T.J. and the Cup Run (6 page)

‘It wasn’t Rafi’s fault,’ Jamie said, shaking his head. ‘Goalies have to think about their positioning all the time, but Rafi’s not a goalie, is he?’

‘And St Joseph’s know that now, don’t they,’ said TJ. ‘Look.’

Another St Joseph’s player had the ball a long way from the goal. He hit a shot at Rafi that Jamie would have saved easily. Rafi dived and the ball bounced off his body
straight
into the path of the striker, who tapped it into the net. ‘Bad luck, Parkview,’ shouted Mr Potter. ‘Keep your heads up. Don’t give up!’

But it was hopeless. The Parkview players were disorganized and miserable. When the score reached 9–0, Mr Potter took Leila off and brought Tommy onto the field as a striker. Tommy took St Joseph’s by surprise. He raced back into his own half and tackled Mac fiercely as he was about to shoot. There was a ripple of applause from the dispirited Parkview fans. He brought the ball out of defence and passed it to Cameron who slipped past an astonished St Joseph’s midfielder and then played a return pass to Tommy, who was sprinting towards the St Joseph’s goal. Tommy took the pass in his stride and lashed the ball past the goalkeeper.

‘See,’ said Rob, as the final whistle blew.
‘We
could have beaten them.’

‘But we lost nine–one,’ said TJ. ‘And that was just a friendly match. Imagine what’ll happen in the Cup.’

C
HAPTER
9

‘I’M GOING TO
have a word with Mr Burrows tonight about your football team,’ said TJ’s dad. ‘He’ll be there, won’t he? I don’t see why you and Jamie and Tulsi can’t play.’

It was the Saturday evening following the 9–1 defeat and the Wilson family were getting ready for a PTA Quiz Night at Parkview School. ‘I don’t think it would be much fun playing at the moment,’ said TJ. ‘Mr Potter hasn’t got a clue about how to run a football team.’

‘You mustn’t disrespect your teachers, TJ,’ frowned his mum.

‘And it’s the team that matters,’ added his dad. ‘Not how much fun TJ Wilson has. That football team has helped to make Parkview into a great school, and the team needs its best players on the pitch. That’s what we should be thinking about. Now come on, everyone. We’re going to be late.’

When they arrived at the school lots of people had arrived already. Jamie’s family were sitting at the table next to TJ’s. ‘I reckon Rob’s team will win,’ Jamie said. ‘Rob knows everything about sport, and Rob’s dad looks like he probably knows about everything else!’

‘I’m not so sure,’ said TJ. ‘Look at Mrs Logan and Mr Potter. They look like they mean business. And they’ve got Miss Berry too.’

The quiz was just about to start when the door opened and Mr Burrows entered with his team. ‘Look,’ exclaimed Jamie. ‘It’s
Marshall
Jones. And Mr Wood.’

It took a while for the excitement to die down. Even though the Parkview mums and dads were getting used to seeing Marshall Jones at events like this, his arrival always caused a stir. ‘Welcome, everyone,’ said Mr Coggins, the school caretaker, finally. He was quizmaster for the evening. ‘The first round is all about TV catch phrases. Off we go.’

Some of the teams did quite badly in the quiz but they had a great time anyway.

‘We have a tie for first place,’ Mr Coggins said when he had checked all the answers. ‘With a score of thirty-nine out of forty we have Mrs Logan’s team, and the Grant family.’

‘We were both right about the winners,’ TJ said to Jamie.

‘We have a sudden death decider,’ Mr Coggins announced. ‘The first team to get an
answer
wrong is the loser.’

‘Like a penalty shoot-out,’ said Jamie. ‘Go on, Rob. You can do it.’

‘First question,’ said Mr Coggins. ‘Only two teams have won the FA Cup ten times or more. Name the teams.’

There was a buzz of chatter. On the other side of the room Marshall and Mr Wood were both shaking their heads. But Rob was smiling.

‘Of course!’ said TJ. ‘Rob was bound to know.’

‘Right,’ said Mr Coggins. ‘The answer is that Manchester United have eleven wins, and the other team, with ten wins is . . . Arsenal!’

Rob’s mum and dad patted him on the back, but Mr Potter was on his feet. ‘That can’t be right,’ he said. ‘I’m sure it’s Tottenham.’

TJ saw Miss Berry mutter ‘I told you.’ Then
he
heard Rob’s voice. ‘Tottenham have won eight times,’ he said. ‘The last time was in 1991. They’re very good in the Cup, and when they’ve got to the final they’ve only lost once.’

‘Absolutely right,’ said Mr Coggins. ‘Congratulations to the Grant family!’

‘Great stuff, Rob,’ said Marshall, coming over to join them. ‘You’re like a walking football encyclopaedia!’

Rob went bright red and his dad ruffled his hair.

‘Excuse me,’ Mr Potter said, edging awkwardly up to Marshall and Mr Wood, and ignoring Rob and his dad. ‘I wonder if I could have a word, Mr Jones? I’m Adrian Potter. I’m the PE teacher here now. I . . . er . . . wondered if you’d mind giving our team a bit of help some time?’

‘Me?’ said Marshall with a smile. ‘I’m no coach. You’ve got a top-class coach here
already
, if you ask me. A tactical genius.’

‘Really?’ asked Mr Potter, looking confused.

‘That’s right,’ said Marshall. ‘Young Rob here. Best assistant any manager could wish for. Isn’t that right, Johnny?’

Mr Wood nodded and extended a hand to Mr Potter. ‘I’m Johnny Wood,’ he said. ‘Pleased to meet you, Mr Potter. Rob has been very helpful, it’s true. But I’m sure you’ll want to do things your own way.’

Mr Potter glanced at Rob as he shook hands with Mr Wood. ‘Exactly,’ he said. ‘We can’t really have the children telling the teachers what to do, can we? Nice to meet you, Mr Jones. I . . . er . . . I’d better go.’

Mr Potter walked away, and immediately Rafi, Rodrigo, Tommy, Jamie, Tulsi and TJ surrounded Mr Wood and Marshall. ‘Are you going to come back and work here again?’ demanded Tulsi.

‘I’m sorry,’ Mr Wood replied. ‘I’m working in another school. Mr Burrows invited me back for the quiz, that’s all. I bet you’re looking forward to the Cup semifinal next week. Are you ready?’

The friends looked at each other. ‘Well?’ asked Mr Wood. ‘What’s the problem?’

‘Mr Potter doesn’t think TJ, Jamie or Tulsi should play,’ Rob said finally. ‘He says they play plenty of football already and the others should have a chance.’

Mr Wood frowned. ‘I suppose he has a point,’ he said. ‘And it’s none of my business, you know. I’m not your teacher any more. Sometimes things aren’t easy and you just have to make the best of it.’

‘Right,’ said Marshall. ‘I remember when we had a new manager at Wanderers. I was just a kid really, and I thought I knew best. The manager dropped me from the team, and I thought I’d never get my place
back
, but I didn’t give up.’

‘It’s just, when we were doing well it made everyone so happy,’ Jamie said. ‘Losing 9–1 doesn’t make anyone feel good.’

‘I see what you mean,’ grinned Marshall. ‘But you’re a talented bunch of kids and you have got the world’s greatest assistant coach with you. I reckon you’ll be fine.’

‘It was good seeing Mr Wood and Marshall,’ TJ said to his dad as they walked home. ‘But I don’t think they really understood how bad things are.’

‘It’s not their problem,’ said his dad. ‘But I spoke to Mr Burrows and you know what? I don’t think he likes to see the team losing nine–one either. I think you might have some good news on Monday.’

C
HAPTER
10

TJ’S DAD WAS
right. On Monday afternoon they had training and Mr Potter seemed to be taking it a lot more seriously. They warmed up properly for a change and then they had to practise dribbling and shooting.

Halfway through the session TJ glanced over at the school building and saw Mr Burrows standing in one of the doorways, watching.

After a while, Mr Potter organized them into teams for some five-a-sides. ‘I’ll play with the Reds,’ he said, handing red bibs to Tommy, Danny, Cameron and Jay. ‘We’ll play
against
Rodrigo, TJ, Jamie, Tulsi and Rob. Miss Berry will organize the other teams.’

‘Do you think he’s any good?’ Rob asked TJ, as they pulled on blue bibs.

‘Don’t know,’ said TJ. ‘I can’t understand why he suddenly wants to join in.’

‘I can,’ said Tulsi. ‘He’s trying to impress Mr Burrows. How are we going to play? I’ll be striker, obviously. Get the ball to me and I’ll put it in the back of the net.’

TJ laughed. ‘Rob’s been doing these amazing passes,’ he told her. ‘We practised in the park, so be ready.’

He tapped the ball to Tulsi, and she gave it back to Rob. TJ sprinted forward down the right wing, expecting one of Rob’s piercing through balls. When it didn’t arrive he turned and saw that Rob had played a simple pass to Rodrigo, who’d knocked it on to Tulsi again. Then the ball was back with Rob and he played yet another
straightforward
pass. The old, careful, cautious Rob was back.

Moments later Jamie rolled the ball out to TJ and he found himself facing Mr Potter. The teacher was hopping from one foot to the other, trying to guess which way TJ would go. TJ played the ball between his legs and then darted behind him with a big smile on his face.

‘Look out, TJ!’ called Tulsi. ‘Man on!’

TJ had been so pleased with his nutmeg
on
Mr Potter that he hadn’t noticed Danny waiting for him. It was a fifty-fifty ball – both players had an equal chance of winning it – but Danny was strong. He put his foot behind the ball and TJ went tumbling over. Danny passed to Tommy and the Reds were on the attack.

‘Nice tackle, Danny,’ TJ said, as he climbed to his feet and raced back to help the defence. Tommy was tearing down the wing and he crossed the ball before Rodrigo could stop him. ‘Look out, everyone!’ called Mr Potter, as the ball flew towards him. ‘I’m going to volley this.’

TJ felt as if he was watching in slow motion as Mr Potter pulled back his foot and launched an enormous kick at the flying ball. He missed completely. His foot connected with thin air and he swung right round and fell flat on his back with a heavy thump.

‘Are you all right, Mr Potter?’ asked Jamie, coming out of goal and offering the teacher a hand. Mr Potter waved him away and climbed gingerly to his feet. He brushed bits of grass and mud from his face, which had gone very pale.

‘I bet that hurt,’ Tulsi said. ‘You’d better sit down, Mr Potter. You hit the ground really hard.’

The other game had stopped and Miss Berry rushed over to them. ‘Tulsi’s right,’ she said, and she led Mr Potter to a bench at the side of the field. ‘You should go inside,’ she told him. ‘I can look after the children for the rest of training.’

‘No,’ said Mr Potter. ‘I’ll be fine. Just help me to my feet.’ He tried to stand, then winced and sat back down again very fast.

Mr Burrows came across the field towards them. ‘A jolly good training session, Mr Potter,’ the head teacher said. Mr Potter
looked
slightly less sick, and even started to smile. ‘And I’ve been thinking,’ Mr Burrows continued. ‘You’re quite right, Mr Potter. We have a lot of children here who are turning into very good players and they all deserve the chance to play in a team. But there’s a simple solution, you know. We will have another team. Why, we could even have three teams . . .’