On the Spot Read online

  STADIUM SCHOOL

  WHERE FOOTBALLING DREAMS COME TRUE

  On the Spot

  Jefferies & Goffe

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Map of Stadium School

  1. Keeper Crisis

  2. Desperate Measures

  3. A Big Surprise

  4. A Nail-biting Match

  5. A Big Shock

  6. Marek Owns Up

  7. A Difficult Time

  8. Bad News

  9. Marek’s Dilemma

  10. The Big Match

  11. Second Half

  Imprint

  Map of Stadium School

  1. Keeper Crisis

  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.

  “See you later,” he told Geno.

  Geno waved vaguely with his fork. It was pasta, his favourite, and he wasn’t about to hurry.

  Roddy caught up with Marcel outside, and fell into step with him.

  “I’m sorry life’s a pain at the moment,” he said. “You’ve got a double whammy, what with Roberts and having to share with those three.”

  Marcel shrugged. “Brett and Andy aren’t so bad when they’re not with Jack,” he said.

  “Well, if you want to try and move rooms again, I’ll go with you to see Mr Clutterbuck,” Roddy offered awkwardly.

  Marcel looked at him in surprise. “What good would that do?” he asked. “He’s already told me there’s nowhere to go.”

  Now it was Roddy’s turn to shrug. “We could suggest putting an extra bed in our room.”

  “Clutterbuck’s not going to do that!” said Marcel. “There’d hardly be any floor space.”

  “Well, there must be something we can do,” said Roddy, trying to think. “We can still go and see him – explain what a pain Jack is. He’ll do something when he realises.”

  “No,” said Marcel. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It does,” insisted Roddy. “We’re both in the same house. We play for the same team. Charltonites should stick together.”

  Marcel stopped walking. “No,” he said flatly. “It really doesn’t matter.”

  “But…” Roddy spread his arms wide. “I want to help!”

  “It’s too late,” said Marcel. He looked round to see if anyone was listening. “I don’t want this to get out. Promise you won’t say anything?”

  “Of course,” said Roddy. “What is it?”

  “I’m leaving on Friday,” said Marcel. “My parents are coming to pick me up.”

  Roddy stared. He couldn’t believe his ears. Marcel was leaving Stadium School at the end of the first week of term!

  “It’s not just Jack,” said Marcel, seeing Roddy’s expression. “I’m not sure I’m cut out to be a professional footballer after all. I miss my family and, oh, lots of things. I don’t even like the food very much.”

  “I can’t believe it!” said Roddy.

  Marcel looked fierce. “Don’t say anything to anyone. If this gets out, people will go on and on about it, and Jack will make my last two nights an absolute misery. I mean it. If you tell anyone, I’ll kill you.”

  “Don’t worry,” said Roddy. “I’ll keep it to myself. But … I’m sorry you’re going.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t see my future spending hours in the shower cleaning mud off myself,” said Marcel. “I really enjoyed football when it was just a game, but here it’s too serious. There’s more to life, you know?” He smiled sadly. “But that’s just what I think. You’re seriously good. So stick at it. And maybe I’ll come and see you some time, when you’re playing an international against France, and I’m working in an office or something.”

  Roddy chuckled. “Yeah, right,” he said. “Here’s hoping.”

  Just then, Marek and Jimmy appeared round the corner of the building.

  “Don’t forget,” Marcel warned.

  “Don’t worry,” said Roddy. “You can count on me.”

  Marcel hurried away and Roddy waited for his friends to catch him up.

  “What did Marcel want?” asked Jimmy, dribbling a loose stone along the path.

  “Oh, nothing,” Roddy said. “He was just telling me how he doesn’t like pasta very much.”

  Marek looked as if he was going to laugh, but the expression on Roddy’s face stopped him. “What’s the matter?”

  Roddy tried to shrug it off, but his mind was working overtime. Now, suddenly, he realised that they wouldn’t just have an off-form goalie for the match against Stiles next week. It was worse than that, much worse. This time next week, they wouldn’t have a goalie at all.

  2. Desperate Measures

  It was terrible for Roddy, not being able to discuss what he knew with his Charlton team-mates, especially Keira. As their captain, she would be appalled when she found out. Stadium School was small, and it was hard enough trying to muster full house teams without a vital student leaving. Roddy wondered what Sam, the senior who coached their team, would do.

  Roddy’s head was filled with Charlton’s goalkeeping problem every spare minute. On his way to French the next day, he considered the backs. Would one of them be any good in goal? Jimmy had the size, but he wasn’t very agile, and Jess was lacking in height, if not courage. Besides, if either of those two became goalie, the team would miss their brilliant defending. The Charlton match against Stiles was the following Saturday, but there was hardly time to sort anything out. First-team training took precedence over house practices, and Mr Jenkins was scheduling extra sessions to get them ready for their first match against Leeds in just over five weeks’ time.

  In order to help the squad gel, that afternoon Mr Jenkins led them all on a jog around the lake. Despite the chilly weather, it was good to be running somewhere other than round the pitches for a change. Roddy and Geno were jogging steadily near the back of the group and, as they passed a puddle side by side, Geno deliberately stamped into the water, sending a jet shooting up Roddy’s leg. Geno flashed a cheeky grin at his friend, before putting his head down and setting off at full speed, with an indignant Roddy in hot pursuit.

  Marcel had been running alone, just behind the pair, panting a little. As a goalkeeper, he wasn’t used to running for more than a couple of minutes during matches. He had just dropped his pace, when Jack Carr barged past him, sending him staggering towards the muddy edge of the lake. Unlike Geno, who had been fooling around, Jack had clearly meant to upset the French boy.

  Marcel squelched out of the mud and resumed his half-hearted run at the back of the squad as Jack sprinted off, laughing.

  Marcel managed to keep his secret until the Friday afternoon, when he began to pack. It was Jack who found him, stuffing the last of his belongings into a suitcase. Roddy’s heart sank as he heard the bully crashing along the corridor, shouting the news to each room.

  Geno looked up from his book. “What is that idiot on about now? We don’t care about his latest scandal.”

  The next moment, Jack burst in, flinging the door open so hard that it hit the wall. “Guess what!” he shouted. “Temperley is running away from school!”

  Marek looked at him disapprovingly. “Not interested,” he said.

  Jack laughed. “Well, you should be,” he said. “What’s your precious Charlton team going to do without a goalie?”

  That got Marek’s attention, and Geno’s and Jimmy’s as well.

  “What are you on about?” said Jimmy, looking alarmed.

  “Poor little Marcel is too much of a baby to cope,” said Jack nastily. “So he’s running away! Honestly. He’s packed up all his stuff. How spineless is that? He’s leaving his teammates in the lurch! Not that I care…”

  “He’s not running away,” said Roddy quietly. “His parents are coming to collect
him. It’s all arranged.”

  Now everyone was staring at Roddy.

  “You knew?” said Jimmy. “You should have told us. We’ve got a match next week. Sam will need to sort out who to put in goal!”

  “You should have told us,” said Geno angrily.

  “I couldn’t!” said Roddy. “Marcel made me promise not to.”

  Jack was still there, taking it all in, and clearly loving every minute.

  “Clear off, Carr!” said Marek angrily. “This is nothing to do with you.” He pushed Jack out of the door and slammed it shut. “Now,” he said, turning to Roddy. “What’s going on?”

  Roddy aimed a kick at the leg of his bed in frustration. “It’s not my fault,” he said. “Now it’s out in the open, instead of blaming me, why don’t we go and find Sam. As our coach, she’s the one who really needs to know.”

  “Couldn’t you have persuaded Marcel to stay?” said Jimmy. “It’s going to be hell defending with no goalie.”

  Roddy gave him a withering look.

  Geno fished under his bed for his trainers, and started to put them on. “Roddy’s right,” he said. “We need to tell Sam.”

  The four friends hurried over to the girls’ boarding house. Sam could be anywhere on a Friday, now lessons had finished, but maybe someone would know where she was.

  Roddy rang the bell, and they waited impatiently. But they were in luck. The girl who answered the door told them that Sam was in, and after a few minutes, their coach came out to see them.

  “What’s the problem?” she asked.

  “We’re in deep trouble,” Roddy told her gloomily. “Our goalie’s doing a bunk.”

  “No way!” said Sam. “Hang on, I’ll just go and get Keira. She needs to be in on this.”

  Moments later, Sam reappeared with the Charlton captain in tow, and the girls listened as Roddy explained what had happened.

  “That certainly is bad news,” Sam agreed. “But we mustn’t let it throw us.”

  “It’s a disaster!” said Geno.