On the Spot (4 page)

Stephen Mbeki, Charlton's defensive midfielder takes the free kick and plays it short to Sanders, who passes it to Jones. Jones knocks the ball up to Perotti, who does well to hold off two defenders and play it back towards Jones. Jones runs on to the ball and drives a low shot in from the edge of the area. The keeper dives for it, but the ball slides under his body and into the back of the net. 2–1 to Charlton!

Roddy glanced at Mr Jenkins, who was
standing on the touchline. He was talking to David, the Charlton House captain, but was it about Roddy, or just the match? Roddy put it to the back of his mind, and went back to his own half for the kickoff.

Charlton will want to sit tight and hold on to the win. Going for another goal isn't worth the risk and, with the minutes ticking away, they'll fancy their chances of keeping ten-man Stiles out. They're getting everyone behind the ball to try and keep defence tight, and it appears to be working.

Chris Wood, the Stiles midfielder, hits a screamer of a shot in from long range, but Dvorski is equal to it and makes another magnificent save. He's really kept Charlton in the game today. You wouldn't believe it's his first match playing in goal. Dvorski hoofs it down the pitch, the ref checks his watch and it's all over. Charlton have turned it round in
the second half and won the game. Stiles will feel let down by their captain, but credit has to go to Charlton for a bold performance.

The Charlton players all gathered round Marek, showering him with praise. The stand-in keeper tried to brush off the attention, but he was definitely the hero of the hour.

“You were brilliant,” said Roddy, slapping Marek on his back.

“But
you
scored the winning goal.” replied Marek. “
I
was only the keeper.”

Roddy and Marek were up early on Monday morning, and even beat Mr Jenkins onto the field for their training session.

“Fancy taking a few shots on goal while we're waiting?” said Marek. “I'll try saving them, if you like.”

“You're really getting into your keeping, aren't you?” said Roddy, as they made their way to the closest set of posts.

“It's fun!” laughed Marek. “I'm not sure it beats
scoring
goals, but it's great being the last line of defence and pulling off a good save. I didn't think I would, but I really enjoyed the match on Saturday. And Jack's face was hilarious when he was sent off.”

Roddy sent a scorcher of a ball towards Marek, who fell on his knees to capture it. “You'll have to do better than that,” he laughed triumphantly, throwing the ball back.

“Let's have a go,” said Keira, who had just arrived with the twins.

“All right. Headers and volleys,” replied Roddy, chipping the ball towards Eboni.

Eboni ran to meet the ball and smashed it goalwards with her left foot, but Marek pulled off another stunning save.

As more of the year arrived, a game developed, and everyone was a little disappointed when Mr Jenkins arrived and set them to doing proper training drills. Not so long ago, Roddy would have struggled to play an energetic game then do a training session afterwards, but Mr Jenkins's emphasis on fitness and stamina was really working.
Roddy's times for running laps of the pitch were getting better and better, and the cool January sunshine kept him at a comfortable temperature as he ran.

On the way to the changing rooms after the practice session, Mr Jenkins cornered Marek. By the time he got under the shower, everyone else was changed, but his friends were waiting for him in the team-talk room.

“What did Mr Jenkins want?” asked Roddy, when Marek appeared.

“You're not going to believe this,” said Marek. “He reckons I ought to consider training as a goalie for the first team.”

“Really?” Keira thought about it. “Well, you do seem to have the talent for it.”

“I'm helping out Charlton, and that's fine, but I don't want to be a goalie for ever,” said Marek.

“But you're so good at it!” said Jimmy.

“That's not the point!” said Marek. He glared at Jimmy. “I'm a striker, aren't I? I'm not going to abandon that. I've always wanted to be a striker, and that's what I'm going to be when I turn professional.”

“OK, OK,” laughed Jimmy, lifting his hands. “Don't blow your top. Everyone knows you're a striker. So what did you say?”

“I reminded him that I was a striker,” Marek said seriously.

“Oh, Marek, really. You
are
an idiot,” laughed Geno. “You did so well in the House Cup match,
and
you've got the height. You should go for it.”

“You're only saying that because you're a striker, like me.” Marek sounded cross. “You want the glory of scoring all the goals with me out of the way.”

Geno looked shocked. “No way,” he insisted. “I'd love to be more of an all-rounder.
And goalkeepers are always in demand. Any team would be pleased to have someone in the squad who plays up front, but is also handy as a keeper. It wouldn't have to be your main position.”

“But that's the problem!” said Marek. “The school's got plenty of forwards and a shortage of keepers, and I think Mr Jenkins wants me to sacrifice my career as a striker and be a goalie full time!” Then he gathered his kit and stomped off.

Roddy and Geno exchanged glances. “He'd probably get on well with Mr Roberts,” said Geno. “They've both had a sense-of-humour bypass!”

“He does take things very seriously,” agreed Keira. “You'd think he'd have been flattered that Mr Jenkins even suggested it.”

For the next few days, Marek kept well away from goal while Mr Jenkins was
around, but Roddy noticed that he was still enjoying keeping for Sam at the Charlton House training sessions. And they had a tough match against Moore coming up in less than two weeks, so it was just as well. Despite their healthy lead over the other first-year teams, Charlton was behind Moore in the competition overall. Moore had won the House Cup last year, but this time things were so tight that every goal counted.

A couple of days later, before training, Mr Jenkins cornered Marek as he and Roddy emerged from the changing rooms.

“Hang on a minute, Marek, can I have a word?” he said. “I'd like you to have a short session with Mr Roberts today.”

Marek stopped dead. Roddy could see him working himself up to an angry reply, but Mr Jenkins got there first.

“I know you keep saying that you don't have any ambition to be a goalkeeper,” he said. “But you're currently playing that position in the House Cup. All the other goalies get special training, and Charlton shouldn't miss out. You might find you pick up some useful tips.”

Marek opened his mouth and then shut it again. He still hadn't managed to say anything by the time Mr Jenkins walked away.

Roddy nudged him in the ribs. “Come on then,
goalie
,” he teased. “Where's your multi-coloured shirt?”

“Shut up,” said Marek. “I'm not a goalkeeper. I'm…”

“You need it tattooed on your forehead, so people don't forget,” Roddy said. He lifted his hand and began to trace the letters on his friends head. “S… T… R… I…”

“Get off!” snarled Marek.

After their run, Marek did as he was told and trained with Mr Roberts. When he finally came over to join everyone, he was looking rather muddy, but quite content.

“How'd it go?” asked Roddy.

Marek's mood changed immediately. He looked suspiciously at Roddy before admitting, “OK.” Then he jogged over to Stephen Mbeki and started talking to him.

Roddy shrugged and went to see Keira.

“What's up with him?” she asked.

Roddy frowned. “I made the mistake of teasing him about being a goalkeeper, and he didn't like it,” he said.

“Well, mind you don't upset him,” she warned. “We need him happy and in top form for our match against Moore.”

“Don't worry,” said Roddy. “He'll come round.” Then they both went their separate
ways to shower and change before the normal school day took over.

After training that afternoon, they had some free time, and Roddy challenged Jimmy to a game of pool. They were about to set off back to their boarding house when Roddy paused. “Have you seen Marek?” he asked, wondering if he wanted to play pool, too.

“He's over there, look.” Jimmy pointed to the field.

He was right. Marek hadn't gone in like everyone else. He was still out practising his shooting skills, with a half-empty net of balls by his feet. Time after time, he would spot a ball, take a run up, and aim for the goal.

Roddy watched for a few moments. Marek was really pushing himself. He was obviously trying to reach the top-right corner of the net. He got a couple on target, but several
times he hit the woodwork, and a few shots missed entirely. It was going to be a pain collecting up all the balls again. For a moment, Roddy thought about offering to help. But he'd just had a shower, and got changed. It was a chilly day and he was looking forward to his game of pool.

“Leave him to it,” urged Jimmy. “He'll come in when he's had enough.”

“I suppose,” agreed Roddy. “But what's he doing it for? He doesn't usually spend extra time out there.”

There was something strange going on, and Roddy was determined to get to the bottom of it.

At weekends, some people went out for the day with parents or relations. Roddy's family lived too far away for that, so he always stayed in school, but on the next Sunday, Marek was collected by his cousin. When he came back, he was grinning.

“Look at this!” he said, coming into the common room and unrolling a large, Polish flag. “My cousin got it for me. I hope I can watch the match on TV tonight. It's a big game for my country.”

“Great!” said Roddy enthusiastically. “Let's hang up the flag somewhere in here.”

“Did you have a nice time with your cousin?” asked Geno.

“Yes,” said Marek. “His wife cooked a Polish meal, and it was delicious. Much better than English food.”

Gino noticed the look on his face and laughed. “I think you just made a joke,” he said.

“Maybe,” said Marek, with a slight smile.

There was a good crowd to watch Poland's match against Latvia, and most people were supporting Marek's country. Mr Clutterbuck came in to watch the second half, and there was a nail-biting finish. A huge groan went up from everyone when Poland gave away a penalty, but the shot went wide, and they just managed to pull off a win.

“Is your cousin keen on football?” asked Roddy, as they went upstairs to bed.

Marek spread the flag over his duvet before getting in. “Oh, yes!” he said. “In fact…” he paused, and looked serious. “He
says he's coming to watch me play in the match against Leeds.”

“Lucky you,” said Roddy enthusiastically.