Striker Boy Kicks Out (12 page)

Hatton Rangers then launched their own attack, with Carigio threading a neat pass through to Adilson, whose shot from the edge of the Celtic area was parried by Collins. The Celtic goalie whacked the ball back towards the centre circle. This was followed in quick succession by a scuffed attempt by Pierre Sacrois, and a curling lob from the Celtic left-back Rob Storey, which grazed the post.

The next twenty minutes followed this to and fro pattern, seeing some decent attempts on goal from both teams, which forced Dalston and Collins to make some excellent saves. Robbie Clarke and Dennis Jensen both
had good efforts parried by Collins. It was great to see Graham Dalston pulling off stops like this. It meant that ex-keeper Chris Webb could be consigned to the dustbin of history.

There then followed a frantic five minutes for Hatton Rangers, during which Celtic launched several blistering attacks, forcing Rangers to defend very deep. A Gavin Clyde volley that looked like it was going in was intercepted by a diving header from the Wildman and then a Campdora header was athletically tipped over the bar by Dalston, which earned him several slaps on the back from relieved teammates.

But then, on thirty-nine minutes, Celtic conceded a penalty.

Hatton Rangers were awarded a free kick on the right edge of the penalty area after Dennis Jensen was fouled by Clyde. Adilson strode over to take the kick. Reakin picked up Jensen and stuck to him like a powerful adhesive. But Smithfield positioned himself on the goal line exactly as Stan Evans had predicted. This allowed Robbie Clarke to hang back unmarked, and when Adilson hit the ball short to Clarke and Clarke swung his leg back to hit it, Gavin Clyde grabbed his shirt and Robbie Clarke went down. Clarke was an honest player – he very rarely dived. So when he hit the turf, the referee had no hesitation in awarding Hatton Rangers a penalty.

“YESSSS!” yelled Nat, leaping to his feet with the rest of the Hatton Rangers bench.

“You must be joking!” Angus Reakin bawled at the referee, following him to the edge of the penalty area. When he tapped the ref on the arm, the official swung round and held aloft a yellow card. Paul Smithfield quickly grabbed Reakin and led the Celtic captain away.

Nat had taken the last Rangers penalty in the game against Manchester United. True, he'd hit the bar and scored on a rebound, but he still wished he were out there to take this one. However, it was Adilson who dug a small hole with the toe of his boot before placing the ball down, ignoring the Celtic left-back Rob Storey, who had come over to talk to him, in an attempt to put him off. Bruce Collins in the Celtic goal had a bit of form at penalty-saving – he'd made an incredible save two seasons ago from an AC Milan penalty in the dying minutes of a Champions League game at the San Siro.

But Nat had every confidence in Adilson. The Brazilian star was not only a superb technical player, he was also very calm when it came to set pieces.

Go on Adilson – bury it!

The Celtic supporters whistled and booed far louder than their small numbers should allow, willing Adilson to miss or Collins to save. Adilson stepped back a few metres and then took his run up. He hit the ball sweetly, high and to the goalie's left, but Collins made an incredibly athletic leap, arching his back like a leopard in flight, and pushed the ball round the post. The Celtic fans went crazy, screaming and yelling and singing Collins's name. The
Celtic keeper gave them a wave of thanks. The Rangers fans fell silent for a few seconds, before chanting loudly in an attempt to rouse their players to fight back.

Adilson stood rooted to the penalty spot, amazed that Collins had managed to deny him. The Wildman ran over to him and put an arm round his shoulders, ordering him to immediately wipe it off his memory disc and get on with the rest of the game.

“Forget it, son!” shouted Ian Fox, sleeves rolled up, his face animated as he stood at the edge of the technical area.

Adilson did as he was told. The penalty miss ignited him and for the next five minutes he was in almost constant possession of the ball, spraying passes, dodging round defenders and shooting from all angles. But there was no goal.

As the clock wound down, both sides began to play very defensively, keen not to concede before half-time. So when the whistle went, the score stood at nil-nil, and Nat made a beeline for Adilson.

“You were so unlucky with the penalty,” he said. “It was a beauty. Collins did amazingly to get to it.”

“Thanks,” smiled Adilson. “I really thought it was going in.”

“That's just the way it goes,” said Stan Evans, joining them. “However good your technique is, you can't score them all.”

Back in the changing room, Ian Fox waited for all of
his players to grab a drink and go to the toilet before he began his half-time talk.

“OK, lads,” he began. “That wasn't a bad first half. At the start we gave away possession far too easily, but we became more disciplined and we fully deserved the penalty. Bad luck, Adilson. Even I missed a couple in my time.”

There were laughs round the room.

Adilson nodded to thank the boss for this show of support.

“In the second half,” went on Fox, “I want you to play the ball more to feet. Davey Cathcart, their right-back, looks like he's carrying some kind of injury. If he's still on for the next forty-five, take advantage of that. Let's get some balls down that channel and hit some crosses in. Wildman and Emi, I want both of you to press up at set plays – put some pressure on their back four. Kelvin you stay back to cover them. OK?”

The Wildman, Emi and Kelvin nodded.

Ten minutes later, everyone filed out for the second half.

But in spite of Fox's words, Hatton Rangers didn't keep possession for long. Fortunately for them, Celtic were just as bad and the match started to become a scrappy affair. Both teams chose safe passes instead of trying to break through to the opposition goal. But on fifty-eight minutes the game reignited. Gavin Clyde smashed an incredibly forceful long-range free kick towards the Rangers goal.
The Wildman, who was standing on the line, just managed to head it to safety.

That free kick and the close escape were a wake-up call for Rangers and they started putting some decent passing moves together. Adilson had a half chance after he picked up the ball in the Celtic D, but he scuffed his shot and it rolled into the hands of Bruce Collins. Dean Jobson then headed a corner wide.

However, Ian Fox wasn't satisfied. As the clock passed the seventieth minute mark he turned to Nat. “I'm taking Carigio off. Four-four-two isn't working. I've given it most of the game but if we're to take the three points, we need to get amongst them. I want to move to four-three-three with you and Clarke playing on either side of Jensen – you on the left. You need to put pressure on Davey Cathcart. He's only firing at about eighty per cent. Your speed might undo him. Let everyone know what we're doing, OK?”

“Yes, boss,” said Nat, with a great surge of excitement. Stan Evans hurried over to the fourth official to inform him of the change.

As soon as the ball was out of play, the fourth official held up his electronic board with Carigio's number seven in red and Nat's thirty-three in green. Carigio spotted his number and jogged off, exchanging a handshake with Nat. He didn't look too pleased. In fact, he looked as if someone had just uttered a hideous insult to his mother, but Nat didn't have time to think about that. Number
thirty-three was now on. It was another chance to play with the grown-ups.

“We're going four-three-three,” Nat shouted at the Wildman as he ran onto the pitch. Nat jogged over to Jensen and Clarke to inform them of the switch.

“The gaffer's right to mix things up,” nodded Jensen. “We've got to find a way past Reakin and Smithfield. Cathcart is definitely not at full power. We'll get the ball to you, Nat – you make it to the byeline. Robbie and I will get into decent positions for your crosses.”

Nat sprinted over to the left side of the pitch. The ref blew his whistle and the throw-in was quickly taken. Nat could smell the freshly-cut grass and was aware of the shouts from the players and the noises from the crowd, but he knew that if he wanted to achieve anything, he had to block all of that out.

For his first five minutes on the pitch, Nat had no possession. But then the Wildman picked him out with a pass from inside the Rangers's penalty area. Nat took the ball in his stride and suddenly he was on his way. Cathcart ran towards him. Nat swerved left and then right to beat his man and left him floundering. He sped on and cut inside to approach the Celtic penalty area. Angus Reakin powered out to challenge him, but Nat spun away from the challenge and lofted the ball over the Celtic captain. It flew into the area. Dennis Jensen reached it with his right boot but his contact was weak and Bruce Collins made an easy save. After this positive move, though, Nat was fired
up and he registered Stan Evans yelling encouragement at him.

Three minutes later, Nat was involved again, but was dispossessed by Reakin just before he made it into the penalty area. And then on eighty-four minutes, when Dean Jobson found Nat with a slide rule pass, Nat accelerated past Cathcart and pelted towards the penalty area. Reakin advanced towards him, his giant frame looking over Nat. But remembering the extra work he'd done in training with Evans, Nat launched himself at the oncoming defender. Nat felt his whole body take a direct hit, but although he wobbled, he stayed upright, dragged the ball past Reakin and hit a deviously curling ball into the Celtic penalty area.

Adilson left his marker for dead, and with a fantastic strike volleyed the ball into the top left hand corner of the Celtic net.

“Sensational goal!” screamed Nat, rushing over to Adilson and hugging him.

“Sensational cross!” laughed the Brazilian

The other Rangers players charged over to dish out their thanks, swarming round the goal-scorer and the provider.

“You GENIUS!” bellowed Emi, whacking Nat on the back.

In the technical area, Ian Fox didn't join in with the celebrations. Instead he yelled at his players to get back into their own half and regain their shape. As Nat
expected, Celtic weren't going to let in a goal and not respond, so the last five or so minutes saw Celtic piling everyone forward, streaming into the Hatton Rangers penalty area, hitting the bar twice and inspiring a fantastic low save by Graham Dalston.

In the first minute of time added on, Gavin Clyde thumped the ball into the penalty area. Angus Reakin and the Wildman went up together – two humungous players with incredibly strong necks and heads. On this occasion the Wildman came out on top, his thumping header smashing the ball to safety.

And then the referee blew for full-time.

Hatton Rangers one – Celtic nil.

Nat's twenty minutes on the pitch had seemed to last no more than ten seconds. Everything suddenly took on a dreamlike quality. It was as if he were watching himself and the other Rangers players on a fuzzy screen.

“Fantastic work, son!” beamed Stan Evans, coming over and giving Nat a hearty slap on the back and bringing him back to reality. “Not only did you do what the boss asked by taking on Cathcart, you also gave Reakin an excellent run for his money!”

Ian Fox was less effusive with his praise. He walked up to Nat and shook his hand. That was it.

But Nat didn't mind. The high of getting a game was amazingly powerful. The Rangers players, subs and management team ran over to their wildly celebrating fans, to acknowledge their part in the victory.

Back in the changing room, the atmosphere was fantastic – there was nothing like a victory to lift people's spirits. Stan Evans walked round the room, having a word with everyone who'd got a game.

“You, Emi and Kelvin are coming back to the hotel with the rest of us,” he told Nat. “We're not going to have a major celebration – you know what the boss is like. We'll just have a few drinks, mainly non-alcoholic ones!”

“Cool,” grinned Nat.

The Wildman led the communal singing and it was a full hour before everyone was changed and ready to leave the stadium. There was more singing and shouting on the team bus.

Back at the hotel, Nat and the others got something to eat and drink and sat in one of the hotel's lounges watching highlights of the game on a large TV and cheering wildly when Nat went on his run and Adilson scored.

The father of Kelvin's host family gave Nat a lift back to Inés's place. Inés came out to meet them and she chatted in Spanish to the dad for a few minutes before he bade his goodbyes and left with Kelvin.

“That was a wonderful pass for Adilson's goal!” said Inés delightedly. “I had a great view.”

“Did José come?” asked Nat.

She shook her head. “But you won. You must all be so pleased!”

“We are!” smiled Nat. “Celtic are a tough team.”

“Well, you must be hungry. Can I fix you something?”

“No thanks. I ate loads back at the hotel.”

“Fine. Get a good night's sleep. You'll need it for the Lazio game. They'll be a bigger test than Celtic.”

“I agree,” nodded Nat. “Lazio will be much tougher.”

Nat said goodnight and made for his room. What an amazing night it had been. He'd got another twenty minutes of first team football under his belt and he'd made the assist for Adilson's goal. Ian Fox hadn't run round the changing room chanting Nat's name, but Nat was sure the gaffer would be satisfied with his performance. Fox might give him a longer run out – maybe even bring him on at half-time. And that was definitely something to look forward to.