T.J. and the Hat-trick (6 page)

There were loud mutterings from around the classroom, and for once Mr Wood didn’t order them to be quiet.

‘I know,’ he continued. ‘I told her she was wrong. I told her you were good kids and this was a good school, and I told her you’re just as good at football as they are. So we’re going to take them on, in three weeks’ time, right here on our own pitch.’

‘But, Mr Wood,’ said Tulsi, ‘we haven’t
got
a pitch.’

C
HAPTER
10

‘I’M GOING TO
talk to Mr Burrows this morning,’ Mr Wood said. ‘I’m sure when he hears about this he’ll want to get the pitch repaired. And I’m going to ask him to buy us a proper kit too. All you have to do is train hard and do what I say. Don’t look so scared!’

‘But we know them, Mr Wood,’ Tulsi said. ‘We see them in the park. They’re much better than us. That Krissy Barton plays in the Sunday League. She’s brilliant.’

‘Now you listen to me,’ Mr Wood said. ‘I’ve coached a lot of teams and I’ve played
in
a lot of football matches. There’s nothing you can’t do if you work together. Just imagine how you’ll feel when you beat them!’

TJ tried to imagine it, but he couldn’t. He remembered how the three kids in the park had played, rattling the ball around like a pinball machine. It was impossible to think Parkview could beat them. When they went outside at break time, TJ could see that the others agreed with him. They stood on the edge of the playground, looking at the pitch.

‘I can’t imagine anyone playing on that ever again,’ Tulsi said.

‘It’s just as well,’ agreed Rafi. ‘We’d never beat that lot in a million years.’

‘I don’t know why you’re saying that,’ Rob said.

‘What do
you
want?’ demanded Tulsi. ‘Why do you keep following us around?’

‘You’re just being mean to him because
he
told you you don’t run,’ Jamie said. ‘But he’s right about that. You can’t argue with the stats. What do you mean, Rob?’

‘Football is a simple game,’ Rob said. ‘With a coach as good as Mr Wood there’s no reason why you can’t beat them, as long as you do the simple things properly. You know – pass, control, move, shoot. And play like a team. Mr Wood goes on about it enough. But you don’t actually
know
if you’ll be good or not. Not yet. So you might as well try.’

‘Well, we still haven’t got a pitch,’ sniffed Tulsi.

And when Mr Wood came back into the classroom after break, it looked as if Tulsi was right after all. Mr Burrows followed Mr Wood into the room.

‘Mr Wood has just been to see me,’ he said, ‘and I’ve come to give you the bad news myself. I’m afraid there’s not the
slightest
chance of getting the playing field mended. We simply don’t have the money. So we can’t go buying football kit either. I’m very sorry.’

The door swung closed behind him. There was a long silence, then Mr Wood said, ‘I’m sorry too. I really thought . . . Yes, TJ, what is it?’

‘Mr Wood, couldn’t we fix the pitch ourselves? I could borrow some tools from home. We could come to school at the weekend. If we all worked all day, then maybe we could do it.’

Nobody said anything for a moment and then, suddenly, everyone was talking at once.

‘My dad’s got a spade.’

‘I could bring my grandad’s garden roller.’

‘It can’t be that difficult.’

‘Stop!’ said Mr Wood, holding his hands in the air. ‘Some things would still cost
money
. We’d need turf to fill those holes and—’

‘My mum works in a garden centre,’ said a girl with red curly hair. ‘I could get her to ask if there’s any spare turf.’

TJ looked around the classroom. Suddenly it wasn’t just the people who’d been playing football who were interested. It was everyone! All of them had ideas about how to help.

‘I bet we could mend the kit too,’ Cameron said. ‘My dad’s really good at putting patches on things.’

Mr Wood laughed. ‘OK, then,’ he said.

‘You’ve persuaded me. But we’ll have to get Mr Burrows to agree. How about you and Jamie coming to see him with me, TJ?’

When they entered the head teacher’s office at lunch time Mrs Logan was there too, and Miss Berry. ‘Well?’ said Mr Burrows. ‘What now?’

‘Perhaps TJ can explain,’ said Mr Wood.

TJ’s hands were sweating, and his heart was pounding. He wasn’t sure why Mr Wood had chosen him, especially since Mrs Logan had been giving him filthy looks ever since he’d jumped over the garden wall. He took a deep breath and began.

‘We thought we could repair the football pitch ourselves,’ he said. ‘We’d all help. Everyone in Year Six. Maybe some of our mums and dads will help too. We thought we could do it on Saturday. Hayley’s mum works in a garden centre and she might be able to get some grass.’

Mrs Logan gave a hollow laugh. ‘How many parents came to our last Open Day, Mr Burrows?’

‘Six,’ said Mr Burrows gloomily.

‘Your classmates say they’ll help, young man, but you’ll find that they won’t turn up on the day. They’ll be far too busy playing
computer
games in their bedrooms. And as for their parents . . .’

‘Mine will help,’ TJ said stubbornly. ‘I know they will.’

‘Mine too,’ said Jamie.

‘Mr Coggins would have to open the school,’ Mr Burrows said thoughtfully. ‘On a Saturday morning. He wouldn’t like that.’ For some reason, that thought seemed to please Mr Burrows.

‘I’ll ask him,’ Miss Berry interrupted. ‘I’m sure Mr C will do it for me. I think it’s a marvellous idea.’

‘Will he?’ said Mr Burrows. ‘You amaze me, Miss Berry. Well, in that case I really can’t see any reason why you shouldn’t go ahead.’

Mrs Logan pursed her lips and looked disapproving.

‘Thanks, Mr Burrows,’ said TJ and Jamie together.

‘Don’t blame me if the whole affair is a disaster,’ Mrs Logan said as they left the room. ‘And it will be, you mark my words.’

C
HAPTER
11

‘YOU’RE REALLY TAKING
this seriously, aren’t you, TJ,’ his mum said that night, when TJ told her about the plan to repair the pitch.

TJ could only nod, as his mouth was full of spicy chicken.

‘Well, we’ll all help. Your dad’s already been talking to loads of people. He’s got this idea about starting a Parents’ Association. We might even have some fun.’

‘Fun!’ said TJ’s big sister, Lou. ‘It sounds like hard work.’

‘Jamie’s got a big brother,’ TJ said. ‘He goes to your school. He’s called Matt. He
said
he’d be there.’

‘Oh. Well, I suppose I might come,’ Lou said. ‘If I have time.’

TJ grinned to himself. Jamie had told him that Matt liked his big sister. It looked as if his big sister liked Matt too! Not that TJ was bothered about that, just as long as they both came along to help. ‘Thanks, Mum,’ TJ said, jumping up from the table. ‘The chicken was great!’

‘Where are you going?’

‘I have to practise,’ TJ said. ‘We’ve got training tomorrow night. I think a lot of people are going to come. I want to make sure I get in the team.’

‘What about your homework,’ his mum called after him.

‘I’ll do it later,’ TJ called back.

Out in the garden TJ practised catching and diving. He hit the ball against the wall, trying to catch himself out. It didn’t take him
long
to grow bored. And he had to admit, he hadn’t really enjoyed being in goal during training either. It occurred to him that, actually, goalies hardly ever had to save penalties, or even shots. Most of the time they just stood around waiting for something to happen. It would be much more interesting to be on the pitch.

He dropped the ball, caught it on his foot and held it there. Then he flicked it up and caught it on the other foot. He’d been practising doing this secretly in his bedroom, and he was getting good. He began to practise keepie-uppies. His record so far was 139, but he was sure he could do a lot more.

He had reached 250 when he heard the door open behind him. He took his eye off the ball for a split second and it dropped to the ground.

‘You shouldn’t be wasting your time in
goal
,’ Joey said. ‘You’re mad.’

‘I want to be in the team and no one else wants to do it,’ TJ said. He wasn’t going to admit to Joey that he was having doubts. ‘I need to practise. Come on, take some shots at me.’

TJ saved everything Joey hit at him. ‘Can’t you shoot harder?’ TJ asked him.

‘How about I go in goal and you show me how,’ said Joey.

TJ laughed. ‘OK,’ he said. He placed the ball carefully, took four steps back, then ran up and hit it. It slammed into the wall before Joey could move and rebounded into the garden fence. Joey looked worried.

‘You want to be careful doing that,’ he said. ‘What if it had hit me?’

‘It wasn’t that hard, was it?’ TJ said, looking down at his foot.

Joey shook his head. ‘You are something, you know that? You don’t know your own strength. Oh, and Dad sent me out to tell you to do your homework.’

TJ followed him inside, wondering. He wasn’t really all that strong, was he?

The following afternoon, almost everyone in Year Six stayed behind after school for training. Lots of mums and dads stayed to watch too, and to TJ’s surprise Miss Berry showed up in a tracksuit. They all jogged around the playground and then Mr Wood put them through lots of exercises – sprinting and turning, dribbling with both feet, passing and controlling. When TJ paused for a moment to catch his breath he
saw
that absolutely everyone was working. Rob was sitting on a bench, as usual, but as TJ watched he saw Mr Wood jog over to him and ask a question. It was almost as if Mr Wood was asking Rob’s advice. Then Mr Wood blew his whistle and called them all together.

‘We don’t have a lot of time before the big match,’ he said, raising his voice so that all the spectators could hear. ‘And I hope all you mums and dads will come along on Saturday to help us get the pitch ready. Maybe there’s someone who’d like to lay on refreshments?’

‘I’ll organize that,’ said TJ’s dad. ‘Don’t you worry.’

Mr Wood turned to the waiting players.

‘We’re going to have two matches now, seven-a-side. I’ve marked out the pitches with cones. Reds v Blues here, and Greens v Yellows over there with Miss Berry. I’ll be watching all of you. Everyone here has the chance to be in the team. All you have to do is play well. This is your chance to show us what you can do.’