Team Player (3 page)

“I might not want to be in Jess's team,” Roddy said. “In my opinion that will make for two very unbalanced teams.”

“Just do as you're told,” snapped Keira.

Several people looked surprised at Keira's remark, but no one said anything.

Roddy was furious. “It's Sunday,” he told her coldly. “This is water polo, not football. You boss us about far too much as it is. You're going to end up splitting the team if you carry on like this.”

Keira looked angry. “I'm trying to organise a friendly game,” she said. “If you don't like it, you know what you can do.”

Roddy glanced over to where Geno was sitting on the side of the pool with his feet in the water. If they hadn't fallen out, his friend probably would have backed him up. As it was, he was looking embarrassed, and trying not to catch Roddy's eye.

“Fine!” said Roddy. He swam to the edge of the pool and climbed out. “I like to play games where every member of the team is equal, not with one person bossing everyone else around. If you lot are too feeble to object, I'm not. See you later.”

Marek hesitated, before following Roddy back to the boarding house, and a few other people did the same. The twins, Eboni and Ashanti, hadn't got into the pool yet, and they glanced at each other before making their decision.

“Look,” said Ashanti, “We don't want to get involved in a big argument, it's not worth it.”

“Yes,” agreed Eboni. “We're off to play tennis instead.”

For the rest of the day Roddy didn't feel like being sociable. He watched TV for a while, and then he went to bed early and
read a book. After lights out he lay awake for a while, thinking over recent events. He didn't know what was going to happen between him and Geno, but he
did
know that Keira was overreaching herself. He might be the first person to speak out against her in front of everyone, but he was sure he wouldn't be the last.

On Monday, the first scheduled training session for the first years with Mr Chadwick didn't happen because he was too busy with the seniors. Instead, the coach sent one of his assistants to take it. Roddy's friends weren't impressed.

“We need all the expert training we can get if we're going to regain our form in time for the match against Banks on Wednesday,” complained Jimmy, who was jogging round the field more half-heartedly than usual.

“It's not Mr Chadwick's fault,” said Roddy, trying to stay positive. “The senior boys have an away match later this week. He's bound to devote most of his time to them. Besides, we know what to do in our morning training sessions, don't we? Come on, Jimmy. I'll race you!” And with that he upped his pace and pulled past his friend with an encouraging grin.

Morning training sessions were usually just fitness-based, and after a year at the school Roddy was right, they
did
know pretty much what to do. After a warm-up, they did shuttle runs for a while, both with and without the ball, and a few other exercises to improve their speed and stamina.

After the session, when everyone had got changed and they were on their way to the first lesson of the day, Keira caught up with Jimmy, Roddy and Marek.

“You were one of the last in after our run this morning,” she told Jimmy crossly. “It's not good enough, and I'm not having a member of my team shown up like that. You were even beaten by the Stiles goalie!”

Jimmy shot her an angry glance. “Shove off, Keira,” he said. “Being Charlton's captain doesn't give you the right to speak to me like that – on
or
off the pitch.”

“But I heard Roddy having a go at you during the run,” she protested. “And he's only vice captain.”

“Yeah, well there are ways of saying things,” said Jimmy. “And you seem to have lost the knack.”

Keira looked annoyed, and very harassed. “Just don't use Mr Jenkins' absence as an excuse to lose fitness,” she snapped, and marched off.

After lunch, back in their room, all talk was of the way things were going.

“I'm fed up with Keira,” said Jimmy, throwing himself onto his bed with a thump. “She used to be so good at keeping up our morale, but now all she does is tell us off. We need a different captain.”

Marek nodded. “You're right, mate.”

“It's only four weeks and two matches to the end of term,” said Geno. “I know she's being a pain, but surely we can put up with her for a bit longer. Don't you think that doing something at this stage, like changing captains, would be a bad idea?” He shot Roddy a glance, and Roddy scowled back at him.

Marek frowned. “I just want us to start winning again, and right now I don't think Keira is helping.”

“If everyone keeps faith in our ability to
win, I expect we'll pull through,” said Jimmy, though he didn't look too sure.

Roddy had gone quiet, but Marek drew him back into the conversation. “What's up with you and Geno?” he asked.

Geno shrugged and Roddy looked cross. “I don't want to talk about it,” he said forcefully.

For a few minutes, no one said anything. Then Marek cleared his throat. “Why don't you have a word with Keira?” he suggested. “You're vice captain. Tell her to stop sniping at us and give us some proper support.”

Roddy frowned again. “Do you think she'd take any notice?” he said. “I don't.”

“Well, it's got to be worth a go, hasn't it?” said Jimmy.

“Go on,” urged Marek. “It can't do any harm.”

“All right,” agreed Roddy uncomfortably.

“I'll try. But don't hold out too much hope.”

“If you go now, you might catch her before we have to go back to lessons,” observed Jimmy brightly.

Roddy sighed, but got up and sorted out his books for the afternoon. “Are you sure about this?” he asked at the door.

“Just go!” urged Marek.

Reluctantly, Roddy made his way over to the girls' boarding house. Eboni and Ashanti were coming out of the front door.

“Keira's just coming,” Eboni told him, when he asked.

Roddy loitered in the afternoon sun, and soon Keira appeared with Jess.

“Can I have a word?” Roddy asked awkwardly.

“Of course,” Keira agreed at once. “I'll catch you up,” she told Jess, who hurried off in the direction of the main school building.
“What's up?” Keira asked, as she and Roddy fell into step along the path.

“It's about the team,” Roddy said.

“What's wrong now?” Keira demanded, looking worried and annoyed. “Someone always seems to be whingeing these days.”

“Yes, well…” Roddy hesitated. It was proving very difficult to decide how to approach the subject.

Keira looked at him impatiently. “Come on,” she said. “We need to get to lessons!”

Roddy took a deep breath. Until recently he'd always got on well with Keira, in spite of their rivalry. He didn't want to upset or annoy her, but someone had to tell her how people were feeling. She wasn't going to like what he said, however he put it, so he might as well tell it straight. “Some of the players are getting fed up with you bossing them about,” he said in a rush.

Keira opened her mouth to reply, but Roddy had to keep talking while he had the nerve. “I know we're all under a lot of pressure with the first-year cup hanging in the balance, but you've got to keep the team from falling apart.”

“That's what I'm
trying
to do,” she said angrily. “But if people like Jimmy don't pull their weight, they must expect to get told off. He came last in the practice run, he's got to show more effort than that.”

“I'm not sure that bossing people about gets the right results,” said Roddy carefully. “You used to lead by example, and people wanted to do well for you. But lately they've just been trying to avoid you having a go at them, and it's not working so well.”

Keira glared at him. “And I suppose you'd do a lot better?” she demanded. “It's all very well when things are going OK, but as soon
as we lose a match everyone goes to pieces!”

Roddy paused and looked Keira straight in the eye. “You're right,” he said. “I do think I could do a better job.”

Keira was furious. “So that's it, then. You're after my armband, and can't wait for me to make a mistake so you can step in and be the hero. Well, it's not me that's causing a split in the team, it's you!” She hitched her bag higher onto her shoulder. “I don't have time for this,” she snapped. “History is about to start. I've got to go.”

Roddy watched as she marched away, then with a sigh he followed.

The day of the match against Banks rolled around. Sam had chosen to stick with the usual formation. Despite the problems in the last match, it had been a winning formula in the past.

But Roddy and Geno had barely spoken since their disagreement. They refused to discuss the argument with Marek and Jimmy, and the atmosphere in their room wasn't good. What with this and the unrest about Keira, it didn't bode well for the unity of the team.

In the team-talk room, Keira gave them all a final pep talk. “Come on,” she urged. “We have to believe in our abilities.”

“I do,” muttered Roddy, louder than he had intended.

Keira glanced in his direction. “You need to work harder,” she told him. “And stop sulking. We won't win if you run around the pitch with a long face. If you're not careful, we'll trip over it!”

Several players laughed uncomfortably, but the majority looked at the captain disapprovingly. Roddy had been the heartbeat of the team all year. He didn't need his work rate criticised in public.

Keira had the grace to look abashed. “We're all on edge,” she said with a sigh. “We want this first-year cup so badly. But maybe we ought to just go out there and play. Have fun, you know? We'll win today. Of course we will. It's only Banks.”

There were a few nods and mumbled agreements.

“Just because it's Banks, there's no room for complacency at this stage in the season,” Roddy added. “We've got to make sure of the win, not simply expect it to fall into our laps.”

A slightly louder rumble of agreement came from the team, and Roddy couldn't resist looking pointedly at Keira.

Sam, oblivious to the power struggle developing in front of her, sent them out onto the pitch with her usual cheerful optimism.

“If we win this game, the cup is almost in our hands!” she said. “Go on! You can do it. Charlton for ever!”

A full-blooded cheer came from the team this time, and the clatter of boots echoed around them as they jogged onto the pitch.

So, here we are for the penultimate game of the season. If Charlton win, it will take a
Herculean effort from Moore to catch them, but if they lose, it opens the title race right up for the final game. It's the business end of the season, ‘squeaky bum time' as some managers call it, and there are rumblings of discontent from the Charlton dressing room. We've seen teams go into meltdown at this crucial stage before, but Charlton have been so strong throughout the season, it would be a real shame for them to throw it all away now. Banks need the points, of course, to keep Stiles in their sights at the other end of the table, and avoid finishing bottom for the third year in a row.

The teams have taken their places out on the pitch, and Charlton are sticking with the fluid 4–5–1 system that has worked so well for them since Marek Dvorski made the conversion from striker to keeper. Perotti, the lone man up front has had a dry spell in
recent weeks, so he'll need plenty of support from midfield if he is to regain his form. The referee blows his whistle, and the match gets underway.

Banks kick off, and are moving the ball well around their midfield. Charlton are slow to close them down, and give Banks far too much time on the ball. They work it out to the wing, the ball is crossed in, and a Banks header fizzes just over the bar. An early warning for Charlton, and hopefully it'll wake them up a bit. Dvorski is certainly awake, and his usual vocal self, shouting at his defence for allowing such a simple opportunity to develop so soon.