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  “Yeah, well that was ages ago,” Jimmy blushed at the memory.

  The day before the match, Keira sat beside Roddy at breakfast. “It’s so much nicer not being captain,” she said. “I hope you don’t regret taking on the job.”

  “No way!” Roddy grinned. “It’s hard work and loads of pressure, but I don’t regret it. Not one bit.”

  That evening, Geno came up to Roddy at the boarding house. “D’you fancy a bit of a kickabout?” he asked. He was holding a football and carrying his boots.

  Roddy put down the magazine he was trying to read. He was so fired up about the match, he couldn’t concentrate on it anyway. “Sure thing,” he agreed at once. “Shall I round up some of the others?”

  Geno shook his head. “They’re watching the replay of that Premier League match,” he said. “Besides, I’d rather it was just us. If you don’t mind.”

  “Of course not,” said Roddy. “It’ll be fun.”

  The sun was low in the sky when they went out to the practice goal. “Just a gentle run around,” Roddy warned Geno. “We don’t want to pull a muscle or anything now.”

  They practised a bit of passing, and tried some shots. Geno hoofed a beauty into the top-right corner.

  “No goalie would have got to that one,” said Roddy admiringly.

  After half an hour, Geno was happy to call it a day. “Thanks for that,” he told his friend. “I just needed to remind myself that I can do it. I feel better now. And with you as captain, the atmosphere in the team is so much more positive.”

  “It’s not just down to me,” said Roddy. “It was just time for a change, I think, and it’s fantastic Keira actually wanted to hand over. It would have been awful if she hadn’t.”

  “All we have to do now is win,” said Geno lightly.

  “Yep,” agreed Roddy with a smile. “That’s all!”

  9. Final Match

  The following morning dragged like never before, but eventually the bell went for lunch. Roddy gathered the team around their big table, and made sure they all ate plenty of carbohydrates for the slow-release energy they’d need. The few afternoon lessons gave them a chance to digest their meal, and then it was time for the match. Roddy was the most nervous he had been all year. Like all the final games of the competition, it was being played on the Stadium pitch, and loads of students would be turning out to watch.

  Roddy sat on the bench next to Geno as he laced up his boots. “Don’t worry about goals,” he said. “They’ll come. Just keep finding good positions, and let me and Keira feed the ball to you.”

  Geno grinned. “I’m not worried any more. I just hope Marek’s not too shaken after letting in five last week.”

  “You know Marek,” said Roddy. “He’ll be fine. He’ll have convinced himself that they were all our fault. Since deciding that his change from striker to goalie was the right one, he’s been so full of confidence.”

  “Now!” said Sam, before Geno could reply. “This is it. It’s all or nothing. Moore have already won the House Cup, and Charlton’s season relies on you. You’re our only chance of winning a trophy this year. We can’t let them score, or we’ll need two to win it, so I want a strong defence today, and try to grab a goal on the counterattack. That means Eboni and Ashanti helping out Jess and Mike at full-back, and Roddy and Keira dropping deep into midfield to help Stephen. Hopefully Moore will tire themselves out attacking, then we can overrun them at the end. We’re a better side, and today is the day to prove it. A win will give us the first-year cup. I know you can do it. Charlton for ever!”

  “Charlton for ever!” came the chorus from the team, followed by the clatter of football boots on the tiled floor of the team-talk room as they jogged out to meet their opponents.

  It was a perfect day for such an important game; hazy cloud was blocking the glare of the sun, and keeping the temperature warm but not stifling.

  Moore and Charlton jogged down the avenue of trees towards the pitch, masked from the crowd by the dense foliage until they emerged by the lucky seats. Roddy was the first to touch the nearest seat for good fortune, and every other player followed suit. An approving roar went up from the crowd, particularly the Moore fans, who had enjoyed the privilege of sitting in them for the past year.

  The Charlton fans were clustered on the opposite side of the pitch, with the neutral Banks and Stiles supporters in between.

  The teams emerge onto the pitch, and Charlton know that only a win is good enough today. Moore will take the cup with a draw, but no doubt they’ll be trying to win in style, so it should be an entertaining match. Charlton have been in all sorts of trouble recently, but word is that the dressing-room disputes have been resolved with the promotion of Jones to captain.

  The referee checks his watch, and the match is underway, accompanied by a roar from the crowd. As we expected, Moore are certainly not playing for a draw, and have come flying out of the blocks today. The Charlton midfield trio of Sanders, Jones and Mbeki are working hard to contain the threat, but their solid defensive work is leaving Perotti isolated up front once again. The striker’s goal drought looks set to continue if the midfield can’t link up with him, but Charlton seem more concerned with keeping things tight at the back, and nicking a goal on the counter.

  Moore’s full-backs are pushing forward to add weight to their attack, but Mbeki reads the game brilliantly to intercept a pass and suddenly the break is on. Mbeki to Sanders, to the new captain, Jones. Jones looks up and sees Perotti making a run through the defence. Jones lofts a peach of a pass for Perotti to run on to, breaking the offside trap wide open. Perotti is one on one with the keeper, Larsson comes out to meet him, and surely Perotti must score… No! Denied by the goalie’s fingertips, and the loose ball is hacked away by Polly Ratcliffe in the Moore defence. A good chance goes begging for Charlton, and that could prove costly by the final whistle. It’s a lucky let-off for Moore.

  “Don’t worry, Geno!” shouted Roddy encouragingly. “You’ll get more chances.”

  The play settles down again to a pattern of Moore’s relentless attacks breaking on the solid Charlton defence. Dvorski hasn’t had to make a save of note, and has just been clearing up any stray passes that make it through the defence. Charlton are working hard and don’t look like they’re going to concede, but 0–0 is no good to them. As halftime approaches, they begin to push forward, hoping to exploit Moore’s tired legs.

  Sanders spreads the ball out wide to Eboni Nagel, who goes bounding down the left wing. George McInnes, the Moore full-back, can’t match her blistering pace, and she’s clear behind the defence. The rest of the Charlton team are streaming forward in support, and Nagel cuts the ball back to Jones. Jones threads it through to Perotti, but Ratcliffe is there to pinch the ball before he can get a shot away. Suddenly it’s Charlton who are exposed, and Ratcliffe hoofs the ball downfield to Mohammed Shariff. Shariff evades the challenge of Mbeki, and passes it forwards to Finnegan. Finnegan draws Piper out of position, then knocks the ball to Bullard, who unleashes a piledriver at the Charlton goal. Dvorski can’t get to it, and Bullard wheels away in celebration. 1–0 to Moore, and does this spell the end of Charlton’s hopes of cup glory for another year? It’s time for the new captain to earn his armband.

  The Moore supporters were cheering wildly, and the Charlton team looked deflated. Floating over the ground came the sound of Jack taunting, “Losers! Losers!”

  Roddy was trying to raise everyone’s spirits, but on the touchline Sam’s shoulders had slumped the instant the ball hit the back of the net. With only a minute or so until the break, she had to start working out how they were going to turn this game around.

  The match had barely restarted before the ref blew his whistle, and the team trudged into the team-talk room to regroup.

  “All is not lost,” began Sam. “Two goals in a half is possible, we just need to convert our chances. You did brilliantly to hold them for as long as you did, but now it’s all or nothing. We’ve got to go out there and
attack; the Charlton way. It’s the last game of the season, so enjoy yourselves, and let’s get some goals.”

  “I need more support up front,” said Geno. “The few times I’ve got the ball there’s been nobody to pass to, so we end up losing it again.”

  “Absolutely,” agreed Sam. “You’re right. Keira and Roddy, you have free roles this half. Roam around wherever you want, cause problems for the defence the way you did earlier in the season. Stephen, you’ll need to stay back and help out the defence still, but our front five should be able to create plenty of chances. If we attack right from the whistle, they won’t know what’s hit them before we’ve scored. Now, let’s do it! Charlton for ever!”

  “Charlton for ever,” echoed Roddy. “Let’s just go out and play football, no pressure. If we play our natural game we can’t help but score goals, and once we get one back, Moore will fall apart. It’s time to have some fun!”

  10. All or Nothing

  The ref blows his whistle to get the second half of this cup decider underway. Charlton kick off, and immediately they look more threatening. The Nagel twins are taking up much more advanced positions on the flanks, and Sanders slides the ball out to Ashanti on the right. She takes the ball past the full-back and plays it in towards Geno Perotti. The pass goes slightly behind him, but Jones is there to collect the loose ball. He thinks about shooting, but instead rolls the ball neatly to Perotti. Perotti has time to steady himself before shooting… Goal! Placed calmly in the bottom corner with his left foot, beyond the reach of Larsson. Moore haven’t even touched the ball. It’s a fantastic start for Charlton. Game on!

  “Geno! Geno! Geno!” came the chant from the Charlton supporters.

  Geno ran over and high-fived Roddy. “Thanks!” he said with relief. “It feels good to score again.”

  “I told you it was only a matter of time, didn’t I?” replied Roddy, clapping him on the back. “Come on, we’ve got a cup to win.”

  That goal puts Charlton back in the game, but they still need another to clinch the contest. A draw is enough for Moore, but faced with this strong Charlton attack, they will be keen to re-establish their goal cushion. And this aggressive play from Charlton will leave them vulnerable at the back, so we should see a thrilling end to what has been a great season of football.

  Both teams were pushing hard for a second goal, and both Tom Larsson and Marek were tested several times. Sam was bounding up and down the touchline shouting advice and encouragement, as was Moore’s coach, and the crowd were really enjoying the thrilling end-to-end action.

  Again, Charlton throw players forward, but the move breaks down on the edge of Moore’s penalty area as Sanders misplaces a pass. Shariff surges forward into the empty midfield, with several options ahead of him. Mbeki is caught in two minds and fails to close him down, and Shariff bursts into the area. Piper slides in with a desperate challenge, but Shariff skips over the tackle. Dvorski comes out to meet him, but Shariff’s silky skills take the ball past him and roll the ball gently into the net. That was a fantastic solo effort from the Moore midfielder, and Charlton have it all to do again.

  Marek hoofed the ball back towards the centre circle, and Roddy moved to take the kickoff with Geno. “Two more then, mate,” he said while they waited for the Moore players to get back to their own half. “We can do it.”

  “Easy,” grinned Geno, full of confidence now his barren run was over.

  The Moore supporters had been cheering at their side’s goal, leaving the Charlton fans silent, but then a senior in Sam’s year yelled out. “3–2! We’re gonna win 3–2!”

  A smattering of amused laughter came from the crowd, and the chant was picked up by the rest of the Charlton fans. Soon it was echoing around the field. “3–2! We’re gonna win 3–2!”

  The supporters confidence made Roddy smile. He looked around at his team-mates, and saw the determination in their faces. They hadn’t worked so hard all year just to let it slip away in the final game.

  Charlton kick off needing two goals again, and time is not on their side. Moore are sitting back and defending, confident that their lead will be enough to secure the points. Now Bullard is subbed off, leaving Finnigan up front on his own as Moore pack the defence. Charlton are pressing hard for the equaliser, but picking a pass through the maze of bodies is going to be very hard. Perotti is being closely marked at all times, and the Moore defence are happy to just hoof the ball away to run down the clock.

  Mbeki collects the ball after another hefty clearance from Ratcliffe, and chooses to play it out wide to Eboni Nagel. Nagel shifts it back in to Sanders, who tries a speculative effort from distance. Her shot is blocked, but the rebound falls to Perotti, who crashes the volley right into the roof of the net. Fantastic strike from the young Italian, and once again Charlton are in with a shout. Two goals apiece with only two minutes left on the clock.

  Geno ran to collect the ball out of the net to restart as fast as possible. The whole team was buzzing, and the fans were erupting.

  “Come on!” shouted Sam from the touchline. “You can do it!”

  Moore kick off, and will look to waste time however they can, running the ball towards the corner flag and taking as long as possible over goal kicks, but Charlton are in the ascendancy now. Mbeki intercepts yet another pass, and strides forward before passing to Jones. Jones notices an onrushing defender, and plays the ball to Sanders. Sanders gives it straight back to Jones, and now he’s got space to push into. The ref is looking at his watch. Only a couple of defenders separate Jones and the goal, and he gets his head down and starts to run. The first defender is beaten purely by power and pace, the second by a cheeky nutmeg, and Jones is into the penalty area. Larsson comes off his line and forces him out wide. Surely it’s too tight an angle for Jones to score from now, but he spins to shield the ball from the diving keeper, and he’s almost on the touchline. Jones chips the ball across the goal without having time to look up, and Perotti is there! He heads the ball firmly into the open net, and charges off down the pitch with outstretched arms. Left foot, right foot, and now one with his head; Geno Perotti has sealed a perfect hat trick, and Charlton have stolen the cup! That was a true team goal to finish off a great match and an incredible season.

  The Charlton fans were celebrating, yelling their heads off. The noise was deafening, but it was the sweetest sound Roddy had heard all year. And then a figure he recognised was coming onto the pitch, accompanied by the headmaster. Roddy looked at Geno, but his friend seemed even more astonished than he was. Because there, strolling out with a big grin on his face was Geno’s dad, holding the first-year cup. Geno caught Roddy’s eye and they grinned at each other.

  Sam quickly gathered the team together in the centre circle, and lined them up ready to shake Luca’s hand. Roddy had seen trophy ceremonies lots of times on TV, but had never before taken part in one that was so professionally run.

  “What a fantastic game,” said Luca into a microphone that had been quickly set up on the pitch. “Both teams played some amazing football, but in the end, there can only be one winner. This year’s first-year champions are … Charlton House!”

  A massive cheer erupted from the crowd, with even Jack and the other Moore fans showing their respect for the victors. Luca moved along the line shaking everyone’s hand and giving them a few words of congratulation and encouragement. Roddy didn’t see him spend any extra time with Geno, but there was definitely a special warmth to the smile and the handshake given to his hat-trick hero son.

  As captain, Roddy was the last in line. “Well played,” Luca said as he shook his hand. “That was a very mature performance. You played for the team, and set up all three goals. I’d follow you as captain any day.”

  Roddy glowed with pride. He wanted to thank Geno’s dad for all his advice the other day, but already the cup was being thrust into his hands. Resisting the urge to raise it above his head immediately, he beckoned Keira and Geno over to share in the glory. Keira and Roddy grabbed a handle
each, and Geno supported the base. As the trio held it aloft, the cheers from the crowd grew even greater and, just for a moment, Roddy pictured himself lifting the World Cup for Wales.

  The cup was passed around the rest of the team, and then Marek lifted Geno up onto his shoulders and ran off towards the Charlton fans, whooping with delight. It really was just the way Roddy had always imagined it could be.

  Amid all the chaos, Mr Jenkins appeared. Roddy looked at him in surprise. “I thought you were ill!” he blurted out.

  Mr Jenkins laughed. “I haven’t been at all well,” he agreed. “But I’m feeling much better now. I’ll be back at school next week, but I couldn’t miss this match, could I?”

  “No way!” agreed Roddy, delighted that his coach had been there to witness their victory.

  “You gave an inspirational performance, Roddy,” said Mr Jenkins. “Sam made an excellent choice in making you captain. Keep it up next year and you might be captain of the first team, too. And congratulations on being the only Charlton team to pick up a trophy. I’ll look forward to seeing your progress through the school over the next few years.”

  Roddy’s day could hardly have got any better, and it wasn’t over yet. It was time for the team photo. They all lined up, Roddy in the middle as captain, with Keira and Geno at his sides. Marek and Jimmy were behind them with the other tall players. Sam and Mr Jenkins stood to the left, looking delighted.

  Roddy was grinning broadly as the cameraman took the photos. It was a genuine smile, not his usual school-photo expression. What’s more, he knew that over the summer holidays the picture would be put up in the main hall of the school. On the wall of reigning champions, it would be there at the start of term for the next intake of first years to aspire to.

  Roddy couldn’t wait to take a copy home for his parents. But it wasn’t only his family he wanted to show the photograph to. As soon as he got home, he’d be rushing round to meet Bryn Thomas. Not only would Bryn see that Roddy had made captain at last; Roddy’s team had won the cup, and Roddy’s footballing dreams were coming true.