Authors: Cindy Jefferies
STADIUM SCHOOL
WHERE FOOTBALLING DREAMS COME TRUE
Jefferies & Goffe
Tom Larsson was playing an absolute blinder in goal. He'd made several majestic saves, and it was beginning to seem like he was unbeatable.
It was a chilly winter's morning, and the students were halfway through their training session at top football academy, Stadium School. Mr Jenkins, the junior coach, had split them up to play some practice matches.
“I hope you're not all too full of Christmas pudding,” he'd joked at the start of the session. “We've got an 11-week term ahead of us, including a match against Leeds Academy in week six, so you'll need to be in peak condition. But today we're going to
ease you back into the swing of things with a game. Do you all remember the squad I picked at the end of last term?”
Of course everyone could remember. Either from the excitement of getting in, or the disappointment of missing out.
“The first-team defence will play against the first-team attack,” Mr Jenkins had explained. “With the rest of the squad filling in the other positions. That way the teams will be fair, and the main units of the first team can practise playing alongside each other. First-team defence will be in bibs, attack in shirts. If that doesn't include you, make your way over to Mrs Powell, who'll be supervising the other match.”
It was a great idea, but Roddy Jones and the rest of the shirts were having a very frustrating morning as they tried to break down the bibs' defence. As always when he
played a game of football, Roddy's internal commentary was keeping track of the unfolding events.
And it's yet another top-drawer save from Larsson! He's really keeping the bibs in the game today. He throws the ball out to a full-back, but almost immediately possession goes to the shirts and Larsson's goal is under threat again.
Jones moves the ball out to Keira Sanders, who takes it round her marker then knocks it to Bullard on the edge of the box. It's a rasping shot from Bullard, but Larsson somehow gets his fingertips to it and pushes it onto the post. Geno Perotti is lurking for the rebound, and pokes the ball coolly past the keeper, who has no chance to recover. Jimmy Piper, in the bibs' defence, throws himself at the ball, but his last-ditch defending is too late. The ball trickles over the line.
“Yeah! We did it! Goal!” Geno stabbed the air in triumph, but Roddy grabbed his sleeve.
“Tom Larsson's down!” he said. “It looks like he's injured.”
Geno turned back towards the goal. Tom Larsson was hunched over, cradling his right hand; he appeared to be in agony. Mr Jenkins was already on the scene and all the players were gathering round.
“Is he all right?” said Geno, anxiously.
“What happened?” asked Keira.
“It must have been that last save,” said Jimmy. “His fingers bent right back when he got his hand to it.”
Keira winced.
“Sounds bad,” said Roddy. “Tom doesn't normally make a fuss when he's hurt.”
Mr Jenkins waved them all back, and had a few words with Tom. Then he helped the
white-faced goalie slowly to his feet. He radioed to the physio room and it wasn't long before Mrs Anstruther, the school nurse, arrived. She took off Tom's goalie glove carefully and had a quick look at his fingers, but it was obvious that his part in the game was over. Mrs Anstruther spoke briefly to Mr Jenkins, before leading Tom off the pitch.
As soon as Tom and the nurse had left, Mr Jenkins spoke to the rest of the players. “It's likely Tom has a broken finger,” he said, “and he won't be match fit for a while. Ashanti, can you run over to the other game and tell Mrs Powell we need Marcel Temperley, please. Unfortunately, injuries do happen sometimes. Now, let's get this game going again.”
Everyone went back to their positions for the restart, and waited as Marcel walked slowly across from the other pitch. The
Charlton keeper was third choice behind Tom Larsson and Dij Anichebe, who was playing in goal for the shirts, but the Frenchman didn't seem very keen to grab this chance of making an impression.
“Cheer up, Marcel,” Roddy muttered.
“He got very moody last term, and things obviously haven't improved over Christmas,” said Geno, as he lined up beside his friend for the kickoff. “I don't think he's very happy here.”
Roddy shook his head. “I can't believe
anyone
would be unhappy at Stadium School,” he said. “It's football heaven! We were all so lucky to get in. And now we've got a chance to go to the top, with the best coaching and⦔
“OK, I know
you
love it,” laughed Geno. “And I do, too. But poor Marcel is struggling. Didn't you realise? He can't stand grumpy
Mr Roberts, the goalkeeping coach,
and
he has to share a room with Jack Carr. How would you feel if your roommate was the school bully, and your coach couldn't take a joke?”
Roddy thought about it as the game got underway. If he didn't get on well with his coach, it
would
be a bit of a damper on the fun. And Roddy could see that Jack would be even more of a problem. He was a talented footballer, but he liked to throw his weight around, on
and
off the pitch. Roddy had assumed that Marcel got on OK with Jack, but maybe he didn't. After all, they hadn't
chosen
to share a room.
But whatever was up with Marcel, Roddy had to stop thinking about it on the football pitch, even if it
was
just a practice session. He pushed a pass out to Ashanti on the wing, and started to focus fully on the game.
If Marcel wasn't playing to his best, it would make it much easier for Roddy to score.
Temperley is on in place of the injured Larsson, and he is immediately under pressure. Bullard, Perotti and Marek Dvorski are wreaking havoc in the box, and Temperley is throwing himself around to keep the ball out. A cross comes in from the left, and Temperley makes a half-hearted attempt to punch the ball away. It drops to Dvorski, who has no trouble blasting it home.
Keira jogged back to the centre with a smile on her face. As captain of the first team, she might be worried about Tom Larsson, but today she was also captain of the attacking side, and she was never happier than when her team was winning.
“Marcel never told me that he doesn't get on with Jack,” Roddy told Geno, once they were both ready to kick off again.
“Maybe not,” said Geno. “But yesterday he told me that he asked to be moved last term. Only Mr Clutterbuck said there are no spare beds. Poor Marcel's got Brett Wilson and Andy Thirwell in his room, too. Sharing with those three would make
anyone
miserable.”
“That's tough,” said Roddy. “I wish there was something we could do to help.”
He looked over to the goal again, where Marcel was standing with his arms hanging limply by his sides. The goalie was filthy from the dives he'd been making, and looked seriously hacked off.
Marek stood a little closer to join in the conversation while they waited for the ball to get back to the centre circle.
“I hope Marcel is more up for it next week,” he said. “We've got a house match against Stiles.”
Most of Roddy's friends were in Charlton House, and they could see their healthy lead in the competition disappearing without a motivated goalkeeper.
Roddy groaned. “Oh no! That means we're going to be playing against Jack. I bet he tries to wind Marcel up.”
“I bet he tries to wind us
all
up,” said Marek.
“We mustn't let him get to us,” said Geno. “We're a better team than Stiles. If we keep our concentration, we can win easily,
and
keep ahead of Moore and Banks as well.”
“All we need is a happy goalie,” observed Marek gloomily.
During tea that night, Roddy was still thinking about Marcel. Maybe if they went to see Mr Clutterbuck together, it would help. Surely he'd understand how important
it was for Marcel to move rooms? Perhaps they could even squeeze another bed in the room Roddy shared with Marek, Geno and Jimmy if it came to it.
Roddy noticed Marcel get up to leave the dining room, and decided to have a quiet word. Charlton couldn't have an off-form goalie just because he was finding life tough. Even though they weren't close friends, Roddy wanted to help if he possibly could. Anything was worth trying if it meant the team would play better.