Team Player (5 page)

Geno stared at Roddy, looking puzzled. “Whatever gave you that idea?” he said. “Why would I complain about you?”

Roddy took a deep breath. This
disagreement would never get sorted unless he was honest. “Maybe because you don't think I've been passing to you enough?” he said. “I heard you talking to your dad,” he added accusingly. “When I came to ask if you wanted to play table tennis the other day, you were mouthing off about me to him.”

Geno frowned, then he looked angry. “Don't you ever talk stuff through with your parents?” he demanded. “I was asking my dad's advice about the
team
, because we're in trouble, and he's been through that sort of thing himself.” He glared at Roddy. “How could you possibly imagine I'd go running to Mr Jenkins about you not passing? Why would I complain?
I'm
the one having a dry run.
I'm
the one off form, and we need every goal we can get. I don't blame
you
for trying to score by yourself, not really.”

Roddy sighed. Now he felt terrible. Not only had he got it wrong about the phone call, he hadn't exactly helped Geno to feel better about his scoring abilities. This wasn't the way to go about being a good friend, or promising captain material. He gave Geno a lopsided smile. “Sorry,” he said awkwardly. “I was being stupid. Friends?”

“Friends,” Geno agreed.

“And you'll get your form back,” Roddy added encouragingly. “Believe it and it'll happen. Honestly. Let's shake on it.”

Geno put out his hand and Roddy shook it. A slow smile crossed his friend's face. “Great!” he said. “I'm so pleased we're friends again, because I have some good news for you.”

“What's that?” asked Roddy. With the team doing so badly he couldn't imagine what it could be.

“My dad's coming to take me out to lunch next Saturday,” Geno grinned.

Roddy felt a leap of excitement. Maybe there would be a chance to meet Geno's famous father at last. Thank goodness they'd patched things up!

“That
is
good news,” Roddy agreed. “Seeing your dad
and
going out for lunch. Saturday's meal is the worst of the week.”

“I know,” laughed Geno. “But you don't need to be envious. He said I could bring a friend… Do you fancy coming?”

Lunch with Luca Perotti? Roddy could hardly believe it.

“Wow!” he beamed. “Yes, please. That would be amazing. But are you sure you want me tagging along?”

“Of course,” said Geno. “I wouldn't have asked otherwise, and Dad said he'd be pleased to meet you. Besides,” he added a
little sadly, “if you're there, too, he might not be too hard on me and my lack of goal scoring.”

Roddy wanted to say something else to reassure Geno. He punched his friend's arm lightly and shot him a grin. “Don't worry, it'll be fine.”

With such an exciting event to look forward to, Roddy couldn't wait for Saturday to roll around. And now that he was friends with Geno again, the time went quickly.

Training with Mr Chadwick was very different from the sessions with Mr Jenkins. The new coach was excellent, but he was more used to working with older players. As a result, he sometimes expected them to have mastered more complex skills than they had, and he wasn't as approachable. Unlike Mr Jenkins, who didn't mind a bit of backchat, Mr
Chadwick made it clear that he expected everyone to get through his drills without any problems.

It was hard work, and after training there were some grumbles out of his earshot. The squad was being pushed even harder than normal, and the goalies in particular were suffering on long running sessions. But despite the punishing pace, they were learning a lot of new techniques.

One of the things Roddy particularly liked was that Mr Chadwick emphasised the ability to control the ball and move in one fluid motion. He spent a lot of time with them practising turning as the ball was received.

“If you're being marked and the ball comes to you, the only person who knows which way you're going to turn is you,” said the coach. “If you do it quickly, your marker will always struggle to react in time. So keep
practising, and in a while we'll try it with some defenders.”

In between training sessions and schoolwork, everyone was discussing the House Cup. The main competition was still too close to call, but with only the final round of matches left there was no way either Banks or Stiles could win the first-year cup. Because of this, all the attention was on the clash between Charlton and Moore. Everyone else was deciding which team to support, and talking up the chances of their favoured side.

“Charlton are the underdogs,” Ali said one lunchtime, as a group of first years queued for their food. He grinned at Roddy, who was a couple of places behind him in the queue. “But I fancy your chances now we're out of the running. I want you to win.”

“Nah,” said Jack, the Stiles captain. “It's
Moore all the way for me. I like to back winners, not losers!” He leered at Roddy.

Roddy tried to ignore the speculation, but it was impossible when it was all anyone was talking about. Every member of the Charlton team had the jitters, and the chat just added to their nerves.

Results from the rest of the school trickled in over the next week, and the final standings were taking shape. Despite everyone's sterling efforts, the House Cup had slipped away from Charlton once again. The senior boys lost their penultimate game against Stiles, which effectively handed their cup to Moore, and although some of the other houses were doing well lower down the school there was no question that Moore would be overall champions once again. Moore students were walking tall around the school, but as far as Roddy was
concerned, he still had a chance to put them in their place by taking the first-year cup for Charlton.

Saturday morning dawned. Jimmy and Marek were really envious of Roddy's lunch invitation. In fact, everyone was. Roddy had tried to keep the outing quiet. He didn't want to boast, but he had to phone his parents to make sure it was OK with them, and then ask their housemaster, Mr Clutterbuck, for permission to leave the school grounds for the afternoon, so it was inevitable that someone would find out. Sure enough, by Saturday almost everyone knew that Roddy and Geno were going out for lunch with the famous Italian international.

“Ask him how we can turn things around,” Jimmy urged Roddy after breakfast.

“Yes,” agreed Marek. “Tell him we need all the help we can get.”

“I will,” Roddy assured them. “In fact, I'm sure we both will.”

The morning seemed to crawl by, but eventually Roddy found himself with Geno, approaching the sleek black sports car that was sitting with its engine idling outside the main school building. Inside was one of his footballing heroes, the great Luca Perotti.

Geno tipped the seat forward to let Roddy scramble inside before clicking it back to sit down himself.

Mr Perotti turned and offered Roddy his hand. “Nice to meet you, Roddy,” he said. “Geno's told me a lot about you.”

“Brilliant to meet you, too, Mr Perotti,” said Roddy, trying to keep his voice casual as he shook the offered hand. He was so excited to meet the international star that he found it almost impossible to keep a constantly broad grin off his face.

“Please, call me Luca. So, boys. What do you want to eat? I saw a little pizza place on the way here, how does that sound?”

Geno glanced at Roddy, who nodded. “Yeah, that sounds great.”

The pizzeria wasn't far away, and most of the journey was taken up with Geno and Luca catching up. Luca had been back in Italy, opening a football academy in Parma, and was telling stories about his old team-mates, who he'd met up with while he was in town.

Roddy sank back into the soft leather seat and listened. He knew enough of the players Luca mentioned to be even more in awe of Geno's dad than he had been before. This man knew
everyone
, and Roddy was sitting in the back of his car, being taken out to lunch. How cool was
that?

Soon they were sitting down in the restaurant, waiting for their pizza to arrive.

“Of course, I left Parma just before the side got really successful,” said Luca, as the drinks arrived. “They got promoted a couple
of years afterwards and filled the team with stars. Zola, Cannavaro, Stoichkov, Asprilla. It was all from milk money. The club was bought by a dairy and they pumped loads of cash into it. They won the UEFA Cup in '97, but they could never hold onto players for long. They're back in Serie B now, but they'll be promoted again, I think. Hopefully with some young players from my academy, eh?”

Just then, the pizza arrived, and conversation halted for a few minutes while everyone got stuck in.

“So, why did you leave Parma?” asked Roddy between mouthfuls.

“Oh, I just needed a new challenge,” said Luca. “I wanted to play for Italy, and without being at one of the top teams that was almost impossible. Parma offered to make me captain, but I was never really cut out to be a leader. Plus, Milan came knocking and
it's hard to say no. I always planned to go back, but the team got so good that they didn't want a slow old striker with no knees. I came to England instead, and met Geno's mother while I was playing for Queens Park Rangers, so I stayed in London with her and little Geno.” Luca put down his slice of pizza. “No, being captain never appealed to me. I hear you want to lead your team though, Roddy.”

“Er … it would be nice,” Roddy said tentatively. “I mean, I was captain at my old school, and I did a good job, so I think I deserve a chance at least.”

“At your old school, you were the best player by a mile, right?”

Roddy nodded.

“You being captain there would have been like me at Parma. You were captain at your last school because you were head and
shoulders above the rest of the team. It was like a reward for being so brilliant. But at Stadium School it's bound to be different. Being the best player won't come into it.” Luca Perotti paused, to make sure Roddy understood what he was saying. “Some players have the ability to make their teammates into world-beaters,” he went on. “And they're the natural captains. They don't have to be the best player, because they can make every member of the team feel like the best player on the pitch, the best in the
world
.” Geno's dad smiled encouragingly at Roddy. “Now, I don't know if Keira can do that, or if you can, but if your coach thinks Keira is the best choice at the moment, then you have to go with it, and play your heart out for the captain and the team, even if privately you don't agree with her decision.”

Roddy opened his mouth to reply, but
Geno beat him to it. “Things have moved on a bit since we last spoke,” he told his dad. “Roddy was the first person to get annoyed with Keira's attitude, but we're all feeling it now. She
was
a good captain, but the more we flounder, the more she tells us off, and that's not helping the team. And my dry run isn't helping, either,” he added miserably.