Football High: Fire Up
Page 7
To be honest, there aren’t many weeknights when I’m not in the backyard of our tiny two-bedroom rented villa, kicking around the old soccer ball. Even after training nights and game days for my soccer team, the Green Hill Rovers, I usually end up back outside kicking the ball around for hours on end. I guess I’m a bit of a football freak.
‘I’ll be practising my own shooting in a minute, Nick, but I won’t be using a soccer ball,’ says Mum. ‘Now get that sheet into the washing machine and clean yourself up for dinner!’
I pull the sheet off the line, sending the pegs flying off into the darkness.
‘Oh, not like that, Nick!’ says Mum in her ‘highly unimpressed and losing all patience’ tone.
‘Sorry,’ I say again. ‘What’s for dinner, anyway?’
‘Lamb shanks,’ says Mum. ‘Hurry up. Garth will be here any minute.’
Oh great. Dinner with Garth.
Garth is Mum’s boyfriend. He’s the office manager of the Human Resources department at Green Hill TAFE where Mum works. I don’t really know exactly what Human Resources is but I do know that it sounds lame and boring. A bit like Garth. To be honest, he’s a bit of a geek, too. He has this long, thin hair that he wears in a ponytail, and little round glasses that make him look as if he’s just stepped out of a time machine from the 1970s.
Garth has been seeing Mum for about six months now, and he’s always trying to impress me by telling really bad jokes and calling me ‘buddy’ and ‘little man’ all the time. I don’t want to be buddies with Garth and I definitely don’t want to be his little man, either, but Mum seems to like him. I can’t remember her ever really having a boyfriend after Dad packed up and moved to England when I was six months old, and I guess Garth’s not too bad. He takes Mum to the movies and to restaurants and sometimes he takes me with them. He even offered to take all of us to Thailand for a holiday but Mum said no because she didn’t want me to miss any of year six.
‘Hey Nick, buddy,’ he says when I enter the dining room after throwing the dirty sheet into the washing machine. ‘High five, my little man.’ He slaps my palm. He doesn’t even realise I’m not really high-fiving him back. ‘How’s my soccer star? Scored any goals lately?’
‘Not really possible – season’s over,’ I say, trying not to sound too sarcastic. Mum’s always telling me to watch my tone with Garth.
‘Oh, right. Of course. You know I’m not that much of a sports guy,’ says Garth, smiling again. ‘I get all my physical vitality from Wing Chun. That’s a special kind of martial arts, you know.’
‘Yeah, you’ve told me that before,’ I say.
Mum throws her trademark eye daggers at me. ‘Set the table please, Nicholas.’
‘I’ll give you a hand, buddy,’ says Garth.
I grab the cutlery from the kitchen drawer and moments later the three of us are sitting at the table enjoying dinner in the usual awkward silence. I don’t mind the silence, actually. But it only lasts for so long before it becomes awkward talking.
‘How about these lamb shanks, Nick?’ says Garth cheerfully. ‘Although I usually like my lamb baaaa-bequed. Hey? Am I right?’
I stare back at Garth blankly.
‘BAAAAA! You know, like a sheep,’ he repeats, then he laughs weirdly at his own joke.
‘He knows, Garth, he’s just being rude,’ interrupts Mum.
‘Oh. Well, maybe it’s those burgeoning teen hormones getting ready to take over, hey? I remember what that was like.’
Get me outta here …
Of course, I wouldn’t have been thinking that way if I’d known that the next thing Garth would say would change my life forever.
‘So, Nick, have you decided on a high school yet?’ asks Garth.
I shrug and try to shovel mashed potato into my mouth a little quicker.
‘Probably just Green Hill High, right Nick?’ says Mum.
‘Well, actually,’ Garth says, ‘I found something in the local paper that might interest you, buddy. Have it right here in the ol’ man purse.’
He reaches into his back pocket and pulls a scrap of crumpled newspaper out of his bulging leather wallet.
‘Check this out,’ he says, spreading the paper out in front of me on the gravy-stained tablecloth.
* * *
Are you a talented young footballer?
If so, we need you at the brand-new National School of Football (NSF).
The NSF has been carefully designed to offer a balanced mix of sports training and secondary education for the football stars of the future. Our new campus features state-of-the-art education and sports-training facilities while our daily program includes up to two hours of high-performance training and coaching, following a strict curriculum designed to challenge and cultivate Australia’s next top players.
We offer opportunities for participation in a range of school-based, local, state and national competitions and tournaments, as well as pathways into professional football. If you have a football dream, the NSF can help you achieve it.
Go to www.nationalschooloffootball.com or call 1300 FOOTBALL for more details.
Your football destiny awaits.
* * *
When I see it, my eyes pop out of my face and my jaw practically hits the table. It’s an ad for a school, but not just any school.
‘Wow. I mean … Wow,’ I say. Suddenly I’m very glad Garth came to dinner.
‘I thought you might be interested. Like I said, I’m not much of a football aficionado, but I know how much you love soccer. And if you have even half the talent of your old man, I think this would be the perfect high school. Am I right?’
‘It sounds amazing, doesn’t it, Mum?’
‘Hmmm. I’m not really sure …’ says Mum.
Right away I can hear the disapproval in her voice. ‘Are you crazy? Mum, this is my dream high school!’
‘No, Nick, I’m not crazy,’ she says, eye daggers at the ready again. ‘This school sounds like it would cost thousands in tuition fees. You know I can’t afford that.’
‘I know someone who could.’
‘That’s not an option. And maybe, Nick, one football star in the family is enough right now.’
‘I though you said that Dad wasn’t part of our family!’
The awkward silence is back again but this time there’s something heavier with it. Mum gets upset when I mention Dad. I think she’s secretly worried I’ll turn out just like him.
Garth coughs nervously and clears his throat. Mum just stares ahead.
It’s Garth again who breaks the silence. ‘Well, they’re offering some scholarships for next year …’
‘What?’
‘It’s on the website. All you need is a recommendation from your club coach, then you fill in the application form and write a letter.’
‘Tony would definitely write a recommendation for me. I’m his best player!’
‘And so modest,’ adds Mum. ‘But do you think it’s going to be that easy, Nick? There must be a thousand clubs out there with kids who could qualify for these scholarships.’
‘What’s it gonna hurt to try?’ I ask. ‘It beats going to boring old Green Hill High without ever knowing if I could have made it.’
‘I just don’t want you to get your hopes up,’ says Mum.
‘Why can’t I get my hopes up?’
The silence returns for a moment, but this time it’s because Garth and I are waiting for an answer.
Finally Mum smiles in defeat. ‘If I said no, would you let that stop you?’
‘Probably not,’ I say.
‘All right, then. Apply for the scholarship.
But don’t count on it. I don’t want to be the one picking up the pieces if you miss out.’
‘Of course,’ I say, but I know it’s too late. As I stare down at the words on the ad, I can’t help thinking about the possibilities.
Your football destiny awaits.
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Version 1.0
Football High: Fire Up
9781925324532
First published by Random House Australia in 2016
Copyright © Patrick Loughlin, 2016
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
A Random House Australia book
Published by Penguin Random House Australia Pty Ltd
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www.penguin.com.au
Addresses for the Penguin Random House group of companies can be found at global.penguinrandomhouse.com/offices.
National Library of Australia
Cataloguing-in-Publication entry
Author: Loughlin, Patrick
Title: Fire Up [electronic resource]
ISBN: 978 1 92532 453 2 (ebook)
Series: Loughlin, Patrick. Football high; 2
Target audience: For primary school age
Subjects: Soccer players – Australia – Juvenile fiction
Soccer stories, Australian
Dewey Number: A823.4
Cover illustration and design by Nahum Ziersch
Ebook by Firstsource