T.J. and the Penalty (6 page)

C
HAPTER
9

‘LADIES AND GENTLEMEN
, boys and girls,’ Marshall announced. ‘I now declare the Parkview World Cup well and truly open.’

All the food had been eaten and everyone had moved onto the field to watch the matches – and to play. The biggest crowd was waiting for the game on Pitch 3 – Mexico v India. ‘Come on,’ TJ said to the rest of his family, ‘we have to see this.’

Tulsi’s team included her mum and dad, and her little brother, Sunil, who was in Year Two. And in goal, grinning broadly, was a very small lady in a bright green tracksuit. ‘
My
gran,’ Tulsi told them proudly. ‘She only just arrived. She’s come all the way from Birmingham to play.’ She waved to her gran and her gran waved back, bouncing up and down on the spot.

The other team had Mr Coggins playing as striker. The dinner ladies all wore matching pink tracksuits. ‘From our keep-fit club,’ Janice told them. ‘We brought one for Mr C, but he won’t wear it for some reason.’

Mr Coggins was doing complicated warm-ups in the centre of the tiny pitch. He was wearing an ancient Wanderers shirt and a pair of baggy shorts. ‘I hope he’s not going to do himself an injury,’ Janice said, laughing, and then Rob sounded a horn, and the matches kicked off on all three pitches at the same time.

Mexico never had a chance. Tulsi’s dad passed to her and she dribbled past Janice, stopped on the edge of the penalty area and
passed
to Sunil, who shot neatly into the corner.

‘Did you see that?’ Rafi said, tapping TJ on the shoulder. ‘Tulsi passed when she could have scored!’

‘Incredible,’ agreed TJ. ‘Hey, look. Mr Coggins is on a run!’

The caretaker was approaching the goal. Tulsi’s mum stood in his way, but Mr Coggins did something very clever with his body, pretending to go one way, and then slipping easily past Mrs Patel. Only Tulsi’s gran stood in his way. He sent his shot towards the corner, but Tulsi’s gran surprised everyone by diving gracefully and plucking the ball out of the air. She rolled twice, stood up and then bowled the ball right down the middle of the pitch to Tulsi’s feet. Tulsi had no trouble scoring.

India won the match 4–0. ‘Your gran is amazing,’ TJ said. ‘How did she do that?’

‘Tae kwon do,’ said Tulsi’s gran. ‘It keeps you flexible, young man.’

‘Hey, TJ,’ said his dad. ‘Stop jabbering. We’re on next. Jamaica v Brazil.’

Jamaica defeated Brazil 6–0. TJ’s dad was over the moon. ‘Amazing,’ he said afterwards. ‘It’s the first time Jamaica has ever beaten Brazil! We were brilliant.’

‘Hey, Dad,’ said Joey. ‘They’re in Year One! How could we not beat them? They’re only six years old.’

‘We still had to win the match,’ Mr Wilson said. ‘My goal was genius!’

Jamaica defeated Australia next, and then they were in the semifinal. ‘Who are we playing next?’ asked Lou. ‘If we can win, maybe we can go on to win the World Cup.’

‘It’s Iceland,’ TJ said. ‘Jamie’s team.’

‘Matt’s team, you mean. We’ve got to win, TJ, you hear me? I’ll never hear the end of it if we lose.’

‘All right,’ said TJ. ‘Calm down. It’s only a game, Lou. I mean, it’s not even real football.’

‘Don’t be stupid, TJ,’ Lou told him, with a grim look on her face. ‘We simply
have
to win.’

The cones that had marked out the small pitches had been removed and the teams were going to play the semifinals on the bigger pitch they normally used. TJ was surprised to see that the two inspectors were still there, talking to the excited crowd of mums and dads and grandparents and friends.

‘OK,’ said Marshall, who was refereeing the game. ‘We’re playing five minutes each way. No extra time. Just penalties if it’s a draw.’

‘Hey, Jamie?’ said TJ. ‘What are you doing?’

‘What does it look like?’ Jamie said. ‘I’m
going
in goal. I’m too full to move.’

‘World Cup Final, here we come,’ said Mr Wilson, as he kicked off to TJ. ‘They’ve lost their defender. We’ll beat them easily.’

But little Max had other ideas. He nicked the ball from TJ’s dad’s feet and passed to Matt. Lou charged at him, and Matt took a step back, raising his arms in the air.

‘Thanks, Matt,’ said Lou, kicking the ball forward towards TJ. ‘Go on, TJ. Shoot!’

TJ looked up. It was weird. Jamie seemed to fill the goal. TJ had never realized before how long his arms and legs were, and they were only small goals. He made up his mind, and blasted the ball.

Jamie reached out both hands and grabbed it. Then a grin split his face. ‘You never thought I’d do that, did you?’ he said, and he threw the ball out to Matt. Lou barged straight into him, knocking him to one side.

‘Ref!’ yelled Matt. ‘It’s not fair.’

Marshall grinned. ‘Nothing in it,’ he said. ‘It was a fifty-fifty ball. Play on.’

Lou pulled a face at Matt and passed the ball to her dad.

‘Hey, now you’ll see something,’ Mr Wilson said. ‘I’ll show you my famous move!’

The Jamaica team all groaned. Mrs Wilson, the Jamaica goalie, covered her eyes. Mr Wilson had his back to Jamie’s dad. He pulled the ball backwards between his legs, turned – and fell over the ball. Jamie’s dad hit a pass to little Max, who controlled it neatly and shot past Mrs Wilson.

‘One nil to Iceland and half time,’ Marshall said. ‘Nice move, Roy,’ he said to Mr Wilson. ‘Shame it didn’t come off!’

Matt was doing a little celebration dance. He stopped quickly when Lou punched him. Luckily the ref didn’t see.

In the second half, Jamaica attacked all the time. It was easy to attack, because Matt didn’t dare to tackle Lou, but it was impossible to score, because Jamie stopped every one of Jamaica’s shots.

‘He is just brilliant!’ said Tulsi to Rafi. ‘He didn’t have to move and he stopped everything. Even TJ’s hardest shots. Just think – if he wasn’t full of food . . .’

‘Hey!’ said Rafi. ‘Why did we never think of that before? It’s exactly what we need. A goalie who stops everything!’

‘But he’ll never do it,’ Tulsi said. ‘Why would he want to?’

‘Maybe because everyone thinks he’s fantastic,’ said Rafi, as Iceland celebrated victory over Jamaica. Jamie’s team had a lot of supporters and they were all congratulating him.

‘I tried,’ said TJ to his sister, as they walked off the pitch. ‘I really did.’

Iceland went on to defeat India in the final. The match was 0–0 after extra time, and Iceland won 2–0 on penalties. Not even Tulsi could score past Jamie. There was no doubt at all who was the man of the match.

When Jamie went up to receive the trophy, Marshall shook him by the hand.

‘A star is born!’ he said.

C
HAPTER
10

‘DAD RECKONS IF
he gets fit enough from his runs, he might join a football team himself,’ TJ said one night, the week after the World Cup. Jamie, Rob and TJ were waiting at TJ’s house while his dad changed into his running kit.

‘I don’t think that move of his would work even if he was fit,’ said Rob.

TJ laughed. ‘Probably not,’ he said. ‘But he did do it once – we’ve got video evidence – so maybe he’ll do it again one day.’

‘How’s the diet going, Jamie?’ asked TJ’s mum.

‘Good,’ said Jamie. ‘Mum’s got loads of new recipes from the World Cup day. We’ve had something different every night this week.’

‘But not too much, I hope. Didn’t you overdo it a bit before the World Cup?’

‘I won’t do that again,’ Jamie said with a grin. ‘And anyway, we’ve been having lots of salads. I don’t think you can actually get fat from eating too much salad, can you?’

‘I doubt it,’ Mrs Wilson said with a smile.

Jamie laughed. ‘Well, I’m not going to,’ he said, with a determined look on his face.

‘And how about you, Rob?’ Mrs Wilson asked. ‘Does all this running mean you’re going to give up collecting the statistics?’

‘I’m doing that too,’ Rob said earnestly, holding up a small plastic object. ‘This is a pedometer. It counts how far we run. And I’ve got my stopwatch too.’

‘We’d better get started then,’ laughed Mr Wilson, coming into the room in a brand-new tracksuit and trainers. ‘No time to waste.’

They parked at the Sports Centre and jogged off along the trail.

‘You’re not out of breath,’ TJ said to Jamie, when they’d run nearly a kilometre.

‘No,’ agreed Jamie. ‘Do you think Mr Wood will put me back in the team now?’ There was an uncomfortable silence, as they jogged on. ‘Well?’ said Jamie. ‘I did all right at training last night, didn’t I?’

‘So did everyone else,’ Rob said finally.

‘And Mr Wood’s already selected the squad for the match against Wasps. I expect you’ll have to wait. Probably being a goalie is your best chance.’

‘What, like TJ was? It’s a rubbish job, isn’t
it
, TJ? You couldn’t wait to stop doing it.’

‘It wasn’t that bad,’ said TJ.

‘But you were good in the World Cup, Jamie,’ Rob insisted.

‘That was just for fun. And to stop my stomach from exploding.’

‘I’m only saying,’ said Rob, as they arrived back at the car park. He looked at his pedometer. ‘That was three point one kilometres,’ he said. ‘It took twenty-one minutes. It’s a big improvement. We should probably have a complete training schedule planned out. I’ll do it if you like.’

‘There’s no point in all this,’ muttered Jamie. ‘Not if I can’t get in the team.’

‘You are going to come to the match on Sunday though, aren’t you?’ TJ said. ‘To support us? Rob’s coming and he isn’t playing either.’

‘I don’t know,’ Jamie said. ‘I haven’t decided yet.’

*

On Sunday morning a large white minibus was waiting for them at the school. Mr Wood and Miss Berry were standing outside the gate, and TJ was surprised to see Mr Burrows waiting there with them. ‘I thought I’d come along and give you a little support,’ he said. ‘When I watched you beat Hillside, well, it was jolly exciting. I rather enjoyed it.’

The Wasps ground was in a small town about six miles out into the countryside. They drove through a housing estate and parked in a narrow road that was full of cars. Small boys and girls were getting out of the cars in their football boots and making their way through a wooden gate.