Shoot to Win (3 page)

 

 

Jamie looked at Mike's watch. There were seven minutes left. He wondered which team would have more energy in extra-time.

Kingfield had won a throw-in level with the Oak Hall penalty area. Ollie Walsh sprinted over to take it.

“Get it in there!” Hansard was shouting, pointing towards the penalty area. Ollie nodded. He wiped his hands on his top to get rid of the sweat. Then he picked up the ball and took a couple of steps back before running forward and releasing it.

Ollie had the longest throw in the whole school – the ball went all the way to the edge of the area. This was one of the moves that Hansard had worked on in training and, sure enough, Dillon Simmonds, who had pushed forward into the Oak Hall half, made a late, surging run towards the ball.

“Dillon's!” he shouted, leaping to flick the ball on. It went high into the air above the penalty spot.

While the other players looked up, waiting for the ball to drop, Ashish Khan, Kingfield's top scorer this season, went to meet it. With his back to the goal, he sprang towards the sky. In mid-air, he straightened his body completely, as though he were lying on an invisible bed. Then, as the ball fell towards him, he thrashed his right foot up and over his head.

His foot – now directly above his head – made powerful contact with the ball, firing it back towards the goal behind him.

It was the perfect overhead kick. As gravity reclaimed Ash, pulling him groundwards, his shot crashed into the underside of the crossbar with so much force that the ball bounced down on to the goal-line and then right back up again into the roof of the net.

The players' brains took a second to process everything that their eyes had shown them. Then they realized; it was in!

Ash had scored!

 

 

Jamie and Mike both leapt off the ground, along with the rest of the Kingfield supporters.

Whatever Jamie thought of him, Hansard's plan had paid off.

Kingfield were on their way to the Interschool Cup Final.

 

 

 

KINGFIELD SCHOOL REACH

INTERSCHOOL CUP FINAL

 

 

“You get on there and enjoy it,” Mike said to Jamie. The full-time whistle had just blown and all the Kingfield boys were celebrating together in a huddle. “Go on!”

Jamie wandered on to the pitch, leaving Mike to talk to the two blokes that he'd been chatting with earlier.

“We're gonna win the Cup! We're gonna win the Cup!” Jamie's teammates were half-shouting, half-singing as they leapt around in a big circle.

Even though this was his team, Jamie felt like an outsider. He certainly didn't feel as if he'd played any part in their victory.

He waited until the huddle had broken up before he went to congratulate Ash. Even though he was still devastated at being subbed, he was happy for Ash.

“Oh my days, Ash!” he said, slapping the striker on the back. “Best overhead I've ever seen!”

“Cheers, JJ,” said Ash, a wide smile revealing his gleaming white teeth. “Your turn in the final – you ready for Phoenix Park?”

This year the Cup Final was going to be played at a proper stadium. The boys had been buzzing about it ever since they had looked up a picture of Phoenix Park on the Internet a couple of weeks ago. Jamie's whole body pulsated at the thought of running out there. Now it was going to happen!

“Ready?” he said. “I was born ready!”

Then Jamie jogged over to do a high five with Ollie. Their hands met with a firm connection. Ollie was easily his best mate on the team – he always made Jamie laugh.

“Great long throw, Ol,” Jamie said. “It went as far as a corner!”

“Yeah? Well, it's all down to these special exercises I've got for my wrists,” said Ollie, grinning. “Eh – the gaffer doesn't mind the spotlight, does he?”

Ollie was pointing to Hansard, who was having his picture taken by a photographer. He had his fists clenched and was looking straight down the lens of the camera.

Jamie realized this was the first time he'd ever seen Hansard smile. Normally he was angry, and usually with Jamie. Even the other boys had noticed it; it was as if Mr Hansard had hated Jamie from the day he'd first set eyes on him.

“OK – can I get all the Kingfield lads in for a team shot, please?” the photographer said loudly after he'd finished with Hansard. He had the kind of voice that you could hear from miles away.

“Are we gonna be in the paper?” asked Ollie.

“Course you are,” said the photographer, arranging the boys into two rows. “There's going to be a big splash in the
Advertiser
tomorrow.”

“Wicked!” said Ollie, clicking his fingers together. “Wait till the girls see this!”

“OK,” said the photographer. “When I count to three, I want you all to say Cup Final as loud as you can! And lots of cheeky smiles! OK, here we go. . . One, two, three. . .”

“CUP FINAL!!!” The boys shouted as loud as they could and, in their minds, every single one of them imagined lifting that trophy at Phoenix Park in seven days' time.

Then all the boys sprang off in different directions, looking for someone else to share their excitement with.

Jamie looked for Mike. He was still talking to the same two men. The men were nodding to each other now as they pointed towards Dillon and started to walk towards him.

“So your picture's going to be in the paper then, Jamie?” said Mike, patting Jamie on the back. “First of many, I reckon.”

“I hope so!” said Jamie. For a second, he allowed images of stardom and celebrity to sparkle in his mind. Money, cars and parties all whizzed though his imagination. Jack had always told him he was going to be famous. Maybe she was right. Maybe the Cup Final at Phoenix Park would be where it would all start for him.

“Who are those two?” Jamie asked, pointing to the two men who were now talking to Dillon. “Are they from the
Advertiser
?”

“No,” said Mike. “They're scouts.”

 

 

Jamie couldn't believe it when Mike told him. It just seemed so unfair.

The two men that had spoken to Dillon after the game
were
football scouts. And not just any old scouts. They were from Hawkstone United – the club that Mike had played for and that Jamie had supported all his life.

“What?!” Jamie said, trying to make sense of all the scrambled thoughts suddenly scurrying around his mind. “Hawkstone scouts were here today? Mike! Why didn't you tell me?”

“I knew you'd try too hard, Jamie. The best way for you to impress is to just play your natural game.”

“Yeah, but if I'd known
they
were here, I wouldn't have started gobbing off at half-time and got myself substituted, would I?”

“It's not the end of the world, Jamie, there are plenty of other. . .”

“. . .Now I'll probably never play for Hawkstone . . . and
he
will.”

 

After the game, Dillon positioned himself outside the dressing rooms to make sure that everyone could hear as he broadcast his news.

“They said I'm strong and brave,” he boasted. “Right in the Hawkstone mould. . . Think about it – all you lot can say that you played in the same school team as Dillon Simmonds when you're older.”

The other boys were crowding around him, asking questions. “When's the trial?”, “How much money are you going to get?” They had already all started to suck up to him.

Jamie pushed his way past the scrum around Dillon. As far as he was concerned, this couldn't have happened to a worse person. He and Dillon had always been enemies since Dillon had started picking on Jamie on his very first day at Kingfield. And things had got even worse recently, with Dillon trying it on with Jack the whole time. Jamie knew Dillon was just doing it to make him jealous but that didn't make it any easier to take.

And now Hawkstone – the team that Jamie had always felt he was destined to play for – had asked Dillon to go for a trial! Jamie couldn't bear it. And what made it all more infuriating than anything else was the fact that, deep down, Jamie knew he was a better player than Dillon.

Dillon was a bully – Jamie was a footballer.

If Hawkstone were going to sign a player from Kingfield School it should have been Jamie. Not Dillon. Anyone but Dillon.

 

As he waited to meet Jack so they could walk home together, Jamie realized something horrible: today could so easily have been the best day of his life. If things had gone differently, he could have stayed on and played brilliantly in the second half, inspiring Kingfield to the Cup Final and earning himself a trial with Hawkstone United in the process.

Instead, he'd been substituted in the biggest match of his life and the person he hated most in the world had stolen his chance of becoming a professional footballer.

How had it all gone so wrong?

And why?