“Let’s have a go,” said Keira, who had just arrived with the twins.
“All right. Headers and volleys,” replied Roddy, chipping the ball towards Eboni.
Eboni ran to meet the ball and smashed it goalwards with her left foot, but Marek pulled off another stunning save.
As more of the year arrived, a game developed, and everyone was a little disappointed when Mr Jenkins arrived and set them to doing proper training drills. Not so long ago, Roddy would have struggled to play an energetic game then do a training session afterwards, but Mr Jenkins’s emphasis on fitness and stamina was really working. Roddy’s times for running laps of the pitch were getting better and better, and the cool January sunshine kept him at a comfortable temperature as he ran.
On the way to the changing rooms after the practice session, Mr Jenkins cornered Marek. By the time he got under the shower, everyone else was changed, but his friends were waiting for him in the team-talk room.
“What did Mr Jenkins want?” asked Roddy, when Marek appeared.
“You’re not going to believe this,” said Marek. “He reckons I ought to consider training as a goalie for the first team.”
“Really?” Keira thought about it. “Well, you do seem to have the talent for it.”
“I’m helping out Charlton, and that’s fine, but I don’t want to be a goalie for ever,” said Marek.
“But you’re so good at it!” said Jimmy.
“That’s not the point!” said Marek. He glared at Jimmy. “I’m a striker, aren’t I? I’m not going to abandon that. I’ve always wanted to be a striker, and that’s what I’m going to be when I turn professional.”
“OK, OK,” laughed Jimmy, lifting his hands. “Don’t blow your top. Everyone knows you’re a striker. So what did you say?”
“I reminded him that I was a striker,” Marek said seriously.
“Oh, Marek, really. You are an idiot,” laughed Geno. “You did so well in the House Cup match, and you’ve got the height. You should go for it.”
“You’re only saying that because you’re a striker, like me.” Marek sounded cross. “You want the glory of scoring all the goals with me out of the way.”
Geno looked shocked. “No way,” he insisted. “I’d love to be more of an all-rounder. And goalkeepers are always in demand. Any team would be pleased to have someone in the squad who plays up front, but is also handy as a keeper. It wouldn’t have to be your main position.”
“But that’s the problem!” said Marek. “The school’s got plenty of forwards and a shortage of keepers, and I think Mr Jenkins wants me to sacrifice my career as a striker and be a goalie full time!” Then he gathered his kit and stomped off.
Roddy and Geno exchanged glances. “He’d probably get on well with Mr Roberts,” said Geno. “They’ve both had a sense-of-humour bypass!”
“He does take things very seriously,” agreed Keira. “You’d think he’d have been flattered that Mr Jenkins even suggested it.”
For the next few days, Marek kept well away from goal while Mr Jenkins was around, but Roddy noticed that he was still enjoying keeping for Sam at the Charlton House training sessions. And they had a tough match against Moore coming up in less than two weeks, so it was just as well. Despite their healthy lead over the other first-year teams, Charlton was behind Moore in the competition overall. Moore had won the House Cup last year, but this time things were so tight that every goal counted.
A couple of days later, before training, Mr Jenkins cornered Marek as he and Roddy emerged from the changing rooms.
“Hang on a minute, Marek, can I have a word?” he said. “I’d like you to have a short session with Mr Roberts today.”
Marek stopped dead. Roddy could see him working himself up to an angry reply, but Mr Jenkins got there first.
“I know you keep saying that you don’t have any ambition to be a goalkeeper,” he said. “But you’re currently playing that position in the House Cup. All the other goalies get special training, and Charlton shouldn’t miss out. You might find you pick up some useful tips.”
Marek opened his mouth and then shut it again. He still hadn’t managed to say anything by the time Mr Jenkins walked away.
Roddy nudged him in the ribs. “Come on then, goalie,” he teased. “Where’s your multi-coloured shirt?”
“Shut up,” said Marek. “I’m not a goalkeeper. I’m…”
“You need it tattooed on your forehead, so people don’t forget,” Roddy said. He lifted his hand and began to trace the letters on his friends head. “S… T… R… I…”
“Get off!” snarled Marek.
After their run, Marek did as he was told and trained with Mr Roberts. When he finally came over to join everyone, he was looking rather muddy, but quite content.
“How’d it go?” asked Roddy.
Marek’s mood changed immediately. He looked suspiciously at Roddy before admitting, “OK.” Then he jogged over to Stephen Mbeki and started talking to him.
Roddy shrugged and went to see Keira.
“What’s up with him?” she asked.
Roddy frowned. “I made the mistake of teasing him about being a goalkeeper, and he didn’t like it,” he said.
“Well, mind you don’t upset him,” she warned. “We need him happy and in top form for our match against Moore.”
“Don’t worry,” said Roddy. “He’ll come round.” Then they both went their separate ways to shower and change before the normal school day took over.
After training that afternoon, they had some free time, and Roddy challenged Jimmy to a game of pool. They were about to set off back to their boarding house when Roddy paused. “Have you seen Marek?” he asked, wondering if he wanted to play pool, too.
“He’s over there, look.” Jimmy pointed to the field.
He was right. Marek hadn’t gone in like everyone else. He was still out practising his shooting skills, with a half-empty net of balls by his feet. Time after time, he would spot a ball, take a run up, and aim for the goal.
Roddy watched for a few moments. Marek was really pushing himself. He was obviously trying to reach the top-right corner of the net. He got a couple on target, but several times he hit the woodwork, and a few shots missed entirely. It was going to be a pain collecting up all the balls again. For a moment, Roddy thought about offering to help. But he’d just had a shower, and got changed. It was a chilly day and he was looking forward to his game of pool.
“Leave him to it,” urged Jimmy. “He’ll come in when he’s had enough.”
“I suppose,” agreed Roddy. “But what’s he doing it for? He doesn’t usually spend extra time out there.”
There was something strange going on, and Roddy was determined to get to the bottom of it.
6. Marek Owns Up
At weekends, some people went out for the day with parents or relations. Roddy’s family lived too far away for that, so he always stayed in school, but on the next Sunday, Marek was collected by his cousin. When he came back, he was grinning.
“Look at this!” he said, coming into the common room and unrolling a large, Polish flag. “My cousin got it for me. I hope I can watch the match on TV tonight. It’s a big game for my country.”
“Great!” said Roddy enthusiastically. “Let’s hang up the flag somewhere in here.”
“Did you have a nice time with your cousin?” asked Geno.
“Yes,” said Marek. “His wife cooked a Polish meal, and it was delicious. Much better than English food.”
Gino noticed the look on his face and laughed. “I think you just made a joke,” he said.
“Maybe,” said Marek, with a slight smile.
There was a good crowd to watch Poland’s match against Latvia, and most people were supporting Marek’s country. Mr Clutterbuck came in to watch the second half, and there was a nail-biting finish. A huge groan went up from everyone when Poland gave away a penalty, but the shot went wide, and they just managed to pull off a win.
“Is your
cousin keen on football?” asked Roddy, as they went upstairs to bed.
Marek spread the flag over his duvet before getting in. “Oh, yes!” he said. “In fact…” he paused, and looked serious. “He says he’s coming to watch me play in the match against Leeds.”
“Lucky you,” said Roddy enthusiastically.
“You’ll have to make sure you get your place in the starting line-up, then,” said Jimmy.
“As if Marek needs to worry about that,” said Geno. “He’s been doing extra training all week, practising free kicks and penalties.”
“But I’ve been training with Mr Roberts, too,” Marek said. “So there’s been less time to spend on my proper training.”
“You worry too much,” said Geno sleepily.
Marek turned over and the bed creaked. “You know how tough it is to get picked for the first team,” he said. “If I let my game suffer, Mr Jenkins will drop me, and my cousin is expecting to see me shine.”
“I suppose, if the worst happened and you did get dropped, you could always invite your cousin to see you play in a Charlton match,” Roddy suggested.
Marek looked at him in horror. “I couldn’t do that!” he said. “I’d be playing in the wrong position. I can’t let him see me being a goalkeeper!”
“Why not?” asked Jimmy.
Marek sat up and took a deep breath. “When I was very young, my father took me to watch Poland play,” he told them. “My hero had always been Maciej Zurawski. He had a great game, and afterwards I went round to the players’ entrance so I could ask for his autograph.”
“I’ve done that at Villa Park,” said Jimmy.
Marek glared at him, and Jimmy fell silent. Zurawski was so kind to me,” continued Marek. “He stopped to talk, and asked me what my ambition was. When I admitted that I wanted to be a striker like him, he said I could be if I wanted to. If I tried hard enough.” Marek looked seriously at his friends. “I believed him. And I still believe him. All my family have known of my ambition for years. What would they think if my cousin tells them that he saw me not scoring for my side, but sprawled in the mud, trying to save goals instead?” And with that, Marek got out of bed and stomped moodily from the room.
Roddy watched him go and then whistled. “Phew,” he said. “That boy has a big problem, doesn’t he? Why does it matter what position he plays in? He’s turning out to be a great all-rounder. He’s really lucky.”
“I’d love to be more of an all-rounder,” Jimmy agreed. “But it might be really confusing. I mean, what if you forgot you weren’t playing in goal and put your hand up for the ball?”
“Some players do change positions,” said Roddy, putting his wash bag and towel away. “Peter Schmeichel started out as a striker, then he went on to become one of the best keepers in the world. Loads of people move around the pitch while they’re learning, it gives them a better knowledge of the game. You get to know all the tricks of the people you’ll be up against, and what they’re likely to do.”
Marek reappeared and climbed wordlessly into bed. Then Mr Clutterbuck poked his head round the door to check they were all ready to go to sleep.
“Night, lads,” he said, turning off the light.
Roddy let Mr Clutterbuck’s footsteps fade away down the corridor before he spoke. “We’ve got a tough match against Moore on Saturday, but we can do it. Charlton for ever!”
“Charlton for ever,” came the mumbled reply.
7. A Difficult Time
The term was moving on. Four weeks had already passed, but there was a lot to look forward to. The match against Leeds was looming large on the horizon, and provided a target for everyone to work towards.
Today, however, all thoughts were on the House Cup. Charlton first years were playing Moore in the afternoon.
After morning training, it was IT, one of Roddy’s least favourite subjects. However, Mr Davies, the teacher, tried to make the lesson interesting by giving them a football-related exercise to do.
“You’re all chairmen of your favourite clubs,” he told them, writing busily on the whiteboard. “We’re going to look at how you can use spreadsheets to keep track of your budget. Now, let’s have a few ideas of things you’ll need to buy.”
The suggestions were quick to come, and Roddy was enjoying himself.
“Players!” was the first suggestion.
“Staff. Maintenance. Electricity?”
“Good,” said Mr Davies. “And how are you going to get money in to pay for all this?”
“Tickets!”
“Sponsorship!”
“TV money!”
Soon Mr Davies had introduced the class to simple spreadsheets, and they had a long list of items to budget for. This wasn’t quite so much fun, and Roddy’s head started to spin. He glanced out of the window, and saw a class of older students out on one of the practice pitches, playing a match. He wished he were there, too, instead of stuck indoors with a load of figures.
And Jones has the ball at his feet. He’s surrounded by players much older and stronger than him, but his magical skills are letting him run rings around them all. He beats one man … two … three, and he’s one on one with the keeper. Roddy Jones draws back his foot to shoot and…
“Roddy Jones!”
Roddy jumped, and turned away from the window.
“If I catch you daydreaming again, I’ll dock you some house points,” Mr Davies threatened.
Roddy saw several Charltonites glaring, and he gave them an apologetic grin. He focussed on the spreadsheet again, but however hard he tried, he just couldn’t get his budget to balance. To raise enough money, he’d have to sell his best player, but if he did that he might not get so many people in to watch the matches, and then his income would go down, and he’d be broke again, with a weaker team as well. Roddy groaned. Whatever he did with his life, he must remember never to take on the job of chairman of a football club!
After lunch, it was a relief to get outside for the match. A cold wind was sweeping across the field, but even so, lots of students had turned out to watch.
Keira assembled her team for a pre-match pep talk. “We need to play our best attacking game to have a chance of winning,” she reminded them. “Moore are strong in every position and we can’t win by sitting back and defending. We learned that against Stiles.
It’s far better to draw 4–4 than lose 1–0. Football’s about scoring goals, not worrying so much about conceding that you never attack. And with Marcel Temperley and Tom Larsson both out of the picture, neither team is playing their first-choice keeper. So just enjoy yourselves and get stuck in.”
Today’s match between Moore and Charlton is being played in blustery conditions, and we may have rain later. Dvorski is in goal again for Charlton. After his recent heroics against Stiles, the new goalie may not be the weak spot Moore were hoping to exploit. The Polish striker has proved a very capable stand-in keeper, and Moore need to take him seriously. Charlton are short of options up front, however, and Perotti’s going to need plenty of support from midfield if he wants to crack the Moore defence. Brett Wilson is standing in for the injured Tom Larsson as goalie, and no doubt the imposing American will be trying to stake a permanent claim to the number-one shirt.
Moore kick off, and play the ball around in their own half as they settle into the game. The Charlton attackers are hustling them, and trying to force an error. McInnes, in the Moore defence, passes back to the goalie, but there’s not enough weight on the pass and it’s left stranded. Perotti gets there first. He takes it round the goalie and places the ball in the open net. Wilson has his head in his hands. Charlton have scored an early goal on the break.
Geno couldn’t celebrate for long. There was still plenty of time for Moore to come back into the game.
“Good work,” encouraged Keira. “You forced the mistake, but they won’t roll over for us. We must keep up the effort.”
Charlton have taken an early lead, but Moore are starting to look like the stronger team. Dvors
ki makes a top-class save to deny the Moore striker Finnigan, and is applauded by the supporters. He rolls the ball out to Jess Ponting, the left full-back, who passes it back inside to Mbeki. Mbeki plays it up to Sanders, whose pass to Eboni Nagel is intercepted. Moore are sweeping forward now, and Charlton are in trouble. Finnigan shoots, and although Dvorski gets a hand to it, the rebound is bundled in by Bullard. It was a scrappy goal, but they all count. Moore are back on level terms!
Marek looked disgusted, but Keira told him not to worry. “We’ll score another one, just you wait. You’re doing brilliantly.”
Half-time is approaching, and these two teams are very evenly matched. The whistle blows, and the teams get a few minutes rest from this nail-biting contest.
“Good effort so far,” said Sam, once they were all gathered in the team-talk room. “A draw wouldn’t be a bad result today, but I think you can win. Keep trying to hit them on the counterattack without exposing yourselves. Marek, you’re working extremely hard. Keep it up. If we can score another goal, that should do the trick. They won’t get any past you.”
The teams return to the field, and Charlton kick off. Jones and Sanders are taking up more advanced positions this half. Charlton look to be going all out for the win here. Moore will struggle to contain Charlton’s attacking flair, but it could be dangerous if Charlton leave their defence exposed too often.
Sanders picks up the ball from a Moore goal kick, and feeds it to Jones. Jones plays it back to Sanders, who moves further up the field. Perotti drops deep to get involved with the move, and slowly but surely the ball is moved towards the Moore goal. This is great play from Charlton, but it needs an end result. The Moore defence are holding firm, and in the end Sanders chances a long shot. It’s on target, but the Moore goalie makes a comfortable save. Charlton rush back to their own half to defend again, and the keeper hits it long, into the path of the Moore left winger. This is real end-to-end stuff.
Moore are on the offensive now, and Dvorski is forced to make another good save, tipping a fierce shot from Bullard behind for a corner. Charlton have everyone back in their own area apart from Perotti and, as the ball comes in, Piper gets his head to it. The Charlton attack stream down the pitch. Mbeki knocks it ahead of Jones, who catches up to the ball on the halfway line. He sees the Moore keeper off his line, and tries an audacious long chip. The keeper is back-pedalling frantically, and everyone else is just standing and watching. The ball seems to arc in slow motion, dropping towards the goal. The keeper isn’t going to make it in time, but neither is the ball. It bounces off the crossbar and into the relieved arms of the goalie. That’s unlucky. Jones is denied a spectacular goal!
On the Spot Page 3
