CHAPTER 16

Goalsky!

Rory checked his watch. Not the fake Vinvocci wristwatch – which he was beginning to hate with all his heart – but his own, ordinary, non-stomach-churning one.

Nine minutes of extra time were almost up. Rory knew Geoff Hurst would score his controversial goal in the eleventh minute. That meant he had a little over sixty seconds before his big moment arrived. Then it would be up to him to make sure the vital goal counted.

To his horror, Rory suddenly realised that so far he had given no thought as to how he would communicate his decision that the goal should stand. He knew from watching old TV footage of the famous match that after Hurst’s shot the referee came running over to the touchline to consult Bahramov. What was he going to do when that happened?

Should he have prepared something to say? In Azerbaijani?

Presumably Bahramov must have said something like ‘Yes, it was a goal’ when the referee asked his opinion – even if the Swiss official didn’t understand the linesman’s exact words.

But what on Earth was that in Azerbaijani?

Rory’s mind raced. His knowledge of the Azerbaijani language was non-existent, and his grasp of Russian was barely better. What little Russian he knew he had picked up from watching old spy films, which often had a Russian character as the criminal mastermind. Rory recalled a scene in an early James Bond movie in which a cold-hearted Russian villain refused to listen to reason. What did the baddie say as he shook his head mercilessly?

Nyet – that was it. So nyet was no. But what was yes?

Rory tried to picture the same Bond villain giving orders to his band of armed heavies. What was it they grunted as they nodded obediently?

Da. Of course! Yes was da, he was sure.

As for the ‘it was a goal’ bit, he would just have to wing it. If he made up some Russian-sounding words, maybe the referee wouldn’t notice they weren’t genuine. A lot of Russian names ended in -ov or -sky, didn’t they? He could include a few of those endings in whatever he said …

Rory’s attention was drawn back to the game. Alan Ball had just sprinted past just in front of him, chasing the ball down the right wing. Rory could see the two English centre-forwards, Hurst and Hunt, hurrying forward in support. He recognised the shape of this attacking move from the many, many times he had seen these particular seconds of play before – and knew the time for planning was over.

This was it.

Ball whipped in a short cross to the near side of the German penalty box. Hurst had found space to receive it. He controlled the ball with his first touch, then spun towards the goal and fired in a fierce, rising shot. It rocketed over the flat-capped head of the West German keeper, Hans Tilkowski.

The ball hit the midpoint of the crossbar, hard. It ricocheted off the underside of the bar, straight downward, and struck the ground between the German goalposts.

The deflection off the bar had set the ball spinning fiercely. The spin caused it to bounce up at an angle, out of the goalmouth. A desperate German defender headed the ball over his own goal to put it out of play.

But the English players were already celebrating. They ran to congratulate Hurst, convinced that his shot had crossed the goal line, and that he had just put them ahead.

The West Germans felt otherwise. Rory watched them surround the referee, protesting. The Swiss official waved them away, then began to make his way across the pitch towards Rory.

One thing Rory had never expected was that, when the time came, he would be in any doubt as to whether he was doing the fair thing. To his own astonishment, after witnessing the Hurst goal first-hand, he was a tiny bit uneasy. He felt a twinge of guilt that he was about to try his best to make sure the goal stood. In truth, it really didn’t look like the ball had completely crossed the line …

Then he remembered the 2010 Frank Lampard no-goal, and his moment of madness passed. He was doing this for his country. For England. And for Frank.

The referee was now hurrying towards him. Heart pounding in his chest, Rory strode forward on to the pitch to meet him. The referee fixed him with an urgent, enquiring look and said something in German. From his expression and body language, it was clearly along the lines of ‘What do you think?’

Rory went for it.

‘Da! Da! Goalsky!’ He concentrated hard on doing his best (not great) Russian accent. ‘Da! Goalsky!’ He threw in some very earnest nodding and finger-wagging. ‘Nyet problemov! Goalsky! Da! Da!’

It worked. The referee seemed to get the vital message loud and clear. He showed no sign of suspecting that his linesman was an impostor – let alone a non-Russian-speaking twenty-first century time traveller disguised by an alien shape-changing device. He simply nodded back at Rory, then raised an arm and gave a shrill blast on his whistle. The goal had been awarded.

As the referee turned and jogged back towards the centre spot, Rory felt a flood of relief. He was only vaguely aware of the several West German players who came rushing up seconds later to confront him. He knew as little German as he did Russian, but he was pretty sure from the players’ angry expressions that they weren’t saying thank you.

He didn’t care. He’d done it. The score was now 3–2 to England, like it had always been meant to be.

The match was quickly restarted from the centre spot. As Rory watched the two teams continue to fight it out, he could clearly see how much the Hurst goal had lifted the spirits of the English players. They looked revitalised and resolute.

Despite his aching stomach and throbbing head, Rory was glad he’d stepped into the missing linesman’s shoes. Watching the England players pass the ball about confidently, he was more convinced than ever that the Bahramov decision was a crucial turning point in the match. Now, surely, England ought to be safely on their way to their famous victory.

Nevertheless, as the match moved into the second period of extra time, Rory awaited the final whistle just as anxiously as did the many millions of his countrymen watching with him.

Come on, England …