenging the red-headed Mac and forcing him to hurry his passes, and every Parkview player remembered to keep in position and concentrate.
‘Mr Wood would be proud of them,’ TJ said.
‘I’m proud of them,’ said Jamie. ‘Look at what a fantastic job Leila’s doing.’
TJ glanced at his friend. He remembered the day when Mr Wood had asked Jamie to help some of the girls who’d never played before. Jamie had taken the job very seriously and he’d done it so well that Leila had earned her place in the squad. ‘Danny’s doing well too,’ TJ said, watching the small, dark-haired boy make another tackle.
‘Not bad, I suppose,’ Jamie said.
‘I know you don’t like him,’ said TJ, ‘but I think Danny’s a good player.’
‘Maybe,’ replied Jamie. ‘Oh, no! What’s Mr Potter doing now?’
Mr Potter was shouting something to Leila. She had the ball at her feet, about to dribble past a defender. ‘Left foot, then right foot,’ Mr Potter called. ‘That’s it! Keep it under control.’
Leila hesitated, confused. Mac darted in and stole the ball. He whipped it out to the St Joseph’s winger who skipped past Ebony and hit a low, hard cross which the St Joseph’s striker side-footed into the net.
‘That was Mr Potter’s fault,’ Jamie said.
‘It’s only one–nil,’ said Rob. ‘We were doing quite well. I bet we can recover if we keep playing like that.’ He turned back to the pitch and shouted in a surprisingly loud voice, ‘Come on, Parkview! Come on, Leila. It wasn’t your fault.’
The game restarted, and the Parkview players carried on chasing and tackling, but Mr Potter began to shout out more and more instructions from the touchline. ‘Where’s the midfield?’ he yelled. ‘Get back, Cameron! No, push up, push up!’
The Parkview players began to look more and more confused, and St Joseph’s took their chance. Mac seized on a loose ball and ran straight through the middle of the Parkview defence to smash the ball past the helpless Jay. And seconds after the restart he chipped the ball over the heads of the Parkview players for the striker to run on and score. Three–nil to St Joseph’s.
‘I can’t stand this,’ said Rob, when the half-time whistle blew. ‘I’m going to talk to Mr Potter. If we bring Rafi, Rodrigo and Tommy on and we play how Mr Wood trained us, we can still beat them.’
‘Don’t,’ said TJ. ‘He won’t listen.’
But Rob was already on his way. ‘Wait,’ TJ said. ‘I’ll come with you.’
‘We’ll come too,’ said Jamie.
‘Right,’ agreed Tulsi.
‘No,’ said TJ. ‘There’s no point all of us getting in trouble. But I can’t let Rob go on his own.’
CHAPTER 8
MR POTTER WAS talking to the team. ‘They’re obviously much better than we are,’ he was saying. ‘So don’t worry about it. Just go out there and enjoy yourselves. Somebody has to win and it can’t always be us, you know.’
The Parkview players didn’t look as if they were enjoying themselves at all. ‘Excuse me, Mr Potter,’ Rob said. ‘I had some ideas about how we could beat St Joseph’s. I’ve noticed some weaknesses. We could—’
‘What are you doing over here, Rob?’ asked Mr Potter. ‘This area is meant to be for teams and their coaches only.’
‘Actually, Mr Potter,’ Leila said, ‘Rob is our official assistant coach. Mr Wood always listens to what Rob says. When we played—’
‘That’s enough, Leila,’ said Mr Potter.
‘Rob only wants to help,’ TJ put in. ‘He really does know a lot about tactics. He spotted what Wanderers needed to do to beat Milan the other night, and he—’
‘This is a school football team,’ Mr Potter said. ‘It is not Wanderers and we really don’t need two coaches, do we, boys? Off you go now, back to the other side of the pitch.’
‘You could bring Rodrigo on with Leila in midfield,’ Rob insisted. He didn’t seem to notice that Mr Potter was getting crosser and crosser. ‘And you could put Tommy on to help Danny in defence, and then Rodrigo could push forward because Leila’s doing a great job of stopping Mac, and I’d put Rafi up front because he’s fast. As long as we play the way Mr Wood taught us and keep it simple I bet we can beat them.’
‘That’s the stuff, Rob!’ said Mr Burrows, who had arrived while Rob was speaking. ‘Never give up! That’s Parkview. I was a bit worried for a moment there, Mr Potter, when I saw our first-half performance. I suppose you’ve been giving our star players a rest before the Cup match?’
‘I’m giving all our children a chance to shine, Mr Burrows,’ replied Mr Potter. ‘We’re playing a much better team than us today, and we’re bound to lose. But the children should go out there and have fun. Off you go, girls and boys. No changes. Do your best.’
The team stood up as Mr Burrows departed. ‘Try to ignore him when he shouts at you,’ Rob whispered hurriedly to Leila. ‘You were doing great before he started giving you advice. Just play the way Mr Wood wanted us to.’
‘It won’t make any difference,’ Leila said. ‘But thanks, Rob.’
‘You two,’ Mr Potter snapped. ‘This is your last warning. Back on the other side of the pitch right now. You’re distracting the team.’
‘How can they enjoy playing if they’re being thrashed?’ Rob asked TJ, as they walked away.
‘They can’t,’ TJ replied, as Parkview kicked off.
‘You can do it, Leila,’ shouted Jamie.
Leila played like a captain. She encouraged the other players and worked as hard as anyone could work. For a few minutes Parkview held their own and Diane even managed to get a shot on goal. Then Mr Potter brought on his first substitute.
‘What’s he doing now?’ gasped Tulsi, as a reluctant Rafi trotted onto the pitch and took the goalkeeping gloves from Jay. ‘Rafi can’t catch for toffee.’
‘Anyone would think he wanted to lose,’ said Jamie, as Mr Potter gave more instructions to Leila. ‘Look at this!’
Leila moved up into the striker’s position, Diane went back into defence and Danny moved forward into midfield. ‘He’s changing everything,’ said TJ. ‘It’s going to be a complete mess. I don’t think I can watch.’
But they all did watch. It was horrible. All the hard work that Leila had done getting the team organized was useless now. Mac had the ball in the centre circle and Cameron slid in to tackle him, but missed completely. Leila started to run back to help out. ‘No, Leila,’ called Mr Potter. ‘Stay up front. You’re the striker now.’
Mac moved forward into the Parkview half. He looked up and saw Rafi standing on the edge of his penalty area. ‘Look out, Rafi!’ yelled Jamie, but it was too late. Mac floated the ball over Rafi’s head and into the net.
‘It wasn’t Rafi’s fault,’ Jamie s
aid, shaking his head. ‘Goalies have to think about their positioning all the time, but Rafi’s not a goalie, is he?’
‘And St Joseph’s know that now, don’t they,’ said TJ. ‘Look.’
Another St Joseph’s player had the ball a long way from the goal. He hit a shot at Rafi that Jamie would have saved easily. Rafi dived and the ball bounced off his body straight into the path of the striker, who tapped it into the net. ‘Bad luck, Parkview,’ shouted Mr Potter. ‘Keep your heads up. Don’t give up!’
But it was hopeless. The Parkview players were disorganized and miserable. When the score reached 9–0, Mr Potter took Leila off and brought Tommy onto the field as a striker. Tommy took St Joseph’s by surprise. He raced back into his own half and tackled Mac fiercely as he was about to shoot. There was a ripple of applause from the dispirited Parkview fans. He brought the ball out of defence and passed it to Cameron who slipped past an astonished St Joseph’s midfielder and then played a return pass to Tommy, who was sprinting towards the St Joseph’s goal. Tommy took the pass in his stride and lashed the ball past the goalkeeper.
‘See,’ said Rob, as the final whistle blew. ‘We could have beaten them.’
‘But we lost nine–one,’ said TJ. ‘And that was just a friendly match. Imagine what’ll happen in the Cup.’
CHAPTER 9
‘I’M GOING TO have a word with Mr Burrows tonight about your football team,’ said TJ’s dad. ‘He’ll be there, won’t he? I don’t see why you and Jamie and Tulsi can’t play.’
It was the Saturday evening following the 9–1 defeat and the Wilson family were getting ready for a PTA Quiz Night at Parkview School. ‘I don’t think it would be much fun playing at the moment,’ said TJ. ‘Mr Potter hasn’t got a clue about how to run a football team.’
‘You mustn’t disrespect your teachers, TJ,’ frowned his mum.
‘And it’s the team that matters,’ added his dad. ‘Not how much fun TJ Wilson has. That football team has helped to make Parkview into a great school, and the team needs its best players on the pitch. That’s what we should be thinking about. Now come on, everyone. We’re going to be late.’