Long Shot (2 page)

“But now I really ought to go and put my stuff away,” said Roddy. “Are you staying here?”

“Nah,” said Jimmy. “I ought to unpack as well, I suppose. What are you going to do, Geno?”

“I'll come with you,” said Geno. “Then we can all go to tea together.”

The boys trooped back to their room. It had been fairly tidy when they left, but now it looked as if a tornado had swept through it.

In the middle of the mess stood an extremely tall boy with a very serious expression on his face. As soon as he noticed the new arrivals, he dropped the shirt he'd just taken out of a large suitcase.

“Hello,” he said in a deep voice. “I am Marek Dvorski, the best young striker in Poland. Am I sharing a room with you?”

“Er … yes,” said Roddy after a moment. He took in the boy's height, and impressive untidiness. “I suppose you are.”

Marek looked rather forbidding at first, but Roddy soon realised that although he was serious, he was also very friendly.

By the time Marek had told them all about his delayed flight from Poland, his family and his football, they were all getting along just fine. And he was as impressed as Roddy to be sharing a room with Luca Perotti's son.

“I want to play for my country like Perotti did for his,” he announced.

Everyone shared that footballing ambition and for a moment they were all quiet as they studied the poster of Italia '90 that Geno had put up over his bed. Then Roddy took charge. “I'm starving,” he said. “Let's go and get tea.”

“Good idea!” said Geno.

Keira was already at a table with a few girls when Roddy and his friends arrived. They went to the servery and loaded their trays with food.

“Hi,” said Keira, when they went across to her table. “Come and join us. There's plenty of room. Did you know that Simon didn't get in, or Polly, the girl I was most friendly with?” she went on, as Roddy and the others sat down. “It's a shame, isn't it?”

Roddy nodded. “But
we
got in,” he said with a broad grin. “By the way, this is Jimmy and Marek. “We're all sharing a room, along with Geno.”

“I've got twins in my room,” said Keira, indicating two identical girls with black hair tightly plaited into cornrows. “Meet demon wingers, Eboni and Ashanti. If you can tell them apart, you're better than me!”

The twins grinned at Roddy. “Hi!” said
Eboni. “We've already heard all about you. Don't you play in midfield, like Keira?”

“Sure do,” Roddy told her. Then he pointed at his roommates. “Back, striker, and striker,” he explained.

“Jess over there is another back,” said the Ashanti, pointing to a blonde girl, who was carrying her tray to a table.

“Which house are you in?” asked Keira

“We're all in Charlton,” said Geno.

“Great!” said Keira. “Let's make Charlton a force to be reckoned with.” She was looking very confident. “Wouldn't it be brilliant if we could carry off the House Cup?”

“You bet!” agreed Ashanti.

“And there's a prize for each year as well,” added Roddy, not to be outdone. “We might win that. We've got to be the best house team ever!”

“Hey, Roddy, you'd make a good captain
with talk like that,” said Geno.

Roddy felt pleased. It would be great if he did make captain, just like in his old school.

But Eboni had other ideas. “I think Keira would make a good captain, too,” she said.

Roddy and Keira looked at each other warily.

“Well,” said Keira, “it doesn't matter who's captain, as long as they keep us on the ball!”

“Quite right,” agreed Roddy, wishing he'd said it first.

He tried to come up with another upbeat remark, but the girls had already finished their tea, and were clattering the dirty dishes onto their trays.

“We're back off to our room now,” said Keira. “See you tomorrow at practice, yeah?”

“Yeah,” said Roddy munching his way through a large slice of pizza. “See you tomorrow.”

After they'd finished eating, the boys returned to their cluttered room.

“Are you always this untidy?” Roddy asked with a grin, wading through a heap of Marek's clothes.

Marek shrugged. “I am a footballer,” he said, as if that explained everything.

When Mr Clutterbuck came in to tell them to go to bed, he was horrified. “Good grief!” he said. “Get all this put away.”

“Good grief!” echoed Marek, once the housemaster had gone. But he picked up most of the clothes, and shoved them into a cupboard. He closed his empty case and stowed it on top of the wardrobe.

“You ought to be a goalie with your height,” said Jimmy admiringly.

But Marek didn't take it as a compliment. “No!” he said fiercely. “I told you before. I am a striker. The best striker in Poland one day!”

He glared at Jimmy, and Jimmy held up his hands in defence.

“OK!” he agreed. “Don't lose your rag. You're going to be a stormin' striker for Poland. I understand.”

“Yes,” said Marek, and he smiled.

Just before they got into bed, Roddy noticed Jimmy pull an old sock furtively out of his drawer and put it under his pillow. It was on the tip of Roddy's tongue to ask what he was doing, but the moment didn't seem right.

He had never shared a room before, and he supposed that everyone must have different habits. Geno had his poster and Marek had a small Polish flag draped over the end of his bed. Roddy had a Welsh flag, as well as a photograph of himself collecting a trophy at primary school. He was going to keep it in his drawer, but then he decided to put it on top of his bedside table. It would remind him that
winning was what it was all about. And if having an old sock under his pillow helped Jimmy in some way, well it was really none of Roddy's business.

There was an early start in the morning. Students had to fit in a full day of classes as well as all the extra football training that came with being at Stadium School. Roddy dragged himself out of bed with the others. He was so keen to get on with his training, he didn't mind losing a bit of sleep, even if he did feel a bit bleary eyed. He couldn't wait to find out what training was going to be like, though he was willing to bet that it would be a lot more serious than at his old school. But he prided himself in being pretty fit, and was sure he'd be able to cope.

The four friends pulled on their new, dark-green tracksuits, and headed across to the
main building for breakfast. It was still quite misty, but it looked as if the sun was going to soon break through.

“Hi, Roddy!” said Keira, who was already queuing up at the hatch.

“Hello,” said Roddy, still half-asleep. “I can't remember the last time I got up this early.”

“It's a pity we can't start training an hour later,” put in Jimmy.

Keira frowned. “Aren't you itching to get out onto the field?” she asked.

“Well, I am, yes,” said Jimmy. “That's true. I'm just not very good at getting up in the morning.”

“You'll get used to it,” she laughed.

As soon as breakfast was over, the students went back to their houses for registration. Mr Clutterbuck handed out timetables to the boys who hadn't been given them the night before. And then half an hour after they had
eaten, everyone was out on the training pitches, peeling off their tracksuits, and all the new students were gathered together in front of the head junior coach, Mr Jenkins.

Mr Jenkins had spotted Roddy at a football summer school in the holidays, and Roddy liked him a lot.

“It's good to see you all again,” said Mr Jenkins. “I'll be your coach for the next three years. Sometimes my colleagues will work with you, but everything that happens in training comes back to me. Now, these morning sessions are short, so we'll mainly be concentrating on fitness. We'll do the more technical training after lessons. Let's start with some laps of the pitch, to see what sort of shape you're in. Follow my lead!”

And with that, he set off at a steady jog along the touchline, with the group strung out behind him. Every now and then, he would
turn and run backwards for a few seconds to see how they were coping with his pace. Soon, they settled into a routine of jogging the lengths, and either sprinting or sidestepping the widths of the pitch.

Mr Jenkins threw in other wrinkles, too, like high knees, or skipping, then he had them all jogging on the spot. Roddy was coping extremely well with the workout, but he was panting hard.

“All right, we'll just do one final thing, as I can see some of you are getting tired. A straight sprint to the other end of the pitch, and don't worry about staying behind me. I want to see who's got anything left in the tank to run with. Three … two … one…”

The line of 50 students and their coach all charged headlong down the pitch, Mr Jenkins surprised everyone by pulling ahead, just before the halfway line.

“Come on! Can't any of you run faster than an old man?” he shouted, as he overtook them.

The squad redoubled their efforts, and by the time they reached the other end of the pitch, a few students, including Roddy and Keira, had caught up with and overtaken the agile coach.

Once he'd got his breath back, Mr Jenkins congratulated them all on a good first session. Everyone who had beaten him in the sprint was given five points for their house, then they all went off to get showered and changed before their first lesson.

“We're the first in our house to win points,” Keira said to Roddy when they met up again after their showers. “Go us!”

Roddy grinned. Keira was right. It
did
feel good.

The Stadium School teachers were pretty good
at making even ordinary lessons interesting. Roddy particularly enjoyed English because they began reading a story about football, which he thought was great.

The morning passed quickly, and by lunchtime, Roddy was starving. He couldn't fault the chicken pie that was served, and there was plenty of it.

“It seems ages since the trial,” he said between mouthfuls.

“I know,” agreed Keira, who was sitting at their table again. “We've hardly been here a day and already I feel really settled. Do you remember that weird tree tunnel over by the old stadium seats?”

“I thought the trees sounded as if they were whispering!” said Roddy. “That whole set-up was crazy, wasn't it?”

“What trees?” asked Marek. “What set-up?”

“Didn't you get to see them on the guided tour?” asked Keira. “We were all taken round in groups.”

Marek nodded. “No,” he said. “My group was the last and there wasn't much time, so we didn't get there.”

“Well, did you know that this school was built on the site of an old football stadium?” said Roddy.

“Of course,” said Marek in a dignified voice. “And I know it was the first stadium that the famous Jon Masters played in.”

“OK,” said Roddy. “Well, he wanted to preserve the tunnel that goes from the dressing rooms to the pitch, but it burnt down.”

“So he planted an avenue of trees there instead,” put in Keira. “And when you play on the Stadium pitch, you have to walk down this sort of tree tunnel.”

“And there's a group of original seats at the end,” said Geno, “that are supposed to be lucky.”

“Why don't we take Marek there?” suggested Roddy. “We've got time before afternoon lessons start.”

“I would like that,” said Marek looking pleased.

“OK, let's go!” said Keira, getting up.

“I'm not sure…” started Jimmy, but Geno interrupted him.

“If we hurry, we'll have time to take him all the way down the tunnel,” he said. “You have to see the pitch, Marek. It's fantastic. Premier League standard. It's only used for important matches, and for the finals of the House Cup.”

They all set off, and in a few minutes reached the changing rooms.