Johnny Ball

by Matt Oldfield

  When the coach blew her whistle for a drinks break, the players formed two different groups on the pitch:

  the boys on one side

  and the girls on the other.

  Interesting… It was especially interesting to me because our best player was a girl – Tabs! If the Epic boys were stupid enough to think that they were better than girls, then she would happily prove them wrong, with a little help from her teammates, both the boys and the girls…

  TING! LIGHT-BULB MOMENT. I had Miss Patel to thank for this one. In class, we had been learning all about Ancient Greece: the gods, the togas, the Olympics and … THE TROJAN HORSE.

  The Trojan Horse was my new favourite story EVER. Basically, those greedy Greeks really wanted to take over a city called Troy, but they couldn’t find a way in (a bit like me and Tabs at Epic Forest).

  So what they did was leave an enormous wooden horse outside the city gates. Don’t ask me why, but the silly Trojans took one look at it and thought, Wow, thanks, what a lovely gift!

  Then, when they brought the horse into the city and went to bed … TA-DA! It turned out that the enormous wooden horse was full of super-strong Greek soldiers.

  Great idea, right? But what if I could turn it into a great football idea? What if we, Tissbury Primary, could take our own Trojan Horse to the County Cup Final? Not a real horse, obviously, or a wooden one either. No, just a super-clever plan to trick those silly Epic boys…

  But just as I was working it all out in my head, something REALLY scary happened. Suddenly, we could hear a super-loud, wailing siren sound and the words:

  “INTRUDER ALERT! INTRUDER ALERT!”

  Uh-oh, we must have somehow set off Epic’s security alarm climbing over the fence! The training session stopped immediately, and the players spread out to search for the intruders.

  “I bet it’s those twerps from Tissbury, coming to spy on us!”

  “If so, let’s show them how serious we are about keeping our training sessions secret!”

  Nooooo! My worst nightmare was coming true. Once they caught us, Tissbury would be kicked out of the County Cup, ALL BECAUSE OF ME…

  “Come on, let’s go back the way we came!” Tabs whispered to me, but it was no use. We wouldn’t make it over the fence in time.

  Think, Johnny, think! It was now or never…

  TING! ANOTHER LIGHT-BULB MOMENT. Phew, my football brain was on fire!

  “No, follow me!” I told Tabs quietly, pointing towards the pitch.

  “What? Are you crazy?”

  “No, I’m not; I promise!”

  Together, we raced out onto the grass, which was now empty because the coach and all of the players were searching for us in the bushes.

  “Quick, grab one of their hoodies!” I said, snatching one for myself too. It wasn’t stealing; it was just borrowing. We would bring them back later.

  Soon, we were walking calmly (well, sort of) past the Epic Forest school office, with “EPIC” written on our backs and our hoods right up. It was a pretty good disguise, but would anyone notice us…?

  No! We walked as far as the school gate, then left the hoodies there and ran away as fast as we could.

  “I’m never … doing … that … again!” I panted as we sat down on the back seat of the bus.

  This time, Tabs didn’t call me a sweet-chilli-chicken. I think even she was too terrified for a nasty name battle right then.

  But the good news was that, thanks to our scary scouting adventure, I now knew what my super-clever County Cup plan would be.

  TISSBURY PRIMARY VS EPIC FOREST (PART I)

  OK, that’s enough of the boring build-up. It’s time to fast forward to the main event – THE COUNTY CUP FINAL!

  That morning, I was feeling way too nervous to sit down and enjoy my usual “Three-a-Fried” breakfast. But Mum wouldn’t stop talking:

  “Aren’t you the cleverest little clog?”

  “Would you like to see the smart new coat I bought you for your big day?”

  “And this nice waistcoat! All the top managers are wearing them these days…”

  No, no and no (thanks)! I already had everything that I needed: my scarf, my pocket notebook and my head full of great football ideas … hopefully!

  I got Dad to drop me off super early so that I could have some time alone to think. As Tiss drove out of the car park, Dad flashed his lights to wish me luck. I was going to need it. I was about to experience my first proper match as a football manager, and if I failed, it might be my last. As I stood there on the touchline, the empty pitch looked enormous. I tried to imagine the game going on in front of me:

  What would I say?

  What would I DO?

  Think, Johnny, think!

  One by one, the Tissbury players arrived, and I could tell that they were just as nervous as me.

  Gabby’s legs were shaking like someone had just shouted, “PENALTIES!”

  Mo looked like he was going to be sick again.

  Alex W was so quiet that I thought someone had told him that Koyo wasn’t real.

  Uh-oh, what they needed was a TOTALLY AWESOME TEAM TALK! What was I going to say? Think, Johnny, think!

  “Right, troops,” I started, but then I stopped straight away. I didn’t need to do my best mini-Mr-Mann impression any more. I was free to be me – Johnny Ball: Football Manager, “THE NEXT PAUL PORTERFIELD”, and the future number one football genius in the whole wide world!

  I cleared my throat and started again:

  “Today’s match is going to be super tough, but there’s nothing to be nervous about, I promise. Just enjoy it, because you’ve done so well to get this far. Epic Forest are … epic, but you’re epic too, OK? I believe in you all. Look what you’ve achieved already by working together as a team!”

  “YEAH!” cheered everyone except you-know-who.

  “Billy, is there anything you want to say as captain?” I asked.

  Tabs looked at me like I’d just beaten her in a nasty name battle. What? Why? A battle cry from Billy sounded like the worst football idea ever…

  “If it wasn’t for me—” Billy began to bellow, but before he could finish, he spotted someone standing near by. It was like he’d been hit in the face by one of his own heavy metal boots (he was now wearing Daniel’s old ones instead, thankfully!).

  “Mu-mu-mu-mum, what are you doing here?”

  “Is that any way to greet your mother? Your manager invited me, William. He said this game was important, but I suppose it must have slipped your mind to tell me.”

  “M-m-m-mr Mann?”

  “No, Mr Ball actually, but we’ll discuss exactly what he had to say later. Just get on with your speech, William – your team is waiting. ‘If it wasn’t for me’…?”

  Suddenly, Billy was on his best behaviour. “I-i-if it wasn’t for me-ETINGS like this, we wouldn’t be such a strong team. Well done, everyone, let’s win this final!”

  At first, the others were too shocked to say anything, but soon they were cheering again. “YEAH!”

  I looked down at the long list in my pocket notebook:

  Get Billy to play nice – TICK!

  So far so good. On to Step Two of my County Cup Final master plan…

  “I know Mr Mann named the team at practice, but I’m going to make one tiny change,” I announced. “Billy, I want you to move back into defence and, Scott, I want you to move forward into midfield. OK?”

  Billy checked to see if his mum was still watching; sadly for him, she was. “OK,” he muttered moodily.

  Well, that was easy! Step Three could wait until after kick-off.

  FWEEEEEEET!

  I had never seen so many people turn up for a Tissbury Primary match before. There were loads of fans that I didn’t even know, and some that I definitely did:

  “YOU CAN DO IT, JOHNNY-DEAREST!”

  “Go on, son, show them how to – owwwww, my ankle!”

  “Bravo, miladdy – absatootly razzle-dazzle!”

  And D
aniel. What was my brother doing there? We still weren’t speaking, so had Mum and Dad forced him to come? Whatever the reason, he stood as far away from our family as possible, not saying a single cool-kid word and probably wishing that he could have stayed at home instead.

  It was great to see them all there watching, but I had wallops of work to do. Hand-shield up, football-focus on…

  One of the silliest things that football people say is: “It’s a game of two halves.”

  Well, duh? But actually, the County Cup Final was more like a game of three thirds. In the first, Tissbury were definitely the team on top.

  Gabby “Hard Hands” Walters saved every Epic shot.

  Billy looked way better in defence, where he didn’t have to run so much and he could HOOF! the ball even harder.

  Scott sprinted around the midfield, sliding into every tackle like it was a puddle of mud.

  Alex W looked ready to kick it for Koyo.

  And Tabia … well, actually Tabia was playing really badly. It was like she had flippers instead of feet!

  “What wa—” Billy began to shout at her until he remembered who was watching. “—rm weather! Perfect for a Cup Final.”

  Don’t worry, Tabia was only doing what I’d told her to do – “play really badly”. That was Step Three of my County Cup Final master plan. You’ll see why in a second…

  Epic looked good, but not … epic. The boys passed and then moved, passed and then moved, but the girls just moved … and moved … and moved. They barely got a touch of the ball, just like we’d seen on our scary scouting adventure.

  “Pass it to Priya!” their coach kept calling, but it was as if the Epic girls were invisible.

  And after a few of her most terrible touches, Tabia was almost invisible too.

  “Don’t worry about marking her,” I heard the silly Epic boys say. “She’s not their danger MAN!”

  I couldn’t wait to see my best friend run rings around them. I gave her the signal – it was time for … TISSBURY’S TROJAN TABIA!

  The next time she got the ball out on the left wing, her flippers had miraculously turned back into mad-skilful feet! Uh-oh, those Epic boys were in big trouble. Just like the Trojans, they hadn’t spotted the danger (WOMAN!) until it was way too late.

  Cruyff Turn.

  Rainbow Flick.

  Stepover 1, stepover 2, stepover 3…

  Nutmeg.

  GOOOOOOOOAAAAAAALLLL!!!!!

  Wow, it was even better than I’d expected! The Epic boys rubbed their eyes like they’d just seen a unicorn, and the Epic girls just clapped … and clapped … and clapped.

  “THAT’S MY GIRL,” Mum shouted in her awful American accent, “AND MY BOY TOO!”

  I raced down the touchline with both arms up in the air. I couldn’t help it – my master plan had worked and Tissbury were winning the County Cup Final!

  “Wait, was that all part of the plan?” Billy bellowed, looking as confused as an elephant on ice.

  “That’s right,” Tabia cried out triumphantly. “Johnny Ball, have I ever told you that YOU’RE A FOOTBALL GENIUS?”

  TISSBURY PRIMARY VS EPIC FOREST (PART II)

  Hopefully by now you’re on Team Tissbury, just like me. Did you celebrate Tabia’s wonder-goal with a WHOOP! and a special, secret handshake? Well, if you did, don’t get too excited just yet.

  Because remember what I told you a few pages ago? The County Cup Final was a game of three thirds. The first third belonged to us, but sadly the second third belonged to Epic.

  Two things happened that changed the game completely:

  1. Their coach took off one of the silly boys and brought on another girl.

  2. Epic became … epic!

  PASS, THEN MOVE,

  PASS, THEN MOVE,

  PASS, THEN MOVE…

  Normally, I love watching fantastic, flowing football like that, but not when I’m the manager of the other team! What could I do to stop them? If I didn’t do something soon, Epic were going to pass us right off the pitch!

  Think, Johnny, think!

  Scott was doing his best to win the ball back, but it was like a game of piggy-in-the-middle and he was the poor little piggy.

  “I need some help here!” he called out.

  “Do your own de—” Billy began to bellow, but luckily for him, he didn’t even have the energy to finish his sentence.

  Somehow, we made it through to half-time without letting in a goal. Phew! We were still winning the County Cup Final. But as the Tissbury players walked off the pitch, they looked more like zombies than footballers. They were so exhausted that they could hardly put one foot in front of the other.

  “Come on, team, we’re halfway there!” I told them, but Alex W was slumped on the ground and Scott wasn’t moving.

  “Izzy and Mo – get ready. You’re coming on!”

  “Yes, Coach!”

  “YES, COACH – I’M READY FOR THIS!”

  “That’s it, Super Sub!”

  I had never seen Mo look so calm and determined about football. He sprang to his feet with his fists clenched and started doing some stretches. He certainly wasn’t “Sicky” any more.

  I looked at the rest of my team. Gabby could carry on in goal, Billy didn’t do much running anyway, and Tabs didn’t know the meaning of the word “tired”. Good, all set for the second half!

  But first, it was time for my TOTALLY AWESOME HALF-TIME TEAM TALK. It was going to have to be the greatest speech of my life:

  “Listen up, this is your big chance to go down in Tissbury Primary history. In years to come, people will be talking about you like they talk about Daniel now!”

  That glorious name was enough to wake Billy up a bit.

  When I pointed over at Daniel, I expected him to be staring down at his phone. But instead, he nodded back at me with a goofy grin on his face. Whoa, I hadn’t seen him smile like that since Year 6! What was going on? In that moment, my body was buzzing like the phone in his cool-kid pocket. Maybe my brother had my back after all! So did Mum and Dad and Grandpa George too. My football family were proud of me; they believed in me. I could do this! Suddenly, I knew exactly what to say: “Why do we all love football? Because we want to be HEROES, that’s why! Well, today, you’re going to go out there and do whatever it takes to become the HEROES you want to be!”

  “YEAH!” cheered everyone, including you-know-who.

  For the first ten minutes, my TOTALLY AWESOME HALF-TIME TEAM TALK worked a “tricker treat” as Grandpa George would say. Mo and Izzy fizzed around the field like they’d had a few too many fizzy drinks. Even Billy was boshing his way through to win the ball back for his team.

  “Well done, William!” His mum clapped, wiping away a tear like it was a super-embarrassing bogey.

  But just when it was all going so well, disaster struck. Tabs stretched out her left leg to make a tackle and…

  “ARGHHHHHHHHH!” she cried out in agony.

  It was bad news. Tabs had to hobble off and on came Alex C.

  “Run your sock—” I started to say to him, but I stopped myself just in time. No more silly football phrases; just normal things that made sense. “Go out there and RUN, RUN, RUN!” I went for instead.

  “Yes, Coach!”

  Unfortunately, the bad news got worse. Much worse. With our best player off the pitch, Epic upped their game.

  WARNING! They were starting to find bigger and bigger gaps in the Tissbury defence.

  DANGER! They were moving closer and closer to the Tissbury goal.

  HUGE DANGER! As the Epic striker tried to chest the ball down on the edge of the area, Alex C charged in clumsily, hammer-head first.

  He missed the ball and he missed the player too, but that’s not what the referee saw. No, what he saw was the Epic striker:

  1. Fall to the grass like he’d been hit in the face by one of Billy’s boots.

  2. Do four forward rolls in a row, all the way into the back of Gabby’s goal!

  In a gymnastics
competition, he would have won a gold medal for that performance.

  In the County Cup Final, he somehow won a free kick.

  “No way!” Alex C argued. “I didn’t touch him!”

  “Ref, that boy’s a DIVING, STINKING CHEAT!” Billy bellowed.

  Suddenly, he didn’t care if his mum could hear him or not, and for the first time ever, I was on Billy’s side. I stormed over to Epic’s coach.

  “Surely you’re not going to let your player get away with that? He dived and you know it!”

  But she just shrugged and said, “Sorry, I’m not the referee, kid.”

  WHOA, who was she calling “kid”? Only Mum was allowed to get away with something like that. Breathe, Johnny, breathe! To calm myself down, I updated my heroes list in my head. Epic’s Coach. So there!

  If it had been a penalty, Gabby could have pranked that SNOT-SNAKE with one of her jokes. But instead, it was a free kick. I could hardly watch as the Epic striker stepped up to take it. I wish I’d buried my face in my extra-long scarf, but instead I watched as he curled the ball over Billy’s and Alex C’s heads, and over Gabby’s outstretched arms too.

  1–1.

  It’s really hard to describe that horrible moment, but I’ll try. It felt like … like the Epic striker’s shot had gone into my mouth and dropped down to the bottom of my tummy with an awful, sinking PLOP!

  What now? I thought. I felt like giving up, but I couldn’t; not when my family was there watching; not when my team needed me; and not when Billy was getting ready to BASH! anyone in his way.

  Uh-oh. “TIME OUT!” I shouted, making the “T” with my hands like cool coaches (so not Epic’s coach).

  Billy was barking out his plan before he even reached the team huddle. “I say we hit those thud-heads hard and hurt them for real!”

  “YEAH!” cheered Alex C.

  “No!” I wasn’t going to let Billy ruin our County Cup run now.

  “Why not? They deserve it!”

  “Because … because FIGHTING’S FOR …FLAPJACKS!”