Can Ponies Take Penalties?

by Helena Pielichaty

  “Southfields again?”

  “Yep.”

  “Not the Grove Belles, then?” I asked. The Grove Belles were the best team around.

  Hannah shook her head. “Not you as well! That’s the first thing they asked me at training. Why is everyone so fixated with the Grove Belles?”

  “Because it’d be like playing Manchester United or Arsenal Ladies,” I said, repeating what I knew from Megan.

  “That’s what they’d like you to think,” Hannah replied. She shook her head. “All Katie and I want from today is for you to have fun. That’s what it’s about at this level.”

  We arrived at Ashtonby Sports Club at about half-past nine. It was a huge complex, much bigger than Lornton FC. It was modern, too, with a brightly painted clubhouse that had a swimming pool and a gym besides all the surrounding lush playing fields. “See what I meant about them having the facilities?” Hannah asked.

  “Oh yes.”

  Hannah had arranged to meet everybody by the drinks machine in the main entrance. It was teeming with people. There was such a buzz! Katie was there, as were Tabinda with her parents and Nika with hers. Holly and her dad came next, followed by Amy with her mum. Amy’s mum stood out, not only because she had so much make-up on but also because she had this loud voice that carried across everybody’s heads. “Oh, isn’t this sooo sweet? Don’t they all look adorable in their little kits?”

  Gemma and Lucy arrived together, and finally Megan and Jenny-Jane. My heart was beating like mad in anticipation. I didn’t have a clue how Megan was going to react to seeing me. It had been over a week since we’d fallen out.

  Mrs Fawcett waved to me, and my cheeks turned pink as I waved back – but Megan didn’t glance my way once. Not once! Jenny-Jane’s eyes flicked over me, but she didn’t say anything either, she just followed Megan to the far side of the drinks machine, out of my line of vision. I felt wobbly then. So we still weren’t talking, and Megan still didn’t want to be friends. At that moment, if I could have, I’d have turned round and gone straight home.

  “OK, gang? Are we all here?” Hannah asked.

  “All except the twins,” Holly said in her exasperated way.

  “There’s time yet. Go and get changed, then meet me out on the field.”

  15

  Before we began, all the teams gathered around a podium in the middle of the playing fields. Two men in tracksuits and a woman in a sun-dress were standing behind a table on which were displayed a gold-coloured trophy and a box full of medals. The woman in the sun-dress said she was a town councillor and the two men were managers of Ashtonby Sports Club. The woman welcomed us and went on about how wonderful it was to see so many girls playing football now and how we were giving the boys a run for their money. “Especially at international level!”

  Then she handed the mike over to one of the club managers, who didn’t look too impressed by her comments but who said the same thing as Hannah had, that no matter who won this “fabulous trophy” this afternoon, it was meant to be a fun occasion – and he pointed out the bouncy castle and ice-cream van and assorted stalls to prove it. “… So if the coaches would like to lead their teams to their allotted pitches, we’ll begin this year’s Girls’ Summer Football Tournament…”

  All the parents and visitors clapped and all the players cheered. Holly and Nika linked their arms through mine. It felt so strange not linking with Megan, but I smiled gratefully at them. I didn’t know if they knew something was wrong between me and Megan – they didn’t say anything – but whether they did or not it was nice to cross the field with someone.

  We threw our water bottles in a heap by the far touchline and then followed Hannah as she led us though our warm-ups. Across from us, Southfields, in pale blue shirts and deep blue shorts, were doing the same, but without much enthusiasm. Their coach was talking to another woman next to her, not really concentrating. Still, that didn’t count for anything. Hannah had told us not to go in thinking we’d win just because we had the last time. “We were both new then. They’ve had as much time to improve as we have.”

  I took up my position at the back, butterflies battering my stomach. I tried not to think about Megan behind me. “You’re here now. You might as well have fun and enjoy it!” I ordered myself as the ref blew her whistle.

  I’m going to cut to the chase here. Southfields may have had time to improve, but if they had it didn’t show. Their headless-chicken impersonations were excellent. We were five–nil up by half-time. I didn’t have to do much in defence except watch. To be honest, I was more bothered about having Megan behind me than about having Southfields in front of me. It really freaked me out not being able to turn round and give her a reassuring thumbs-up every time we scored. “Played, girls!” Hannah called as we ran off. “Make sure you have plenty of water.”

  We only had a minute and then it was time to swap round. Hannah took me, Holly and Eve off and replaced us with Lucy, Jenny-Jane and Amy. I didn’t mind – swapping over was what we expected.

  It wasn’t long before we scored again. Nika scored first, followed by another goal from Gemma and another from Nika. And another. And another. I think even Amy got one.

  “I feel sorry for Southfields,” I said, seeing how dejected they looked.

  “I feel sorry for Megan. She looks fed up,” Eve replied.

  “She’s well bored,” Holly said.

  “I dunno. I mean, I know she gets nervous but she’s quieter than usual. Is something wrong with her, Petra?” Eve asked me.

  “No idea.” I shrugged, keeping my eyes on the play, where they belonged.

  We won eleven–nil in the end. We waited until Southfields had moved out of earshot before whooping and hugging each other.

  “Girls, you played really well,” Hannah congratulated us.

  “Outstanding!” Katie nodded.

  Hannah drew us closer. “But this next one will test you. Tembridge are pretty solid. Meggo, you’ll need to be on your guard. Full beam ahead.”

  “I’ll try,” Megan said in a quiet voice.

  I couldn’t help but look across at her. Megan never gave timid responses – ever. She had her head down, plucking at the grass, so she didn’t see me staring. Jenny-Jane did, though. For once she had her fringe pulled off her face with a hairband and I saw her forehead furrow. I looked away quickly.

  16

  We had about fifteen minutes’ recovery time before the second match started. Katie took us to one side, and we practised passing and turning with the ball for half the time and mingled with parents the rest of it. I felt a bit left out then. I knew I wasn’t the only one without parents there, but it would have been nice to go and stand with Dad or Charlotte or Mum and have a chat. I rummaged in my bag and checked my mobile, in case Charlotte had sent a text, but there was nothing in my inbox. I sent her one instead, telling her our score. HOW BOUT U? I asked. HAV U SLIPPED OFF BB YET? By the time I’d done that, our next team, the Tembridge Vixens, in black and white striped shirts and black shorts, had arrived.

  Katie read out the squad names to start. Even though the twins still hadn’t turned up, I wasn’t selected.

  We had a different referee this time, a stern-faced woman with a nose stud, wearing an Ashtonby FC tracksuit. She blew the whistle and we were off. Match two already!

  The Vixens won the toss and kicked off. They were good! No headless chickens in sight.

  I noticed how they kept the ball close to their feet and seemed to know where each of their team-mates would be when they passed. The action was in our half mostly and we were soon two–nil down. For the first goal Megan went the wrong way, and for the second, though she blocked the shot with her hands, the ball rebounded straight at a nearby Vixen’s foot. Megan’d be really annoyed with herself for the second one, I knew. Not that I was bothered. I just knew she would be, that was all.

  At half-time Hannah told everyone not to worry. “You’re doing really well – two goals down against this team is no disgrace! Just
make sure you all mark up and take every opportunity that comes. Right…” She looked down at her notepad. “Gemma, you go on for JJ; Tabs, you go on for Holly; Petra…” She paused and then glanced across at Megan for some reason. “Petra, I’m going to try you up front instead of Eve. OK?”

  I shrugged, pretending I hadn’t noticed the funny look. “Sure,” I said.

  I’d never played up front before. Eve had to point out where I should stand. “Next to that number 3. Watch her; she really sticks to you.”

  “Thanks,” I said, and took a deep breath.

  We kicked off. The Vixens were quick to mark up but we managed to keep possession for a while, especially as Gemma and Tabinda were now in the middle. Gemma surprised the girl marking her, and me watching her, by doing this step-over thing with the ball, and then kind of sliding it across with the outside of her foot to Tabinda. I didn’t remember doing those during training!

  I felt my heart thumping as I backed closer to the goal in case Tabinda passed to me, but she didn’t – or rather, couldn’t. She was bundled off the ball before she could do anything. Hannah shouted “Ref!” but the nose-stud lady didn’t blow for a foul or anything. Tabinda shrugged, threw her plaits behind her shoulders and ran back towards the action.

  The next second I saw the ball fly just over our crossbar and heard the crowd let out a loud “Oooh!” at the near miss. Megan took the goal kick, but she seemed to direct it to nowhere in particular and it went straight out of play near the halfway line. Her nerves must be really bad for her to do that, I thought; either that or she was tired from staying up half the night chatting and giggling with Jenny-Jane. Bet that was it. Bet you anything.

  I swallowed hard and focused on the game. The Vixens’ throw-in, quick as anything, found their number 7. She made a run through the middle, but Gemma was there and took the ball off her. It was all so fast it made me dizzy watching.

  In what seemed like no time at all, Gemma was tearing towards me and I thought I’d better do something useful, so I ran towards the goal too. Unfortunately, my marker ran with me and blocked me so well that whichever way I dodged, she was there too. I just couldn’t escape! But it didn’t matter, because Gemma was doing fine on her own. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her take a shot. She was well outside the box, but the ball whizzed straight through a gap in the defence and into the left-hand side of the goal. Yes!

  There was no chance of us not celebrating this one. We all dived on Gemma, rubbing her hair, slapping her back and hugging her to pieces, poor thing! “Quality! Quality!” I heard the Vixens coach, a young guy with a shaved head, say. I turned and saw he was clapping Gemma’s goal and laughing with Hannah and Katie. I didn’t know coaches were so friendly with each other. I thought they were meant to be enemies or something.

  “Nice goal,” my marker said to me.

  “Yeah,” I said. “She’s our best player.”

  “She’s good.”

  I felt proud of Gemma then. It didn’t matter that she was way better than I’d ever be; it just mattered that I was on the same team. “Yes,” I said, “she is.”

  I wish I could say we equalized straight after, but I can’t. In the end it was four–one to them.

  “See you then, Parsnip,” my marker said at the end.

  “You too, Vixen,” I replied.

  “Brilliant, brilliant, brilliant!” Hannah gushed as we gathered round our pile of stuff.

  “Er … we lost!” Lucy reminded her.

  “Course you did! They were second in the league last season. What do you expect?”

  “Second! No wonder they were so good!” Tabinda moaned.

  “Exactly! They’ve been in the league for two seasons and we haven’t even started yet. You guys were fantastic!” Katie told us. “You just kept right at ’em.” Her eyes were shining. “I think we’ve got the makings of something here, don’t you, Miss Preston?”

  Hannah nodded. “I do, Miss Regan, I do.”

  17

  For the third match we had to move pitches.

  “Right,” Hannah said after we’d dumped our stuff in a pile on the edge of the new touchline and had a drink. “What I’ve noticed is you’re not challenging enough. You’re reluctant to get tackles in at the right time – but you’ve got to make that ball yours … so let’s do some work on that. Into fours quickly…”

  For someone who’d told me we were meant to be having fun, Hannah was taking each match very seriously, I thought as I hurriedly attached myself to Lucy, Tabinda and Eve in case I somehow ended up with Megan. Luckily Megan and JJ didn’t join in with us, so I needn’t have panicked. Katie took them across to one of the goals, further away from us. I didn’t know what they were doing. It was none of my business.

  I didn’t play at all against the Misslecott Goldstars. I was a bit surprised not to be put on in the second half (we were two-all), but I didn’t mind too much. Apart from Megan in goal, Hannah was swapping and changing us round all the time. Maybe I’d been on more than some of the others, I didn’t know. I just concentrated on the game.

  The Goldstars weren’t totally inexperienced like Southfields and they weren’t dead good like the Vixens. The ball went up and down and off and on the pitch like a wasp stuck in a jar, with most of the action in the middle. Final score? We drew three-all. I can’t tell you what their goals were like, because I wasn’t looking that end. Ours were from a corner taken by Nika and scored by Gemma, and two from the box tapped in by Eve.

  “What happens now?” I asked Lucy when the final whistle blew.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “We need to check out the table.”

  The table, a huge whiteboard on wheels parked near the podium, had all the match results mapped out.

  The results for our group looked like this:

  We all silently scrutinized the results for a few moments, taking in all the information.

  I concentrated on the table. It was still in alphabetical order rather than points order.

  The Vixens had won every match so they automatically went through, but Misslecott Goldstars and us were on the same points. “It’s down to goal difference,” I heard Megan say, her voice trembling.

  “Yep,” Hannah said, patting her shoulder, “good old goal difference.”

  “We’ve got five more than them,” I pointed out before anyone else did. I’m in maths club – I’m quick at spotting these things. “We go through!”

  Everyone cheered except Megan, who gave me a sideways glance but didn’t say anything. As everyone chatted, I cleared my throat a few times and focused on my boots, trying to pretend it didn’t bother me. If this was how it was going to be from now on, then I’d better get used to it.

  Katie began telling us what a real achievement it was that we’d made it to the semifinals: “Especially considering how new we are and how widespread our age range is!”

  “Who’re we playing next?” Lucy asked.

  “Looks like you all got your wish!” Hannah said, tapping the adjoining sheet of results.

  “Not the Grove Belles?” Eve gasped.

  “Oh yeah! Who else?”

  The Grove Belles. Manchester United and Arsenal Ladies in one. The team who’d been top of the Nettie Honeyball League every year since it began (2001). The team who’d won the Nettie Honeyball Cup every year since the Nettie Honeyball Cup began (2002). Those Grove Belles.

  “Cool,” said Lucy.

  18

  We had three-quarters of an hour’s break this time. The tension was mounting; you could feel it in the warm summer air. We did a few drills, but mainly we were allowed to wander around, go to the loo, have a snack and relax. Amy chose to sunbathe on the blanket her mum had brought.

  Of course normally I’d have been with Megan, but now that wasn’t an option, so instead I kind of hovered on the edge of different groups. Once again I noticed that Megan and Jenny-Jane went off by themselves. So chummy. The heavy-pastry feeling kept coming back but I tried to ignore it by asking everyb
ody loads of questions. I found out that Holly was going on holiday to Florida straight after the tournament, and that both of Eve’s brothers were at Leicester City’s summer school this week, and that Lucy’s brother had been grounded – but she didn’t say why.

  All too soon it was time for the semifinal. The crowd had grown – the lady in the sun-dress came to watch, along with a few other parents and girls in their kits from teams I didn’t recognize but supposed had been knocked out.

  “I don’t like it,” Holly said to me, “so many people watching.”

  “I do!” Amy beamed. “It’s good practice for when I’m on the catwalk.”

  I wasn’t sure how I felt. I definitely had butterflies in my stomach now instead of pastry, but they weren’t doing crazy somersaults or anything. I felt – I don’t know – apart from it all … as if I was there but not there.

  Hannah and Katie gathered us round for a group huddle. We waited for Hannah’s words of wisdom. “Just go out there and be awesome,” she said.

  We all looked at her. Was that it?

  As if she’d read our minds, Katie said, “Just do your best.”

  The scrum dissolved and we were told our positions. Again, I was a sub. Unfortunately, so was Jenny-Jane. I stood as far away from her as I could, but for every sideways step I took, she took one too, though neither of us spoke. She was probably as awestruck as I was when the Grove Belles took their positions.

  I could tell straight away that the Belles were in a different league from the other teams we’d played. The way they walked onto the pitch and took up their positions without fuss, as if they’d done it a thousand times before. The way they seemed to radiate light from their all-white (and still super-clean) kit. The way they began by either jumping up and down on the spot or twisting their hips from side to side, as if raring to go. The way they shouted out to each other: “Play up, Belles!” and “On your toes, people!” It was intimidating.