Hot Prospect (4 page)

Roddy's sister disappeared down the hall and Roddy gingerly felt his ankle through the towel. It really hurt.

“How's the leg?”

It wasn't Izzy. It was Bryn, panting a bit,
looking sheepish, and holding a carrier bag in one hand.

Roddy forced a smile. “It'll be OK,” he said, trying to sound more upbeat than he felt.

Bryn dug into the carrier and brought out a bag of frozen peas. “I didn't know if you had anything to put on it,” he said. “I've heard that frozen peas are good. You put them on top of a towel or something, so the ice doesn't touch your skin.”

“Oh, thanks!” Roddy took the peas. The packet moulded itself neatly around his ankle, and he could feel the cold seeping into his skin.

Bryn stood awkwardly for a moment. “Sorry,” he muttered at last.

“It was my fault,” Roddy told him straight away. “I was an idiot wanting to practise tackling. It was stupid. I'm just a bit freaked out about the trial and stuff. Sorry.”

There was silence for a few moments and
then Liz came back into the kitchen. “Are you staying for lunch?” she asked Bryn.

Bryn looked at Roddy, who nodded.

“Yeah,” Bryn replied, looking happier. “Cheers.”

After the peas had melted, and Bryn had gone home, Roddy tried walking up and down on his injured ankle. He had a large bruise, and it was very tender when he touched it. He was glad he and Bryn had made up, but would their friendship survive if his ankle didn't get better in time?

Roddy took a look at his bruised ankle. It was the night before the trial and, although the swelling had gone down, it was still painful to the touch. He'd kept off it as much as possible, even though he'd been itching to practise.

“It'll be OK unless I get another knock on it,” he told himself, but he wondered how easy it would be to play carefully on such an important day.

It was surprising how much Roddy had to pack for just one night. What with his boots, swimming shorts, wash bag and a change of clothes, he could hardly zip up his rucksack.

He went to bed in good time, as they were going to have a very early start, but no matter
how hard he tried, he simply could not get to sleep. He kept looking at the hunched shape of his rucksack and wondering what the next day would bring. Eventually, he managed to drift off, but when his alarm sounded, it felt like he'd only been asleep for a few minutes.

After a quick breakfast, Roddy went out to the car and slung his bag in the boot.

His mum gave him a hug. “Good luck,” she said. “Just do your best. No one can ask for more than that.”

Roddy was feeling so jittery and nervous he would even have put up with a hug from his sister. It was pretty amazing that she'd got up so early to see him off. But Liz just tapped him on his shoulder. “Good luck, bro,” she said. “You can do it!”

Roddy got in and closed the car door. He settled himself into his seat, and fiddled with the knobs on the radio until he found some
music that would calm his nerves.

It was a long drive, and by the time they arrived Roddy had given up trying not to be nervous. It had helped to discuss everything he knew about the trial with his dad, and what he should do in every situation they could think of. But as they drew up at the entrance gates, his stomach was churning, and his heart thumped in his chest.

There was a little gatehouse at the entrance, and an official in the trademark green and blue was waiting to see the pass they'd been sent. Roddy's dad handed it over and they waited as the man studied it carefully. After a few moments, he waved them through with a smile.

Stadium School was even more impressive than Roddy had imagined. There were several excellent practice pitches on either side as they made their way up the long drive. They
stopped in front of the main building. Large double doors stood open, at the top of a short flight of stone steps. Roddy could see quite a few people milling around, and more were arriving every moment.

“Do you want me to come inside with you?” Roddy's dad asked.

Roddy looked at the other kids. No one else seemed to be going in with a parent.

“It's OK,” said Roddy, but his voice was not convincing. He got out of the car and grabbed his rucksack. “I'm fine,” he said firmly, slinging the bag over his shoulder, and suddenly he almost was. He gave his dad a brief wave and turned towards the front entrance. He told himself that he didn't need to feel afraid. He'd been
invited
here. He had every right to walk up these steps and enter the building.

Inside, there were several people in blue-and-green sweatshirts, and quite a few people
like him, standing around looking lost. Roddy looked about for Peter or Mr Jenkins, but he couldn't see either of them.

“Hi!” said a cheerful young man wearing a Stadium School sweatshirt. “I'm Jason. You're here for the trial, I guess.”

Roddy nodded.

“Great!”

Jason crossed Roddy's name off a long list, and picked up the name badge that was ready waiting for him. “I'll take you over to the boys' boarding house. That's where you'll be sleeping tonight,” he explained. He led the way along a corridor and out through a side entrance.

Roddy tried to keep his bearings, but after a few twists and turns along the paths he was feeling rather confused. The boarding house was equally impressive. Roddy noticed a large games room downstairs, with pool, table
tennis, and table football. Upstairs, there were lots of dormitories, with four beds in each, and a locker for personal belongings.

Roddy pocketed the key from his locker. “I hope I can remember where my room is,” he said.

“Don't worry,” laughed Jason. “It's confusing to begin with, but you'll soon get your bearings. And if you do get lost, just ask. Anyone in blue and green will soon put you right. Now, come on. We'd better get back for the tour.”

“I'd forgotten about that,” said Roddy, as they returned to the main building. He really wanted to look round the school, but part of him was impatient to get the trial over with.

“We like to settle people in a bit before we start playing football,” explained Jason. “You're bound to feel scared and jumpy when you first arrive. I know
I
did, when I came for
my trial. Besides, we want you to enjoy the whole Stadium School experience.”

“So, did you used to be a student here?” asked Roddy.

“Still am,” said Jason with a grin. “I'm just about to start my final year.”

As soon as they got back into the hall, Jason had to go and look after another new arrival. He left Roddy in a small group, all with name badges, and all looking exactly how Roddy felt. No one in the group said anything.

Every now and then, Roddy took a sideways glance at the others. They were his rivals. He didn't know how many places were up for grabs, but there would be loads more kids at the trial than there were places in the school. There were a couple of really tall people, and Roddy wondered if they played in goal. One lad in particular must have been a good foot taller than everyone else.

Roddy tried to guess who the midfielders were, but it was impossible to tell. He drifted over to a notice board at the end of the hall. On it was a list of last term's fixtures, with the results scrawled on in biro.

“Wow!” A pretty girl from his group, with long, blonde hair, had come to look as well. “See who they've been playing! All the best youth teams in the country!”

Roddy turned around. Her name badge said Keira.

“Did you see the programme about the school on TV?” he asked.

Keira grinned. “I recorded it,” she said. “Must have watched it about ten times now.”

Roddy wished he'd thought of doing that.

“I'll
die
if I don't get in here,” she went on. “It's all I've ever wanted. I'm going to be a top international player one day. Well, I hope so anyway,” she added with a grin. “That's
my dream.”

“Mine, too,” Roddy said, finding himself smiling back. Her enthusiasm was infectious.

Keira peered at his name badge. “Well, let's hope we
both
get in, Roddy. Then maybe we can both achieve our dream!”

“Yeah,” smiled Roddy. If Keira was so positive then Roddy was going to make sure that he was, too.

Just then, the group was called together and Roddy was pleased to see that Jason was going to be taking them on the tour.

“Ask any questions you want,” he said. “I'll be showing you all the cool stuff like the pitches and changing rooms, and the boring stuff as well, like the classrooms.” He grinned. “By the time you've finished the tour you'll be so determined to come here, you'll breeze through the trial! Come on then.” He led the way outdoors and along a gravel path.

Roddy found himself next to a slightly built boy with a mop of thick, black hair. His name badge said Geno. “What position do you play?” Roddy asked, as they made their way along a path.

“I'm a striker,” said Geno. “You?”

“Midfield,” Roddy told him. “Have you ever been for a trial before?”

“No,” said Geno. “But my dad says you just have to concentrate on what you're doing and not worry about anyone else. And playing dirty is absolutely out if you want to get through.”

“So, your
dad's
been to a football trial?” said Roddy in surprise. “It wasn't here though, was it? The school hasn't been going that long.”

“No,” said Geno. “It was in Italy. Years and years ago.”

“So, did he get in?” asked Roddy.

Geno nodded. “Yes, he did. He's retired from the game now, but I can remember going to watch him when I was little.”

“Cool!” said Roddy, wishing his dad had been a professional footballer instead of working for an engineering company. “Who did he play for?”

“Several different clubs in Europe,” said Geno. “But he was proudest when he played for Italia.”

Roddy stared at him. “Italy? He was an international?”

“Yes.” Geno looked embarrassed and proud at the same time.

“What's your surname?” asked Roddy. “I might have heard of him.”

“Perotti.”

“Of course I've heard of
him
!” Roddy was awestruck. He was walking next to the son of Luca Perotti, one of the greatest Italian players
in recent history. He couldn't wait to tell Bryn. Then he felt a pang. If there were many more kids like Geno up for places, Roddy didn't stand a chance. He could just imagine the help and advice Geno must have had all through his life. And of course Stadium School would prefer children of famous parents to a nobody like him.

“Are there many kids here with footballing parents?” he asked.

Geno shrugged. “I don't know. I haven't seen anyone yet. But it doesn't matter,” he added, as if he could read Roddy's thoughts. “Just because you have a famous dad doesn't mean you inherit his ability. However much help you have with training, it can't replace talent. Nothing will fool these guys. If you've got what it takes, you'll get in. They don't care who you are, or where you come from. Football is the thing, my dad reckons.”

Jason took the group past some of the classrooms. “You have to do all the usual lessons, as well as football,” he told them. “You take school exams and everything, but you also get wicked football coaching, and loads of match play as well. There are four houses. Charlton, Banks, Moore and Stiles. You get put into a house and throughout your time at school you play matches against the other houses. At the end of each year, the winning house gets the right to sit on the lucky seats at the Stadium pitch.”

“Lucky seats?” Roddy said to Geno with a grin. “What are they?”

Several people started laughing, but Jason didn't seem to be joking.

“Come on,” he told them. “I'll take you there in a moment.”

He led the way out of the school building and into a large block of changing rooms.

“We have separate boys' and girls' changing rooms, of course,” said Jason. “And the same for visiting teams, too. We're in the girls' ones at the moment.”

The changing rooms were seriously cool. Much better than the scruffy ones at Roddy's old school. Everywhere was tiled, and the polished benches oozed luxury. He'd never thought it would be as good as this!

Jason opened a door to reveal a different room with the same tiled floor. “This connects the two separate changing areas,” he explained. “As you know, juniors play mixed matches, so although the doors are usually locked, this room is useful for team talks once you're all changed. Now, have a look at this.”

He whisked them through the joining room, and opened another door. Roddy caught his breath in surprise. He'd been expecting the boys' changing room, but this
door led outside.

They were facing an avenue of tall, thin trees with branches that almost met overhead, turning the central path into a long, green tunnel. The trees cast a lot of cool shade, and in the light breeze their leaves sounded as if they were advising silence with a long, gentle
ssssh
. Jason led them out into the tunnel. Slowly, everyone fell quiet. About halfway down the avenue, Jason stopped. He turned to face his audience.

“You may already know that Stadium School was built on the site of an old football stadium,” he said, his voice sounding oddly flat in the enclosed space. “The school was founded by Jon Masters, who I'm sure you've all heard of. He was one of the first highearning footballers, and when he retired he wanted to give something back, especially to encourage young players like us.”

Jason indicated the young trees either side of them. “This avenue of trees marks the place of the tunnel that the players walked down to reach the pitch,” he explained. This ground is where Jon Masters saw his first match as a little boy, and also where he first played professionally. That coincidence made him view this place as really special, and so when he heard that the team had moved to a new stadium, he decided to buy the old one to turn into a school.”