Everything seemed to move in slow motion.

I heard the umpire’s whistle. Players hovered around me. Someone helped me to my feet. The football was shoved into my hands.

‘That should have been down-field,’ someone was saying to the umpire.

‘You talk back like that and I’ll reverse the decision,’ he said. And then there was a bell ringing.

‘Okay, fellas. That’s it. Give the lad his shot at goal.’

I shook my head and tried to focus on the goals in front of me. They were only about 20 metres away, but it might as well have been 50. Only two players had bothered to stay down in the goal square. My head was thumping and I felt dizzy. The crowd was screaming. There were Wetherhood players all around me, yelling at me and waving their arms, totally distracting me.

I turned away and, amazingly, found myself staring at Jack only 30 metres away, behind the boundary. He smiled at me and clenched his fist. I smiled back. It was like a splash of cold water that cleared my head.

Amid all the noise and the shouting, I walked back to take my kick. I tried not to think about the consequences.

As soon as I started to jog in for the shot on goal, I knew I was struggling. I hobbled and wobbled and had no sense of timing or coordination as I dropped the ball onto my foot.

It was the worst kick of my life. It floated for about fifteen metres then hit the ground. I couldn’t believe what I’d done.

The ball bounced. And bounced again. It rolled forward.

‘Touch it!’ someone screamed.

A Wetherhood defender down near the goal line with Bubba went to dive at the ball. But he hadn’t reckoned on Bubba standing his ground on the goal line. He bounced off Bubba, who hadn’t moved. The ball bobbed towards him, spinning and rolling across the goal square towards the line.

A surge of Wetherhoods raced in to touch the ball before it crossed the line. They came from everywhere. Bubba went down in a mass of bodies.

For a moment, I was totally confused. Everyone stopped and stared at the goal umpire. The field umpire rushed up to the goal umpire and said a few words. With a grin, the goal umpire lifted both his arms, and then banged them down. Two beautiful fingers pointed straight at me.

It was a goal! It was a scrubber of a kick, but it was a goal.

There was a huge roar from the crowd.

I made my way down to Bubba, who was lying on his back in the goal square. He was being mobbed by the entire team and plenty of spectators who had rushed onto the ground.

For a moment I was worried that he’d been crushed, but I soon saw the Bubba grin. ‘Shocking kick, Mitch,’ he yelled at me.

‘Just wanted to bring you into the game,’ I replied, patting him on the back.

I turned away again and headed over to see Jack. But he had gone. I searched and asked, but no one had seen him.

Maybe I was concussed? Or having some sort of hallucination?

There was a barbecue after the game and people I had never met were continually patting me on the back and saying ‘well done’, as they did for all of us in the team. Mr T was stoked and a bit emotional as he spoke to us. Which was something, for Mr T.

The noticeboard was its usual hive of activity as I arrived at school the next day. All the scores from the final rounds were up. The biggest talking point, apart from the fact that Sandhurst had won the Inter-School Football Trophy, was that we’d also won the Netball trophy. Ascot had been beaten in their final game by Scornly, which was amazing given the way the ladder looked after round two.

The scores for the quiz and the skills session were still not up. I assumed all would be revealed during the afternoon assembly.

I caught up with Luci and Becky at lunchtime. I was trying to explain my sighting of Jack at the football game the day before when Bryce arrived, breathless and excited.

‘I’ve done it!’ he cried.

‘Calm down, Bryce,’ Becky said. ‘Done what?’

‘Here, take this. I’m skipping assembly.’ He thrust a mobile phone into my hand and raced off again.

We looked at each other.

‘It’s the secret room in the library,’ I said.

All three of us raced off after Bryce.

‘Miss Javros, did Bryce come this way?’ I asked, trying to sound calm and in control.

‘Yes, just a moment ago,’ she said.

And then the bell rang. Kids started to drift out. We stood by the library desk, not knowing which way to turn.

‘Hmm. Well, I thought he came in,’ Miss Javros said a few moments later, having gone down to check that the library was clear. ‘Well, come on. Let’s go and find out who the Legends of Netball and Football are, shall we?’ she said.

We must have been looking a bit dazed.

She ushered us out and locked the door behind us.

‘But what about Bryce?’ asked Bubba.

‘He must have turned straight around and gone back out again. Come on,’ she said.

There was a real buzz of excitement in the hall. Everyone was talking football and netball. A couple of trophies stood on a table out the front, along with other prizes. The Legend bit was just a part of the assembly, but it was the part everyone was most excited about. No one had a clue who had won.

There were plenty of speeches. Mr T spoke and introduced a guy called Tom Pike who had played in Sandhurst’s last successful football team about eleven years ago. Then the principal, Mrs Waite, spoke.

Finally it was time for the Legends to be announced.

They started with the netball. Every girl who played in the winning team had to go out the front for a special applause. It was a fantastic result. Becky came in third, Corinne came second and Luci was the new Legend of Netball. She got a massive ovation.

Then they did the same for footy. We all lined up out the front. I’d pulled my shirt collar up and tried to turn my head a bit so no one would notice the tiny plug in my ear. Some of the teachers stood up while they were clapping. The rest of the school soon followed. Every kid, teacher and parent was standing and clapping. I felt shivery and proud. I was constantly amazed at how much this school loved sport.

Which made me think of Jack. He had helped me and made me feel a part of this new school, along with Bryce. I hoped they were both okay.

The team was drifting back to their seats. Something was tickling my leg. It was the weirdest feeling. The phone was ringing.

I slid my hand into my pocket, eased the phone out a fraction, and pressed ‘accept’. There was a crackle in my ear.

‘Third place in this year’s Legend of Football is Mitchell Grady.’ I tore the plug from my ear and stood. The clapping and cheering had started. I was amazed and delighted to have got into the top three.

I couldn’t wait to find out how I’d gone in the skills and quiz. I shook Mr T’s hand. His eyes were sparkling.

‘Terrific effort, Mitchell. You have it in you to be a Legend of Football. Maybe in front of a few thousand more people than yesterday!’

I smiled at him as I received my certificate. Back in my seat, I bent down to put the certificate on the floor. I waited for the applause for the second place getter, Richard Mazis, and whispered urgently into the phone.

There was nothing but hiss and crackle.

I turned to catch Luci’s attention. She was staring at me. Although we had both just been presented with awards, I knew that all she was thinking about was Bryce. Where the heck was he? Was he in some sort of strife?

I shrugged and tried again. Nothing.

Mrs Waite was speaking again. ‘This year’s Legend of Football is – Travis Fisk!’

Again the huge applause. A moment later, Fisk stood up. He had his fists clenched and was pumping his arms. He walked slowly, high-fiving a few guys on the way. Then he turned and looked at me. The hatred in his eyes had returned. He gave me his usual sneer of a smile, nodded a few times, then made his way out the front.

‘Well, what did Bryce say?’ Luci asked me straight after the assembly.

‘Nothing. I never heard his voice.’

The four of us moved away from the kids pouring out of the Hall.

‘Here, give me the phone. I’ll redial to the last caller.’

Luci listened for what seemed like ages, looking more and more confused. ‘There’s no ringing, no noise at all. Nothing.’

‘I seem to remember us doing exactly this at the last Legend assembly,’ Becky muttered.

‘What’s the next sport, Bubba?’ I asked.

‘Soccer.’

‘Then let’s go and do some early borrowing.’

We raced off to the library, not knowing what to expect.