Football High: Fire Up

by Patrick Loughlin

  I know I should follow Bazzo to class. I know this can’t possibly end well. But after my run-in with Grace and with everyone still acting weird around me after all the media attention, I really don’t feel like going to Maths.

  ‘I’m in,’ I say. ‘What’s the plan?’

  I follow Lexi to the back steps of the auditorium and we find a spot at the bottom. It’s out of view from the class buildings as it faces the fields so we should be fairly safe here.

  ‘The beautiful thing is that we’ve got the whole place to ourselves,’ says Lexi, and she smiles at me knowingly.

  It makes me feel a tad uncomfortable so I stand up again and look out at the sparkling green sea of grass. It’s a beautiful morning. Way too beautiful to be inside doing quadratic equations. Yep, this was a good idea.

  ‘Um … So what now?’ I ask, turning back to Lexi and forcing a smile.

  Lexi shrugs. ‘Get to know each other better.’ She pats the spot next to her on the step and I sit down again. ‘So … Tell me a bit about yourself, Nick. What do you like about me?’ she jokes.

  I laugh. ‘Well, not your skills as a lab partner, that’s for sure.’

  ‘Hey, I resent that comment.’

  ‘Ahhh, but do you deny it?’

  ‘Well, no.’ She smiles and I realise she’s quite pretty. There’s a long silence. She smiles again. ‘School’s stupid, anyway. Who needs it? Once I go pro, I’m never doing Maths again,’ she says.

  ‘Go pro? You mean, professional football?’ I ask. ‘I thought the women’s pay for football was terrible.’

  ‘Maybe here, but there are always overseas clubs,’ she says, her eyes catching fire. ‘Don’t you want to play in Europe like your dad?’

  I give her one of my patented Nick Young shrugs. ‘Maybe,’ I say finally. ‘If I don’t get dropped from the rep team …’

  ‘What? Why would they drop you? You’re amazing!’

  ‘Not lately. I’m not sure I can really compete with guys like Kane.’

  ‘Forget about Kane,’ says Lexi. ‘He’s just jealous of you and your dad.’ She inches closer to me until our shoulders are lightly touching but all I can think about now is Grace. Guilt is filling up my heart like wobbly, lime-green jelly. I really want to find her and apologise for what I said. I wonder what she’s doing right now. Working hard in class no doubt, like I should be.

  Maybe it’s not too late to go to Maths …

  ‘And what do you two think you’re up to?’ booms a voice from behind us.

  Dang! It’s too late!

  My guilt-ridden jelly heart leaps out of my chest and makes a break for it, leaving Lexi and me to turn and face Principal Vale. She looks as mad as … well, as mad as a principal who just caught two students jigging class.

  I’m thinking this trip to her office might be a little shorter and a lot more painful than my last one. Another fine mess I’ve got myself into. Bravo, Nick Young, bravo.

  A Half-Hour of Intense Principal

  Interrogation and a Phone Call Home

  Later …

  ‘Skipping class, Nick? What were you thinking?’ says Mum, as Garth drives us home in his clattering old Datsun.

  I want to tell Mum that I obviously wasn’t thinking but she hasn’t finished.

  ‘Do you know how embarrassing it is to be called up at work and told to come and pick up your son from school? And poor Garth had to drive me.’

  ‘Well, maybe if we could afford our own car he wouldn’t have to.’ I know I’m way out of line but I’m angry, too. Being interrogated in Ms Vale’s office was the worst. Mostly because of how guilty she made me feel.

  I gave you a chance, Nick, and you’ve let me down. You’ve let your mum down, too, but most of all you’ve let yourself down.

  ‘Don’t get smart with me, Nick,’ says Mum, snapping me back to the reality of Garth’s sickly mode of transport. ‘And who’s this girl you were with, anyway? She doesn’t sound like the sort of student you should get mixed up with.’

  ‘Her name’s Lexi and she’s okay,’ I mumble.

  ‘At least he’s making friends,’ says Garth.

  Mum shoots Garth a killer stare.

  ‘Okay, I’m just gonna shut up and focus on driving.’

  ‘I think you’re very lucky to only be getting a suspension,’ says Mum. ‘Ms Vale could have taken your scholarship away on the spot, especially after you had that argument with that boy over that thing in the newspaper. Thanks for letting Ms Vale spring that one on me, by the way! But you heard what she said, Nick. Pull something like this again and you’re out.’

  I decide it’s best to just stay quiet now and cop Mum’s rant. It lasts half the way home until Mum finally loses steam and stops talking mid-sentence. The silence, though, is much worse than her yelling. By the time we get home, I’m feeling terrible. I realise the person I’m really angry with is me. What was I thinking?

  We hop out of the car and Garth gives me a little wave and mouths ‘Good luck’.

  I nod. The walk towards the front door feels like a funeral procession. As Mum searches her handbag for the key, I summon up some courage. ‘Sorry, Mum,’ I squeak.

  Mum turns around and looks at me for a moment. Then she shakes her head and walks inside.

  That’s when I know I’ve really stuffed up this time.

  So I do what I always do when I’m angry or sad or happy or bored or lonely or just feeling nothing at all. I head outside and kick a football. What I don’t realise is that while I’m taking out my frustrations on my battered old Umbro, there is a ripple effect taking place.

  Ripple Effect Number One

  Thornberry Station

  Week Six: Thursday Morning

  ‘You?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Kristy?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘You like Kristy?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘When did this happen?’ I ask Bazzo, as we walk from the station to school.

  ‘While you were suspended,’ says Bazzo.

  ‘But isn’t Kristy a bit … scary?’

  ‘What? No!’ says Bazzo defensively. ‘She’s just really passionate about things. It’s what I like about her. We’re very similar.’

  ‘You’re passionate? What are you passionate about?’ I ask.

  ‘AC Milan, Chelsea, Western Sydney Wanderers, Leo Messi’s amazing running style and hot chips in the afternoon. Oh, and meatlovers pizza!’

  Clearly I can’t argue with any of that. And I’m really not that surprised, given how well they seem to have been getting on lately.

  ‘So, you really like Kristy?’ I ask, just to be sure.

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Are you going to ask her out?’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Boy,’ I say.

  ‘No, giiirrrl,’ says Bazzo.

  We both laugh but I can’t help feeling a little worried. Does this mean Bazzo is going to want to hang around with Kristy all the time now, instead of with me?

  Ripple Effect Number Two

  NSF Campus

  Week Six: Thursday Recess

  ‘So you and Lexi, hey?’

  I turn around with a mouthful of half-eaten banana still in my mouth and see Grace standing in front of me. Today her eyes are brown.

  ‘Mmmwhat?’

  ‘I heard about you and Lexi. That’s great. I’m really happy for you,’ she says.

  She clearly is not happy.

  ‘Lexi? No. I mean, it’s not like that …’ I try to explain, pushing the banana to one side of my mouth.

  ‘Anyway, that’s all I wanted to say,’ Grace says, and she walks off before I can even swallow.

  I want to chase after her and explain. I want to say sorry and tell her that I don’t like Lexi, I like her, and I want to say sorry for calling her a nerd before, but I stand there and watch her go, just like before.

  The next thing I know, Lexi is standing beside me.

  ‘What was that all about?’ she asks.

&n
bsp; ‘You. Me. Us. Apparently people think we’re a couple now.’

  ‘Oh. Yeah, I’ve been getting that too,’ she says. ‘It’s pretty funny, really.’

  ‘I’m glad you find it funny.’

  ‘Well, not that funny. My parents are filthy that I’ve been caught jigging again, especially after last year.’

  ‘Again? You never told me you got caught last year!’

  ‘Well, yeah … I usually get caught.’ She says it like she’s stating the obvious. ‘They’ve taken away my phone as punishment and banned me from talking to you. They think you’re a bad influence on me.’

  ‘I’m the bad influence?’

  ‘Why do you keep repeating everything I say? Anyway, my dad said that if I don’t shape up and improve, he’ll pull me out of here and put me in a boarding school! There’s no way I’m leaving here. I love it. So I just thought I’d let you know that I can’t really talk to you anymore. Sorry.’

  ‘Oh,’ I say with a pang of disappointment. Suddenly I’m confused. I thought I liked Grace but I like Lexi too. She’s fun and easy to talk to. I don’t want both of them ignoring me.

  I watch Lexi walk away and realise that I still have a lump of banana in my cheek. I swallow it down. It tastes terrible.

  Ripple Effect Number Three

  NSF Bus Bay. Day of State Cup

  Round Three: NSF Cannons vs

  Weatherly Park High

  Week Six: Thursday Afternoon

  ‘You mean I can’t play at all?’ I ask as I watch the rest of the girls and boys in the rep teams climb aboard the school bus in their bright-red Cannons shirts.

  Jase looks at me with a mix of pity and disappointment. ‘Sorry, Nick. Ms Vale was very clear. If you’re suspended, you don’t play on the team that week.’

  ‘Please, Jase, you’ve gotta let me play!’ I beg.

  ‘No, Nick, I don’t,’ says Jase sternly.

  It’s the first time I’ve heard Jase sound angry. He sounds like … like a teacher.

  ‘Well, can I at least come and watch?’ I ask.

  ‘No. You have to go to non-sport in the library,’ says Jase.

  Non-sport? That’s where all the injured kids who can’t do Thursday afternoon sport go. You sit there and do private study for two hours. It sounds like torture.

  I try to think of something I can say that will convince Jase to let me on the team bus but nothing comes. So I just stand there and watch as Jase counts the last of the team and then hops onto the bus.

  Mr Antonelli walks past me with his clipboard and a bag of practice balls. He looks at me for a moment and then shakes his head. ‘Silly, number ten, very silly,’ he says, then he climbs aboard.

  The bus pulls away and I see Bazzo and Kristy sitting together towards the back. They’re laughing at something. I think about waving but don’t. They’re not looking, anyway.

  Then the bus is gone and I’m left standing alone in the bus bay, dressed in my Cannons strip, with no game to play.

  I hate the ripple effect.

  NSF Library

  A Bit Later …

  Hideous monster! Ugly creature! You are an ogre. Let me go, or I will tell my papa.

  As I sit reading Frankenstein in the library among the few kids not out playing sport – including Lexi, who’s sitting a few tables away, pretending to read her History textbook and clearly struggling with the whole concept of silent study – I suddenly realise that all this time I’ve had it wrong. The monster in Frankenstein isn’t really a monster at all. I mean, he’s ugly and he does do some pretty monstrous stuff, but underneath the sewn-together bits and pieces of dead people, he’s really just a sad, lonely guy. All he wants is to be loved and accepted but everyone rejects him because he’s so hideous. Then when he goes back to Victor to ask him to make him a companion so he doesn’t have to live alone, Victor refuses. No wonder he takes his revenge. All he wants is the same thing that everyone wants.

  It doesn’t sound so unreasonable when you hear the monster’s side of the story. In fact, Victor sounds more like the monster. I can’t believe I got it so wrong.

  I start to wonder what else I’ve been wrong about. And who else. I was wrong about Grace. Maybe I’ve been wrong about a lot of things.

  ‘Hey, whatcha reading?’ whispers Lexi. She’s finally had enough of her History book and has snuck over to the table behind me.

  ‘I thought you weren’t allowed to talk to me because I’m a bad influence,’ I whisper back without turning around.

  ‘Well, I don’t tend to follow my parents’ wishes that often. Besides, I’m really, really bored. Everything in this book is soooo old.’

  I snort a blast of laughter at Lexi’s comment and the librarian looks up from her desk, glares, then looks back down.

  ‘Hey Lexi …’ I whisper softly, trying to avoid the wrath of the librarian’s glare. ‘What did you mean the other day when you said that Kane was jealous of me and my dad?’

  ‘Hey? Oh … Well, just that even though you don’t really see your dad, you know who he is. Everyone knows who he is. He’s awesome.’

  Lexi’s admiration for my dad doesn’t seem to have dimmed at all, despite the scandalous headlines of the last few weeks. But even though it’s faded from the headlines and Lexi’s mind, my own dad not recognising me hadn’t faded from mine.

  ‘He’s not that awesome at remembering his son,’ I say.

  Lexi frowns in sympathy. ‘Well, that’s my point. Your dad might not know you, but at least you know him. Kane doesn’t.’

  ‘Doesn’t what?’ I ask.

  ‘Know who his dad is.’

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘He told me,’ says Lexi.

  But before I can ask when and where and how, the bell rings and we’re hurriedly ushered out of the library by the librarian.

  ‘Mum’s picking me up. Gotta go,’ says Lexi as soon as we’re outside, and again I’m left alone.

  As I walk out the gate, I glance over at the bus bay. There’s no school bus, which means the rep teams aren’t back yet, so I walk to the train station alone.

  The whole way home, I wonder two things:

  Did the team win the game, or did we get knocked out of the State Cup?

  Was Kane the monster I thought he was, or just a lonely kid without his dad, like me?

  I don’t have to wait long to find out the answer to my first question. I receive a message from Bazzo the moment I walk in the front door.

  Hey Nicky poo bum. We won! 1–0 Kane got red card. Out for next game

  I can’t believe what I’m reading, that we’re still alive in the State Cup but Kane, our best player, won’t be playing in the final crucial pool game. I knew he’d already received a few yellow cards because of his aggressive style of play, but I didn’t think he’d end up on a red. Suddenly I feel terrible. Before talking to Lexi, I probably would have been glad to see Kane carded. Now I feel sorry for him. Playing is everything for Kane. He would be devastated to be out for our next match.

  And I’m worried as well. How is our team going to win without him?

  NSF Fields

  Week Eight: Tuesday

  ‘So just how good are these Angelos guys, anyway?’ asks Marcus as we run through another set of tackling drills. We’ve been at it for almost an hour already and my legs feel like jelly. This week we’re up against St Angelos, North Shore, another private school with a big reputation for football. It’s still do or die, but with every game the pressure to avoid being knocked out of the comp is increasing. So is the quality of the opposition.

  ‘They’re good. Very good,’ says Jase. ‘They have a long, successful history in the State Cup. They’ve won eight state championships and they made last year’s final. They’re going to be tough to beat, especially …’

  Jase doesn’t finish his sentence, but everyone knows what he was about to say: ‘especially without our star striker, Kane Kruger’. Because our attack won’t be as strong, Jase and Mr Antonelli have work
ed us mercilessly on defence all session, particularly the back four and Bull Ant in goal. But the big surprise is the way Kane and I have worked together inventing some set plays so Elvis and I can break through the St Angelos’ fortress-like defence. I wouldn’t say we’ve become besties in the past two weeks, but we do seem to have put aside our differences. It really didn’t take much in the end. All I said was, ‘It sucks you can’t play, Kane, but you have to help us win this game without you.’

  Kane stared back at me for a moment. I was sure he was going to make some crack about me or my dad and in true Kane style he didn’t disappoint.

  ‘Well, I can’t leave it all up to you, Young, or we’ll have no chance of making the finals.’

  He might have sounded like the Kane I’ve come to loathe but his eyes said something different to his mouth. I could tell he was glad to still be involved. Or maybe it was more than that. Maybe it was because it was coming from me.

  But the truth was I was really worried, especially after Mr Antonelli gave us a detailed rundown of our opponents.

  ‘They play in true Italian style,’ explained Mr Antonelli at the start of the training session. ‘Catenaccio – the door bolt,’ he says, making a locking gesture with his hands. ‘Boring and unpopular these days but very effective. Man-on-man defence, usually with two lines and an extra sweeper roaming around the goal to shut down the striker. So we need to make you all lock pickers. We need to go Dutch: Total Football!’

  According to Mr Antonelli, Total Football is all about keeping the opposition guessing by switching up positions and working together to constantly press forward. It was made famous by the Dutch in the 1970s to counter the Italian Catenaccio style of the 1960s. It’s a bit like the false-nine strategy but instead of just one person moving around, we all do. It also means we don’t have to rely on just one striker, who might easily be shut down by the St Angelos sweeper.

  The big drawback of Total Football is that, with all that running around, it’s exhausting. After a solid hour of training using the Total Football strategy, most of us are flat out, lying on the ground. The other drawback is the risk factor. Instead of total defence, it’s more like total attack, so it leaves us open at the back if one of us fails to fill the space left by players switching positions. That’s why we all have to be on our game.