Authors: Cindy Jefferies
Team Player
STADIUM
SCHOOL
WHERE FOOTBALLING DREAMS COME TRUE
Jefferies & Goffe
Map of Stadium School
“Pass it, Roddy!”
It was a very hot afternoon for football. Sweat was trickling down Roddy's face, but he didn't stop to wipe it away.
“To me!”
Roddy was still on the ball, but now he was running into trouble in the form of three Stiles defenders. His team, Charlton, were drawing 0â0, and time was running out to grab a winner.
They were into the final half term of Roddy's first year at Stadium School, a brilliant, specialist boarding school for young footballers. The prestigious House Cup, awarded at the end of term and
desperately coveted by each of the four houses, was still up for grabs. In addition, each year had their own mini version of the cup, and these trophies were fought over just as fiercely as the overall one.
All the Charlton teams had done pretty well this year, and the house was stongly in contention for the House Cup. Roddy and his team-mates wanted Charlton to win it, but at that moment they were all more concerned about securing their own trophy. Stiles and Banks were so far behind on points they were almost out of the running. That left Moore to worry about. Charlton needed every point they could get to see off the threat from their rivals, and it looked as if they were heading for disappointment today. Stiles weren't making it easy for them. They might not be in with a shout for the first-year cup any more, but they could still affect the
overall result, and it wasn't in their nature to concede even one goal without a fight.
Roddy ignored the calls for him to pass the ball. Geno, Roddy's best friend and Charlton's striker, was currently a little off form. That was partly why Roddy decided to drive forward alone. But there was another reason, too. The year was almost over, and he still hadn't realised his ambition to be made captain. Roddy felt so frustrated. He hoped that if he could grab a few more goals then Mr Jenkins, the juniors' coach, would notice him a bit more, and see how much he deserved to wear the armband.
It didn't help that he'd just been sent a text by Bryn Thomas, his best mate from home. Bryn had been made captain of
his
team ages ago, and was crowing about it, asking if Roddy was ever going to manage to make it as captain at Stadium School.
Roddy and Bryn had always been friendly rivals, but the text had really piled on the pressure. He imagined how great it would be to go home for the long summer break with the glory of having been captain, even if it was only for one match. So far, Keira had been captain of the firsts
and
their house team. How could that be right? Keira was great, but Roddy knew he could inspire his fellow players as well as she could. And recently Keira seemed to have lost her captain's touch. Roddy felt certain that he wasn't the only one to feel resentful instead of inspired by some of the remarks she'd been making.
Roddy managed to steer the ball skilfully between two of the oncoming players, and was beginning to hope he'd get a shot on target when the Stiles captain, Jack Carr, tackled him and hoofed it away.
“No
way
are we giving you a chance to score,” grunted the powerful midfielder, as the ball sailed through the air towards Charlton's penalty area. “You can wave goodbye to the first-year cup. If we're not getting it, neither are you.”
“Why didn't you pass?” yelled Keira, on her way to help out the backs. “I was open, and so was Geno. You can't be the hero every game. Now get back and defend!”
Roddy was stung by Keira's words. He'd always prided himself in being the total team player, never hanging onto the ball selfishly when it was better to send it on. Now, when he'd tried for the first time to win through on his own, he was getting shouted at for it. He bit back a withering reply and sprinted to his own half. He was getting seriously fed up with Keira Sanders. Even if she
was
team captain, and his friend, that didn't give her
the right to boss him around. Roddy watched the action from a distance, imagining the match, as he always did, with added commentary.
And the ball is back in the Charlton half, which is not what they want at this stage of the game. Moore's victory against Banks yesterday has put Charlton's lead in the first-year cup under threat, and they can't afford any slip-ups.
Jimmy Piper puts in another fantastic tackle to knock the ball away from the Stiles attacker, but it's picked up by another Stiles player, worked wide to the wing and crossed in. Marek Dvorski in the Charlton goal cuts out the floated cross with ease, and yells at his defence. The towering goalkeeper has been instrumental in his side's refusal to concede; Stiles must feel like they're playing against a brick wall in goal today. Dvorski
motions for his team-mates to push up, then hammers the ball away downfield. Jones gives chase, and reaches it a fraction of a second before Carr, who's done a great job of keeping Jones quiet today. Jones spins on the ball, giving himself space to run into, and now Geno Perotti is screaming for it to be played ahead of him. Jones must surely pass, but no, he's decided to go it alone. Jones is driving forward towards the Stiles goal, but he's caught by Carr and another attack is closed down. That could be the last chance of the match and, yes, there's the whistle. Disappointment for Charlton in a match they would have expected to win, and it's not yet too late for them to give the first-year title away.
The Charlton players trooped into the team-talk room in a foul mood. Marek was already giving his opinion on what he saw as
a lack of effort put in by his defence, loudly and at great length. The defenders were shifting the blame onto Roddy and Keira in midfield for not helping out, and Geno was sitting on his own, as isolated in the changing room as he'd been up front all game.
“Everyone, just be quiet!” shouted Sam Green, their coach. Sam was in her final year at Stadium School, and was managing the first-year Charlton team while she studied for her FA coaching badges. “We didn't play well today, but we've come away with a draw, and that's better than nothing. The first-year cup is still within our reach, we've just got to get through the next two games. One win should do it, but let's try to finish the season in style. If the other years do their bit, we've got a good shot at the House Cup, too, and it'll be us sitting on those lucky seats instead of Moore.”
Stadium School was built on the site of an old Premier League football ground, and the few remaining original seats were considered lucky by most of the students. Only the cup winners were allowed the privilege of sitting on the coveted seats at the Stadium pitch, which was another reason why winning the overall competition was so important.
“But we
won't
win either of the next two games if we can't put the ball in the net,” said Jimmy, looking at Geno as he spoke. “We can't keep clean sheets every game. You need to score a goal now and again to help us out.”
“I would, if I ever saw the ball,” replied Geno hotly. “How am I meant to do anything if you lot don't pass it?”
“Don't blame me,” said Keira. “I wasn't seeing much of the ball today, either.” She glared at Roddy, and then included the rest
of the team in her look. “I mean, Stiles were all over us. We need to buck up our ideas. People must stop being selfish, and increase their work rate, too.”
“You're wrong, Keira,” interrupted Roddy. “It's not lack of effort that's the problem. Everyone's trying as hard as ever. When things go badly, you need to bring us together as a team, not just criticise us.”
Keira looked a bit surprised at Roddy's outburst, but quickly regained her composure. “Well, anyway, if we can beat Banks in our next match then we don't need to worry about playing Moore. Maybe they'll have to give us a guard of honour instead!”
The idea of the Moore players having to stand in line and applaud as they walked onto the pitch for the last game of the season was an appealing one, and it cheered everyone up. But first Charlton had to start
playing better again, and beat Banks in the next game.
“That's the spirit!” said Sam. “Now I'm off for tea before it's all gone. Hurry up and get showered if you don't want to miss out!”
“Is that right, what Sam said?” Geno wondered aloud. “Will we really win the first-year cup if we beat Banks?”
Jimmy looked up from picking mud out of his studs. “What do you reckon, Marek?”
The goalie shrugged. “I don't know,” he said. “Roddy?”
Roddy thought for a second, under the questioning gaze of his roommates. “I'm not absolutely sure. The points are a bit complicated. Because of the 25-point goal bonus, I guess it's never really over until the last game, but we're 300 points ahead of Moore now. If we both win our next game by the same amount, they'll need to beat us by
three clear goals to take the title. 250 points for the win, and 25 for each goal would be a 325-point swing. But we're not going to let that happen, are we?”
“No way,” replied Geno. “But I'd better find my form again, hadn't I?” He was looking worried, but gave Roddy a smile anyway. “Come on,” he said. “You lot are taking ages. Last one to tea has to share his pudding!”
Despite what Sam and Keira had said, the main topic of discussion at tea that night among the Charlton first years was their poor performance in the match. Even on the way back to the boarding house, Roddy and Geno were still at it.
