Mr Jenkins looked to his right, where Jason and a girl from the school were waiting. “OK. Girls, you follow Debbie, and boys, go with Jason. Your strips are already in the changing rooms. I’ll see you out on the field in 20 minutes.”
Roddy grabbed his kitbag. His dad had bought him new shin pads with ankle support especially for today. Roddy hoped they’d do the trick and keep his ankle well protected. In the changing room, he took his blue shorts and blue-and-green shirt, and found a space to get changed.
During the guided tour, Roddy had felt quite calm, but as he pulled the shirt over his head, his mouth felt dry. In a few minutes, he would be out there on the practice pitch, doing his best to win a place at this school.
Geno was already changed and, as Roddy finished lacing his boots, his new friend came to stand with him. Geno was looking pale and scared, but there was a determination in his face that Roddy hadn’t noticed before.
“Well,” Roddy said to Geno. “This is it. Good luck.”
“Good luck to you, too,” said Geno, offering his hand. Roddy hadn’t ever shaken hands with a friend before. It felt as if he was crossing some sort of frontier, as if he was growing up in a sudden jerk.
The last boot had been tied, the last shirt put on. Everyone was ready. Roddy and Geno pushed their way out of the changing rooms and onto the pitch. The girls were already there, some standing still and others warming up with stretches or short sprints. They all looked anxious and edgy.
Roddy saw Mr Jenkins approaching and nudged Geno. The players were split up into eight teams of eleven, and Roddy was pleased to have been put with his new friend. The teams had a few minutes to get to know each other and sort out tactics before the matches began. Roddy looked across at their opponents and recognised Keira doing some stretches.
It was a sunny day, but a cool breeze was blowing. The conditions were perfect, and the turf was pretty good, too. Roddy was impressed. For a practice pitch, it was brilliant, better than almost anything he’d played on before. He wouldn’t be able to blame the field if he made a mess of things. But Roddy didn’t feel as if he would make too many mistakes. Now he was kitted up, he felt really positive and itching to go.
Both teams lined up in a standard 4–4–2 formation. Roddy glanced to the touchline and saw Mr Jenkins watching. He told himself to play like he always did, and not to let the nerves show.
The time has come for Jones to show the world what he can do. The ball comes to him early and he looks up to see where his teammates are. An opponent is closing in on him fast, but he skips past him with ease and plays a simple ball out to his right, cutting another opponent out with the precision of his pass. Good solid stuff, but nothing spectacular. He’s going to have to do more than this to impress the selectors.
Roddy’s team lost possession, and he made up a lot of ground to tackle and win back the ball. It was important to show he was hardworking as well as talented, and Roddy was sure he could see Mr Jenkins writing something down in his notebook. Again, under a lot of pressure, he was forced to play a simple pass. Then, just as the ball was knocked back to him, a sliding tackle from an opponent made contact with his injured ankle.
“Ow!” For a few moments Roddy was in agony. He didn’t fall, but he stood bent over for a couple of seconds until the pain faded. He wiped his watering eyes, started to hobble, and then upped his pace to a run. To his relief, the kick didn’t seem to have done any lasting damage, but the ball was way up the field now and he had some real work to do to get back into the game.
Roddy wanted an opportunity to run with the ball, to show what he was really capable of. But most people were being a bit selfish. It was natural to want to show what they could do, but one girl on his team was repeatedly holding onto the ball for too long, and then losing it when she should have gone for an easy pass. Roddy wondered whether he should have a word with her about it, but then something else grabbed his attention.
And it’s Jones with the pass out to the left wing. Richards is running down the touchline, looking to get the cross in, but a horrendous tackle floors her and the ref blows a furious blast on his whistle. Richards isn’t getting up, and appears to be in a lot of pain. Medical staff are rushing onto the pitch. It looks like her part in today’s action is over.
Roddy stared with horror at his team-mate on the ground. She’d been tackled by the boy who had kicked Roddy’s ankle just a few minutes before. Mr Jenkins was already there, speaking urgently to Jason, the ref. After a few moments, Jason jogged away from the scene of the accident and called everyone over.
“Sarah Richards won’t be able to carry on,” he said. “So the game will be halted until she’s off the pitch. You can all take a break.”
“What’s wrong?” gasped Keira, trying to catch her breath.
“We won’t know until the doctor has arrived,” said Jason seriously. “She’s had a bad knock. But you guys don’t worry about it – you need to keep focused on the trial. Use this time to discuss tactics. One team is a player down, and both teams need to work out how they’re going to handle the change.”
Everyone was very subdued, and the atmosphere was even worse when an ambulance arrived. Once the girl was loaded in and the ambulance had left, Jason signalled everyone back onto the pitch. Before they started playing again, Mr Jenkins spoke to everyone.
“That was a nasty accident,” he said. “But you have to try and put it out of your minds and play on as normal. Footballers get injured all the time. The good news is that I’m sure she’s going to be all right. Now, some of you were really impressive before the incident, let’s keep it up!”
The boy responsible for the tackle was taken aside and spoken to, but he was allowed to play on. In spite of the girl’s injury, Roddy thought it was the right decision. The tackle had looked more misjudged than malicious, and with everyone going all out to impress, accidents were almost bound to happen.
The ref signalled that play should resume. The mood had perceptibly altered and, despite Mr Jenkins’s words, everyone was definitely playing with a little less vigour than before.
It could have been me. The words kept echoing round his brain. Roddy told himself to concentrate on the game, but it wasn’t easy.
With their numerical disadvantage, Roddy’s side began to struggle, and shots started to pour in on their keeper, a Swedish boy called Tom Larsson. But Tom played a blinder in goal and, incredibly, they made it to half-time without conceding. Roddy was sure that the tall goalie would get a place at the school, but his own performance so far had been nothing to shout about.
During half-time, there was very little talking, with everyone’s minds still on the horrible accident.
Then Roddy decided to speak up. “We’re a player down, but that doesn’t mean we can’t play well and still win,” he said. “They’ll be pushing for a goal, so let’s aim to get something on the counterattack and make them pay. We can still show the coaches what we can do!”
From the kickoff it was pretty much as Roddy had predicted, with the other team swarming all over their defence, led by Keira, who was running the game for them. She was picking out pass after pass to play to her forwards. Eventually, Roddy’s side managed to hold onto the ball for more than a minute, and he found himself with an opportunity to run at the defence.
Jones is off on one of his mazy dribbles, and look, he’s going past defenders as if they weren’t there, leaving them standing like training dummies! As he reaches the area, he draws back his foot and shoots … but the ball crashes off the inside of the post and spills out into the box. Perotti is there, and pounces on the free ball, sending it scudding into the goal. Geno Perotti has put his side in front against the odds, but the credit surely has to go to Roddy Jones for that scintillating run!
Roddy glanced at the sidelines to see if Mr Jenkins had taken note of his flash of inspiration, but was shocked to see that he wasn’t there! Then he realised that there were three other matches going on, and that there were plenty of other coach
es who would be scouting for him. Still, Roddy wished the junior head coach had seen it for himself. There wasn’t much time left, and with most of it spent helping out the defence, Roddy didn’t have any more chances to shine.
At the end of the match, Roddy and Geno headed for the changing room together.
“So, what do you reckon?” asked Geno.
Roddy shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s impossible to tell how much they noticed. I don’t think Mr Jenkins was even looking when I made that run.”
“It was a good cross you made later on,” said Geno. “And they definitely noticed that. I saw one of the assistants making a note.”
That cheered Roddy up. At least they’d noticed something good that he’d done. “You scored a great goal,” he told Geno.
“I had to score at least one,” said Geno. “I’m a striker. I can’t expect to get picked if I can’t deliver. You did most of the work for it though.”
“But you put it in the net,” said Roddy loyally. “That’s what counts.”
“Perhaps,” said Geno with a frown. He pulled his shirt over his head and went to take a shower.
Roddy didn’t really want to take the Stadium School strip off. While he was wearing it, he could pretend to himself that he’d already got his place at the school. But staff members were waiting to collect the used kit. Reluctantly, Roddy handed it over and went for his shower wondering if he’d ever have the chance to play in the blue and green again?
6. School Life
At lunch, Roddy and Geno sat at a table opposite Keira. She was with two girls Roddy hadn’t met before, who had been playing in other matches.
“This is great food!” said Keira through a mouthful of chicken pie. “Does anyone know what we’re doing next?”
“Swimming?” said Roddy, trying to remember what was on the itinerary.
“Aren’t we meeting in the hall?” said Polly, one of the girls with Keira. “Someone said the headmaster was going to talk to us.”
“Bor…ing,” said the other girl, Tanni.
Keira frowned. “The talk might be interesting,” she said.
Polly shrugged, and turned to Roddy. “How did you get on in your match?” she asked. “We saw the ambulance from where we were. It was really unsettling. Poor girl, I hope she’s OK.”
“Mr Jenkins said she would be,” Roddy said. “But it was hard to get back into the game afterwards. I think everyone was shaken up.”
“What position do you play?” asked Tanni.
Roddy told her and she grinned. “Me, too,” she said. “And so do you, don’t you, Keira?”
Keira nodded and Tanni smiled again. “There are lots of midfielders here,” she said. “Did you score any goals?”
Roddy shook his head. “No, I only got one shot on target and it hit the post.”
“Shame,” said Tanni, looking pleased rather than sympathetic. “I got one in and had several shots at goal. Quality always shows,” she bragged.
“Well, if we hadn’t been down to ten players…” said Roddy. But he left the comment hanging. There was no point in arguing over who had been best. It was Mr Jenkins who would decide.
“Come on, let’s find a good seat in the hall,” said Keira, getting to her feet.
“OK,” agreed Roddy. “Come on, Geno, leave that!”
Geno had been concentrating on eating. He scowled at Roddy, scraped up the last bit of potato, then put his knife and fork tidily at the edge of his plate, making Roddy wait. “OK,” he said at last, with an infuriating grin, glancing at Roddy’s messy, abandoned plate.
Roddy grinned back. Geno might be slightly built, but he obviously wasn’t the type to be pushed around.
There was still plenty of room in the hall, so they got good seats near the front. After a few minutes, Mr Jenkins came in, accompanied by a man dressed in a dark suit.
“Hello, everyone,” said the man in the suit. “My name is Paul Wender, and I’m the head of Stadium School.”
Roddy was surprised. He had assumed that the head would be wearing blue and green like everyone else, but he was dressed like a bank manager.
“I hope you all enjoyed the trial this morning,” the head went on. “Mr Jenkins tells me that the standard this year is very high, which is terrific. We like to keep ahead in the league we play in, but as more and more top clubs improve their youth squads, the opposition is getting tougher.”
“We accept about 50 students each year,” Mr Wender told them. “And as there are almost 100 people here today, unfortunately many of you won’t get places. I’m sorry we can’t take more. However,” he went on, “those of you who miss out mustn’t think of yourselves as failures. Just to have been offered a trial here means you have heaps of talent. If you’re serious about making it as a professional footballer then you still have a chance that a club will sign you at some point. And if you think you’ve performed badly this morning, don’t give up hope quite yet,” he said.
Roddy crossed his fingers, and Geno did the same.
“You might not think we’ve seen your potential,” said Mr Wender. “But we notice a lot more than you may realise. And remember,” he continued, “we’re looking for character as well as skill. You might be the best striker in the world, but if you’re not a team player we’ll think very hard before taking you on.”
Roddy thought about the girl in his match who had refused to pass to him several times. He was sure she’d only held onto the ball to try and impress Mr Jenkins, but she’d been tackled and, as a result, they’d almost given away a goal. How on earth would the staff decide if her style of play was influenced by being on trial, or if she was usually selfish with passing?
“Tomorrow morning you’ll be doing some activities that will give you a chance to demonstrate more of your skills, and Mr Jenkins will show you our media centre. But for the rest of today,” said the head, “relax and enjoy yourselves. We want your visit here to be fun as well as challenging. And now I’ll leave you in the capable hands of Mr Jenkins and his team.”
The head left and Mr Jenkins smiled. “Right then,” he said. “We have some exciting activities for you this afternoon, but first I thought you’d like to know that Sarah Richards, who was injured this morning, is OK. The hospital tells me that she has a simple fracture, which has been put in plaster. She won’t be able to play for quite a while, but we’ve promised her another trial when she’s fit.”
“That’s good,” Roddy said quietly to Geno.
“She might not want to come back,” said Geno. “A broken leg is a horrible injury to get. It’s enough to put anyone off.”
Roddy was surprised. He couldn’t imagine anything changing his mind about playing, but then he’d never broken his leg.
“To help you get to know the school a bit better, we thought we’d organise a short orienteering session this afternoon,” Mr Jenkins continued. “I hope you’ll find it fun, but you will be timed, so you’ll have to be fast if you want to win the prize. It’ll be a good test of your fitness, and teamwork as well. Then there will be a chance to have a swim, and after tea you’ll have free time in the boarding houses. Our students have lots of fun here after school hours. There’s table football, pool and computer games, including plenty of football ones of course, so there’s never any reason to be bored.”
“What about TV?” asked a boy near the front.
“Each boarding house does have a TV set in the common room,” said Mr Jenkins. “But to be honest they don’t get watched an awful lot … except for when there are football matches!”
Several people laughed.
“For the orienteering, you’ll need to get into groups of four,” said Mr Jenkins. “So let’s see how quickly you can organise yourselves.”
Keira wanted to stay with the two girls she’d met, so Roddy and Geno hooked up with Ali, a goalie, and John, who’d been on the wing in their team earlier. Each group was given a compass and a map of the school and its grounds. They had to get their cards stamped by a membe
r of staff at each checkpoint they navigated to, and there were clues to collect as well. Everyone was told to meet back in the hall afterwards.
“Each clue is a letter,” said Mr Jenkins. “Once you have them all, see if you can make them into a word or phrase. And if you haven’t finished by three o’clock, then just come back here anyway, otherwise it’ll be too late to fit in a swim. Good luck, everyone!”
Roddy hadn’t done any orienteering before, but Ali had, and he showed them how to use the compass to follow their instructions. They raced off to the first checkpoint, leaving several of the other teams standing. But after collecting a couple of letters, they seemed to be lost.
“Let’s go round by the pool,” said Ali. “We might find the way to the next checkpoint there.”
“No!” said Roddy impatiently, seeing their early lead slipping away. “Look at the map! We need to return to the main house. The checkpoint is round the back.”
Ali didn’t want to do that, but he was outvoted.
“I think you’re better at leading than Ali,” panted Geno as they sprinted along the path. “He hasn’t been paying attention to the map.”
They were soon back on track, and heading for the checkpoint manned by Justin.
“There’s one group ahead of you,” he told them as they raced up. He stamped their card. “But not by much. You might overtake them if you hurry.”
They all needed to catch their breath, but Roddy urged them on. “Hurry up!” he said. “We’ve almost done it!”
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