On the Spot (5 page)

“You'll have to make sure you get your place in the starting line-up, then,” said Jimmy.

“As if Marek needs to worry about that,” said Geno. “He's been doing extra training all week, practising free kicks and penalties.”

“But I've been training with Mr Roberts, too,” Marek said. “So there's been less time to spend on my
proper
training.”

“You worry too much,” said Geno sleepily.

Marek turned over and the bed creaked. “You know how tough it is to get picked for the first team,” he said. “If I let my game suffer, Mr Jenkins will drop me, and my cousin is expecting to see me shine.”

“I suppose, if the worst happened and you did get dropped, you could always invite
your cousin to see you play in a Charlton match,” Roddy suggested.

Marek looked at him in horror. “I couldn't do that!” he said. “I'd be playing in the wrong position. I can't let him see me being a goalkeeper!”

“Why not?” asked Jimmy.

Marek sat up and took a deep breath. “When I was very young, my father took me to watch Poland play,” he told them. “My hero had always been Maciej Zurawski. He had a great game, and afterwards I went round to the players' entrance so I could ask for his autograph.”

“I've done that at Villa Park,” said Jimmy.

Marek glared at him, and Jimmy fell silent. Zurawski was so kind to me,” continued Marek. “He stopped to talk, and asked me what my ambition was. When I admitted that I wanted to be a striker like him, he said
I could be if I wanted to. If I tried hard enough.” Marek looked seriously at his friends. “I believed him. And I still believe him. All my family have known of my ambition for years. What would they think if my cousin tells them that he saw me not scoring for my side, but sprawled in the mud, trying to save goals instead?” And with that, Marek got out of bed and stomped moodily from the room.

Roddy watched him go and then whistled. “Phew,” he said. “That boy has a big problem, doesn't he? Why does it matter what position he plays in? He's turning out to be a great all-rounder. He's really lucky.”

“I'd love to be more of an all-rounder,” Jimmy agreed. “But it might be really confusing. I mean, what if you forgot you weren't playing in goal and put your hand up for the ball?”

“Some players do change positions,” said Roddy, putting his wash bag and towel away. “Peter Schmeichel started out as a striker, then he went on to become one of the best keepers in the world. Loads of people move around the pitch while they're learning, it gives them a better knowledge of the game. You get to know all the tricks of the people you'll be up against, and what they're likely to do.”

Marek reappeared and climbed wordlessly into bed. Then Mr Clutterbuck poked his head round the door to check they were all ready to go to sleep.

“Night, lads,” he said, turning off the light.

Roddy let Mr Clutterbuck's footsteps fade away down the corridor before he spoke. “We've got a tough match against Moore on Saturday, but we can do it. Charlton for ever!”

“Charlton for ever,” came the mumbled reply.

The term was moving on. Four weeks had already passed, but there was a lot to look forward to. The match against Leeds was looming large on the horizon, and provided a target for everyone to work towards.

Today, however, all thoughts were on the House Cup. Charlton first years were playing Moore in the afternoon.

After morning training, it was IT, one of Roddy's least favourite subjects. However, Mr Davies, the teacher, tried to make the lesson interesting by giving them a football-related exercise to do.

“You're all chairmen of your favourite clubs,” he told them, writing busily on the
whiteboard. “We're going to look at how you can use spreadsheets to keep track of your budget. Now, let's have a few ideas of things you'll need to buy.”

The suggestions were quick to come, and Roddy was enjoying himself.

“Players!” was the first suggestion.

“Staff. Maintenance. Electricity?”

“Good,” said Mr Davies. “And how are you going to get money in to pay for all this?”

“Tickets!”

“Sponsorship!”

“TV money!”

Soon Mr Davies had introduced the class to simple spreadsheets, and they had a long list of items to budget for. This wasn't quite so much fun, and Roddy's head started to spin. He glanced out of the window, and saw a class of older students out on one of the
practice pitches, playing a match. He wished he were there, too, instead of stuck indoors with a load of figures.

And Jones has the ball at his feet. He's surrounded by players much older and stronger than him, but his magical skills are letting him run rings around them all. He beats one man … two … three, and he's one on one with the keeper. Roddy Jones draws back his foot to shoot and…

“Roddy Jones!”

Roddy jumped, and turned away from the window.

“If I catch you daydreaming again, I'll dock you some house points,” Mr Davies threatened.

Roddy saw several Charltonites glaring, and he gave them an apologetic grin. He focussed on the spreadsheet again, but however hard he tried, he just couldn't get
his budget to balance. To raise enough money, he'd have to sell his best player, but if he did that he might not get so many people in to watch the matches, and then his income would go down, and he'd be broke again, with a weaker team as well. Roddy groaned. Whatever he did with his life, he must remember never to take on the job of chairman of a football club!

After lunch, it was a relief to get outside for the match. A cold wind was sweeping across the field, but even so, lots of students had turned out to watch.

Keira assembled her team for a pre-match pep talk. “We need to play our best attacking game to have a chance of winning,” she reminded them. “Moore are strong in every position and we can't win by sitting back and defending. We learned that against Stiles.

It's far better to draw 4–4 than lose 1–0. Football's about scoring goals, not worrying so much about conceding that you never attack. And with Marcel Temperley and Tom Larsson both out of the picture, neither team is playing their first-choice keeper. So just enjoy yourselves and get stuck in.”

Today's match between Moore and Charlton is being played in blustery conditions, and we may have rain later. Dvorski is in goal again for Charlton. After his recent heroics against Stiles, the new goalie may not be the weak spot Moore were hoping to exploit. The Polish striker has proved a very capable stand-in keeper, and Moore need to take him seriously. Charlton are short of options up front, however, and Perotti's going to need plenty of support from midfield if he wants to crack the Moore defence. Brett Wilson is standing in for the
injured Tom Larsson as goalie, and no doubt the imposing American will be trying to stake a permanent claim to the number-one shirt.

Moore kick off, and play the ball around in their own half as they settle into the game. The Charlton attackers are hustling them, and trying to force an error. McInnes, in the Moore defence, passes back to the goalie, but there's not enough weight on the pass and it's left stranded. Perotti gets there first. He takes it round the goalie and places the ball in the open net. Wilson has his head in his hands. Charlton have scored an early goal on the break.

Geno couldn't celebrate for long. There was still plenty of time for Moore to come back into the game.

“Good work,” encouraged Keira. “You forced the mistake, but they won't roll over for us. We must keep up the effort.”

Charlton have taken an early lead, but Moore are starting to look like the stronger team. Dvorski makes a top-class save to deny the Moore striker Finnigan, and is applauded by the supporters. He rolls the ball out to Jess Ponting, the left full-back, who passes it back inside to Mbeki. Mbeki plays it up to Sanders, whose pass to Eboni Nagel is intercepted. Moore are sweeping forward now, and Charlton are in trouble. Finnigan shoots, and although Dvorski gets a hand to it, the rebound is bundled in by Bullard. It was a scrappy goal, but they all count. Moore are back on level terms!

Marek looked disgusted, but Keira told him not to worry. “We'll score another one, just you wait. You're doing brilliantly.”

Half-time is approaching, and these two teams are very evenly matched. The whistle blows, and the teams get a few minutes rest
from this nail-biting contest.

“Good effort so far,” said Sam, once they were all gathered in the team-talk room. “A draw wouldn't be a bad result today, but I think you can win. Keep trying to hit them on the counterattack without exposing yourselves. Marek, you're working extremely hard. Keep it up. If we can score another goal, that should do the trick. They won't get any past you.”

The teams return to the field, and Charlton kick off. Jones and Sanders are taking up more advanced positions this half. Charlton look to be going all out for the win here. Moore will struggle to contain Charlton's attacking flair, but it could be dangerous if Charlton leave their defence exposed too often.

Sanders picks up the ball from a Moore goal kick, and feeds it to Jones. Jones plays
it back to Sanders, who moves further up the field. Perotti drops deep to get involved with the move, and slowly but surely the ball is moved towards the Moore goal. This is great play from Charlton, but it needs an end result. The Moore defence are holding firm, and in the end Sanders chances a long shot. It's on target, but the Moore goalie makes a comfortable save. Charlton rush back to their own half to defend again, and the keeper hits it long, into the path of the Moore left winger. This is real end-to-end stuff.

Moore are on the offensive now, and Dvorski is forced to make another good save, tipping a fierce shot from Bullard behind for a corner. Charlton have everyone back in their own area apart from Perotti and, as the ball comes in, Piper gets his head to it. The Charlton attack stream down the pitch. Mbeki knocks it ahead of Jones, who catches
up to the ball on the halfway line. He sees the Moore keeper off his line, and tries an audacious long chip. The keeper is back-pedalling frantically, and everyone else is just standing and watching. The ball seems to arc in slow motion, dropping towards the goal. The keeper isn't going to make it in time, but neither is the ball. It bounces off the crossbar and into the relieved arms of the goalie. That's unlucky. Jones is denied a spectacular goal!

A collective groan went up from everyone watching, followed by a smattering of applause from the Charlton supporters. Roddy had been inches away from scoring an amazing goal, but he couldn't dwell on it. There were still a few minutes left to play, plenty of time for either team to score.

Both sides have thrown caution to the wind in an attempt to take the win, but time
is running out. As another Moore attack is thwarted by Charlton's defence, the ref looks at his watch and blows the final whistle. Either team could have won this, but a draw is probably the fairest result. There's been magnificent entertainment here this afternoon.

Both teams came off the field grinning, even though the wind had brought rain with it for the second half of the match.

“Not a bad result!” gasped Roddy to Keira.

“Yeah,” agreed Keira, catching her breath. “We had them on the back foot at the start. Geno's early goal really got them rattled. Pity we couldn't keep it up. But they played really well, and their defence is better organised. You almost won it for us, though.”

“I know. It was so close,” Roddy agreed.
“But didn't Marek cope brilliantly.”

“He did,” said Keira, looking around for her keeper. “Hey, Marek! You played a blinder. Moore had loads of shots on target. It was amazing you only let one in.”

Marek joined Keira and Roddy. “I let in one too many,” he said. But although he looked tired, and a bruise was coming on from when he'd dived bravely at John Finnigan's feet, he seemed happy. “I really enjoyed the match,” he added with a grin.

“Glad to hear it.” Keira returned the grin. “But I'm getting cold. It's time for a shower. Coming, girls?” she called to Jess, Ashanti and Eboni, who were coming off the field.

“See you in the team-talk room,” said Roddy, as he and Marek headed for their own changing rooms.

After showering, they had a chance to discuss the match in more comfort.

“The senior girls won their last match against Moore, and the senior boys drew,” said Roddy. “So in the overall competition, we're catching them up.”

“Did you hear some of their comments afterwards?” said Geno. “Moore were claiming they should have had a penalty. What rubbish! They lost fair and square.”

“Completely,” agreed Jimmy. “But after their senior teams' results, that lot were desperate to beat us today. Plus we're still way ahead of them in the first years' cup.”