When Boofer Barnes started at our school because he’d been kicked out of his old one for bullying, you didn’t have to be that smart to see trouble coming our way. Especially when our own school bully, Meat-Head Morgan, said, ‘Great. With two of us we should be able to bash up three times as many kids.’

Good maths, Meat-Head.

To get into our school, Boofer promised that he would change his ways, of course. He’d be a good boy. And they believed him. Der!

Well, it wasn’t long before Boofer had every one of us shaking with fear. On the way to school, on the way home, at lunchtime, even in class. From the very first day, Boofer was punching us on the arm, tripping us and spitting on our backs. Giving wedgies, corkies, bockers and headlocks. Jumpers were ripped, rulers snapped, books torn and school bags thrown over fences.

‘Only reason I got kicked out of my old school,’ said Boofer, ‘is a couple of little sucks dobbed on me. Anyone tries ratting here and they’re dead.’

As far as I could work out, Boofer was nasty because he thought the rest of us were a pack of wimps. And wimps deserve to get bashed. Fair enough. We weren’t all weakies, of course. It’s just that Boofer was twice as big and strong as any kid I’d ever seen. But that didn’t seem to have entered his big, fat, ugly head.

Of course, Meat-Head Morgan was most taken with Boofer’s thuggery and it wasn’t long before he was thumping everyone even harder than before. And sucking up to Boofer something shocking.

‘That kid you just decked,’ Meat-Head would ask Boofer. ‘Do you want me to jump on him as well? Or knee him or something?’

Like a vulture, he was, hanging around for Boofer’s scraps. With Boofer being so huge, even Meat-Head looked small. But for some reason, Boofer let him tag along.

The bullying soon became so bad that some of us found excuses not to go to school. Earache, headache, sick stomach, heart attack…

My father must have cottoned on, because he pulled me aside for a chat.You know how parents usually don’t know anything? Well, sometimes, he did make a bit of sense. He could tell I was scared to go to school and he guessed it was because of bullying.

‘There’s one thing worth remembering,’ he said. ‘All bullies are cowards. Gutless. Because they only pick on people smaller than them. People they know they can beat. You watch in a football match. They’ll run around whacking everybody from behind but they’ll never, ever go into the packs where they might get hurt. They’ll never go in for the hard ball.’

Which set me thinking. The very next day at school, having been hit by Boofer again that morning, I gave everyone the shock of their lives.

‘Mrs Cullen,’ I asked, ‘I think we should have a football match in the next PE lesson. My team against Boofer’s team. And I want to play on Boofer because I’m going to show he’s got no guts.’

Do you think that didn’t cause a stir!

Now, it so happened that I was one of Mrs Cullen’s favourite students and although I knew she’d yell at me for being so rude, I also knew that she would probably say yes. And she did. Because she was smart. Although most teachers would have guessed by now that Boofer was up to his old tricks, no-one had evidence. No-one had actually seen anything or heard any complaints.

So, it was as if Mrs Cullen thought, I don’t know what he’s up to, but it’s probably worth a try.

The team I picked was, of course, way better than Boofer’s because I was friends with everyone and knew all the best players. My team was so much better, in fact, that we could just about do as we liked. Kick a goal if we felt like it, let them kick one if we didn’t. Which was part of my secret plan.

Of course Boofer ran around crunching everyone from behind, just as Dad had said, but he never, ever went into the packs. We played almost the whole game without doing anything special, just working it deliberately so that the scores were always level.

And then finally the game was almost over. Suddenly, Boofer found himself standing alone with the ball rolling towards him. On my signal, everyone had kept their distance from Boofer, but by now the ball was almost at his feet.

‘Get him!’ I yelled. ‘If he kicks a goal, they win!’

Kids ran from everywhere with fierce looks and bloodcurdling screams. So the pack that Boofer had been avoiding all day was suddenly around him!

We didn’t even need to tackle Boofer. Instead of picking the ball up, Boofer turned to jelly. Sooked off completely. He dropped to his knees and covered his head with his arms like a scared rabbit. And then, as the whistle went for the end of the game, Boofer lifted his head to see the rest of us standing in a circle, smiling and laughing, ‘Wimp, wimp!’

‘I hope you do keep bullying us,’ I said to Boofer as we turned to walk away, ‘because it will always remind me of the funniest thing I have ever seen in my life. And,’ I added, as I took out the camera I just happened to have in my pocket, ‘this will make a great photo for the end-of-year school magazine.’

Boofer stayed out on the ground for a very long time, refusing to get changed until we had all left. Everyone, that is, except Meat-Head Morgan. Poor Meat-Head had slipped in the change rooms after the game and torn the nail off his big toe. Life can be so unfair, can’t it?