Jasper Zammit Soccer Legend 3

by Deborah Abela

  She nudged it back to Jasper with a small chip that lifted it above the ground. Jasper balanced on his non-kicking foot, caught it on his instep and lowered it to the ground, before sending it back.

  ‘This isn’t bad once you get the hang of it.’

  But Lil didn’t want to talk about tennis balls. ‘So, who are you going to ask?’

  Jasper lined up the ball again, pleased that he seemed to be getting the technique down. ‘Who am I going to ask what?’ He kicked it to Lil, this time giving it a little spin.

  Lil lunged for the ball, stopped it and sent it straight back.

  ‘To the dance?’

  Jasper shrugged. ‘Not sure. I hadn’t really thought about it. Hey, I think I’m finally starting to get it.’

  Jasper sent a pass spinning beyond a staring Lil.

  ‘You think so?’ Lil scowled and walked off to get the ball.

  Jasper frowned, wondering why her mood suddenly changed.

  They continued the tennis ball training until Coach Riley looked at his watch.

  ‘Okay, that’s enough. Everyone over here.’

  The Rovers gathered up their tennis balls and stood in front of the coach. ‘You all need a lot more work, but that was a good start. Drop the balls in here.’ He pointed to his bag. ‘It’s time to warm down.’

  The Rovers exchanged quiet looks. Usually at the end of each training session they played a short game. It was something they had always done and that Jasper looked forward to so that he, Lil and Aamir could try out new moves they had practised throughout the week.

  When they were finished, the coach picked up his clipboard and lifted off some sheets. ‘Tricky?’

  ‘Yes, Coach.’ It looked like Tricky was almost going to salute.

  ‘Give one of these to everyone.’

  Tricky took the bundle of papers and began handing them out.

  ‘These are training schedules. I’ve outlined a series of exercises I want you to practise every day so that by the end of this week, you’ll be experts. That’s it for tonight. Anyone have any questions?’

  He smiled when he said it, but there was something in his voice that told the Rovers it was best if they didn’t have any.

  ‘Good. See you all on Saturday.’

  He turned and began packing his bag as the Rovers quietly got ready to leave.

  Jasper walked up behind him.

  ‘Excuse me, sir, but I don’t need one of these.’ Jasper held out the training schedule. ‘My grandad and I already train every day.’

  Coach Riley stopped packing, leaving a long enough pause to let Jasper know he wasn’t happy.

  ‘My grandad used to play for Australia,’ Jasper tried to explain.

  ‘I know who your grandad is, but he played a long time ago and I don’t need any of my players using outdated training methods. From now on, all you’ll need is to follow this … carefully … prepared … sheet.’

  The last three words were spelt out slowly, which Jasper felt like three very pointed jabs in the chest. ‘Yes, Mr Riley … I mean, Coach.’

  ‘Good.’ He said it like he’d just given Jasper a warning, like they were in some kind of LA gang movie with guns and fast cars, not on the local soccer grounds with a bunch of kids and a soccer ball.

  Each player quietly took out their shin pads, gathered up their bags, jumpers and drink bottles and went to meet their parents. After most training sessions, some of the Rovers would stay back and play a small game. Sometimes even with members from other teams or some of the parents.

  But today there was none of it.

  Usually Jasper left training on a high, one that took hours to come down from, but this time all he felt was down. How was he going to tell his grandad they couldn’t train the way they usually did? Nannu could be pretty stubborn when it came to soccer, and Jasper knew if anyone questioned his training methods, methods that had worked for him and the Australian team, he wasn’t going to be happy.

  JOHNNY SAYS:

  Soccer is made up of a number of skills. How well you acquire these skills is technique; how well you use them in a game is tactics. The jigsaw must fit: it’s no good being able to trap the ball with a marvellous technique and not know what to do with it next. You need to be able to string together a series of moves – trap, feint, pass – or each individual skill will be wasted.

  ‘That’s good! Now let’s try it with some spin.’

  Jasper’s grandad stood at one end of the backyard and kicked the ball into the air. Jasper ran forward and, leaping into the air, cushioned the ball with his chest and trapped it with his foot. He passed it back to his grandad, who got ready to send the ball in a different direction.

  Ronaldinho ran around the edge of the yard, barking encouragement.

  Jasper waited while his grandad looked him in the eye. ‘Ready? Try to guess what I’m about to do. It’s almost the hardest thing you can do in soccer, and with some players it’s almost impossible.’

  Jasper concentrated hard. He watched where his grandad had positioned his feet, how he held his arms and which way his body was leaning. Then Nannu kicked the ball.

  Jasper crouched into a deep lunge before scrambling sideways, desperate not to let the ball touch the ground.

  Ronaldinho barked again as Jasper sprinted towards the ball.

  ‘Go, son!’ Nannu yelled.

  Jasper watched the ball, judged its path and threw out his chest in a last ditch effort. When the ball struck, Jasper curved his body inwards, allowing it to settle into his body, dampening its speed and giving him just the right amount of control to let it drop towards his feet. He held his boot flat, holding the ball with his instep as he hit the ground. He flicked it into the air with his left foot and, with a powerful drive, sent it rocketing down to the end of the yard with his right one, straight towards Nannu.

  Ronaldinho went into a barking frenzy, jumping and turning in the air as if it was him who’d controlled the ball so well. And he wasn’t the only one.

  Jasper’s parents piled out from their hiding place behind the kitchen curtains and started clapping and shouting from the back veranda, as did the entire contingent of parents who had arrived to help with the organising of the school dance.

  ‘Way to go, son! That was brilliant. Woo hoo!’

  Jasper’s dad wasn’t into sports, but when it came to his son playing, he was a big fan.

  ‘You were great, darling.’ His mother was the same. ‘I could stand up here all day and watch you.’

  They’d also been to Good Parenting classes that never told them when praise for your kid went way overboard.

  ‘You impressed me,’ Mrs Deakin said. ‘And I don’t even know anything about soccer.’

  ‘He really has some talent, doesn’t he?’ Mr Portland declared, clasping his hands across his rounded belly. He looked at Jasper’s dad. ‘No wonder you go on about him like you do.’

  Jasper’s face blossomed into a blazing maroon mess. He felt his blood course into every embarrassed nerve ending as the comments and clapping continued. Surely they were going to stop soon. Weren’t they?

  Nannu knew Jasper needed saving from his parents’ over-enthusiasm. ‘Okay, folks, show’s over. It’s time for a well-earned break.’

  Jasper’s dad invited the parents back inside with a running commentary on how good his son was. ‘He trains every day, you know, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He’s got soccer in his bones. A real talent. He’ll be up there with the best one day.’ And he probably went on like that for the next half hour.

  Ronaldinho whined in sympathy. He liked Jasper’s mum and dad, especially when it came to Sundays, when they would give him the bone from the roast, but they just never understood what it was to go too far.

  Jasper and his grandad sat down on the garden chairs with Ronaldinho curled up at their feet. Nannu went into his flat to get some cold drinks from his fridge. ‘You can relax now, they’ve gone.’ He smiled at his grandson’s fire engine complexion.

/>   Jasper turned around to make sure. ‘You know I think they’re great, but why do they have to do that?’

  ‘They all do that. It’s in the parent rule book that they have to embarrass their children at least once a day.’ Nannu laughed and his face melted into a cheeky smile. ‘You wait until you get the chance. It’s fun.’

  They sipped their drinks while the laughter from the parents drifted out across the yard. Nannu looked at his grandson and could tell there was something on his mind, and it wasn’t just the parents.

  ‘Feeling okay about the lead-up to the finals?’

  ‘Yep.’

  Nannu probed further. ‘How’s the new coach?’

  Ronaldinho lifted his head and growled softly.

  ‘Good,’ Jasper answered.

  Nannu’s eyebrow raised above a crooked scowl. ‘That’s the most unconvincing “good” I’ve heard since your Nanna tried to tell me how good my cooking was. Now come on, tell me.’

  Jasper sighed. ‘How do you do that?’

  ‘Do what?’

  ‘How do you always know when there’s something going on?’

  ‘So there is!’ Nannu smiled victoriously.

  ‘Yeah, but how do you do it?’

  ‘You wear it on your shoulders. Your dad’s the same. Any time he has a problem I can see it in him too. It’s a Zammit thing. At least in the men. So enough stalling, out with it.’

  Jasper took a deep breath and stared at the smile on his grandad’s face. No matter how happy his Nanna was now, he wasn’t going to like what he was about to hear. ‘It’s nothing really. Coach Riley just doesn’t train us the way Coach Wallace did.’

  ‘Every coach has their own style. There’ll be some that you’ll like more than others, but your job is to learn something from all of them. Even if it’s a small thing.’

  Jasper was building up to the big revelation.

  ‘He gives us different exercises to do.’

  ‘Are they too hard?’

  ‘It’s not that.’ Jasper just had to come out with it. ‘He gave us this.’

  He pulled Coach Riley’s folded and crumpled training schedule out of his pocket.

  Nannu took it and ran his eyes over it.

  ‘Oh, I see.’ There was a lilt in his body. ‘It’s a bit tough and not quite how I’d do it, but they’re good exercises. We’ll do these instead.’

  And that was it. The blow-up from Nannu that Jasper expected hadn’t happened.

  ‘Now, what’s the other thing?’

  ‘What other thing?’ Jasper sipped on his ice-cold juice, relieved that Nannu had accepted the schedule so calmly.

  ‘There’s something else.’

  ‘No,’ Jasper shrugged. ‘That’s it.’

  This time a bigger wave of laughter floated out of the house. Jasper flinched and toyed with the ball at his feet.

  ‘I can see it,’ Nannu insisted. ‘Is Aamir having trouble again?’

  Aamir had recently been given a hard time for being from another country.

  ‘No, Aamir’s fine. He’s learnt to be pretty good at sticking up for himself.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘Jasper!’ His mum and Mrs Deakin stepped onto the veranda again. ‘How about Romeo and Juliet?’

  Jasper frowned. ‘What about them?’

  ‘As the theme for the school dance,’ his mum explained. ‘We could make a balcony and have flowers and ivy covering the walls, and there could be a prize for the best Romeo and Juliet costume.’

  Jasper’s face hardened into an expression of well-chiselled horror.

  ‘I … I …’

  ‘We knew you’d love it,’ his mum fizzed. ‘We’ve got a few more details to work out, but it’s going to be a hit.’

  Jasper’s just-seen-a-skeleton look stayed with him as he turned back to his grandad.

  ‘Is it the dance?’ His grandad asked.

  The dance, Jasper thought. He didn’t think it was the dance that was bugging him. At least it hadn’t been before the Romeo idea. He took another sip of his drink.

  ‘Is it Lil?’ Nannu wouldn’t give up.

  Jasper didn’t answer.

  ‘Have you two had a fight?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘But you want to ask her as your date,’ Nannu figured out.

  ‘Partner, not date, and I don’t know,’ Jasper blurted defensively.

  ‘Let me tell you, that’s a yes.’

  Jasper shifted in his seat as if someone had put thumbtacks underneath him while he wasn’t looking. ‘Maybe, only Lil’s my friend and my soccer mate. Asking her to a dance changes everything.’

  ‘It doesn’t have to. I’ll tell you a secret. Treat it like you’re asking her something else. Something simple, like whether she’d like an ice-cream. It takes the pressure off.’

  ‘Will that work?’

  ‘It did for me.’ Nannu smiled. ‘I remember the first time your Nanna and I went out on a date. I couldn’t sleep or eat for days and my legs shook so badly I couldn’t walk straight.’

  ‘But then you asked her?’

  ‘No, she got sick of waiting so she asked me first. It was such a relief when she did. I could go back to being normal again, and I was so hungry from not eating that I ate a whole roasted chicken in one sitting.’

  Ronaldinho barked. No one had fed him yet and he wished Nannu hadn’t mentioned the chicken.

  ‘But I’m not asking Lil out on a date. It’s a dance.’

  Nannu smiled cheekily. ‘I know, so what you need to remember is that asking Lil to the dance is like soccer.’

  This was one of Nannu’s favourite sayings. He could talk about any situation in life and compare it to soccer.

  ‘Once soccer players have mastered one skill, they need to learn another so that they’re always adding to what they know, and soon they’ll have built up a whole range of skills that will help them out in any situation. You and Lil have already mastered being good friends and great soccer buddies, and this is just another part of all that. Does that make sense?’

  ‘I think so,’ Jasper answered unsurely.

  Nannu sat back in his chair like he was hosting a TV talk show and he was giving advice on relationship problems. ‘Take a deep breath and just do it. You’ll find it’s easier than you think.’

  Jasper picked up his drink. Maybe Nannu was right. It made sense. Not the chicken bit, but the rest of it did. He always liked learning a new skill in soccer. Maybe this was the same. He’d treat it like he was asking Lil over for training. He did that a lot and he’d never once freaked out about that.

  A wailing love song chorus came crooning out of the house. Jasper winced, not only at the off-key notes that were sure to be grounds for the neighbours to call the police, but at the whole Romeo thing that was going to make it a lot harder to pretend his question to Lil was about ice-cream or soccer training.

  JOHNNY SAYS:

  Momentarily faking out your opponent by starting in one direction and going in another or changing your dribbling pace can give you an extra second to make a play, shoot or pass. But it’s important to know what this second action will be before you feint. A good second action will keep the ball in your team’s possession and open up scoring chances.

  ‘Take it back!’

  Diego had rolled Tricky onto the ground and had his arm twisted behind his back.

  ‘Never!’ Tricky wheezed.

  Diego took a deep breath and heaved all his weight against Tricky who, at the last minute, managed to roll away so that he was now on top.

  ‘Now who’s the wimp?’

  ‘You are!’ Diego gasped through a strained smile.

  That was it. Tricky was really going to give it to him now. ‘Really? Well maybe you won’t think that after I …’

  ‘Ah, fellas?’

  Coach Riley’s voice was soft, but it cut through the air and stopped them mid-wrestle. He wore a suit and tie and had his whistle hanging round his neck. They looked up.

  ‘Can I see you
for a moment?’

  Coach Riley had asked all the parents to bring the Rovers to the grounds early so he could make sure they had a proper warm-up before the game. He’d heard in the past that there had been injuries from players not warming up properly, and that wasn’t going to happen while he was coach.

  Tricky and Diego slowly got up, not wanting to be the first to let go in case the other tried a dirty move. A firm and warning stare remained between them. When they were standing, they gave each other a shove before making their way to the coach.

  ‘What was that?’ Coach Riley asked with a smile.

  ‘Just a pre-match workout,’ Diego answered. ‘Tricky and I sometimes get a little carried away when it comes to soccer.’

  The coach nodded and smiled, but it was the kind of smile that had see-me-after-school written all over it.

  It sucked away Tricky and Diego’s playfulness like bathwater down a drain.

  ‘On the field, as soccer players you are representing your team, your parents and your coach. You have the responsibility of representing them with dignity and respect.’

  Coach Riley turned a large gold ring on his finger.

  ‘Do you think wrestling in the dirt does that?’

  Even though Coach spoke quietly, Tricky felt like he’d just been yelled at. ‘No, Coach.’

  ‘Good. So that’s the last we’ll see of that then.’

  ‘It’s only a bit of fun,’ Diego laughed.

  Behind them, the rest of the Rovers had gathered as the air filled with a chilly silence.

  ‘You can have fun after the finals, but until then I want you to act like a sportsman when you come onto this field.’ He caught sight of one of the association officials talking to some of the parents. ‘Warm-up in five minutes.’

  Diego waited until Coach Riley was well out of earshot. ‘Someone needs to find that man’s funny bone. He’s obviously lost it somewhere.’

  Tricky stared at the coach, who was laughing confidently with the other adults. ‘He’s right.’

  ‘What?’ Diego spluttered. ‘He’s an uptight control freak is what he is.’

  ‘He’s right,’ Tricky repeated, even more convinced. ‘How can we even hope to respect the game as it’s meant to be respected if we act like kids?’