Calum had his back to goal.
Muckleton’s defender was so close, Calum could tell he’d eaten cheese and onion crisps before the match.
To get away from his marker, and the smell, Calum gently flicked the ball past the defender’s left-hand side and spun round him on his right.
“Huh?” the defender said, spinning like a clumsy ballerina as Calum met the ball behind him. He was through on goal!
Muckleton’s tall, thin keeper came out to meet him. He had such long arms and legs it was hard to see the goal at all.
Calum waited and hoped Erika was right.
Right on cue, the keeper threw himself at Calum’s feet to claim the ball. Calum jinked to his right, dribbling the ball just past his fingertips.
But the goalie’s hand caught Calum’s ankle and made him stumble. By the time Calum had recovered his balance and got the ball back under control, he was wide of the goal.
To make matters worse, the defender he’d beaten had charged back and was sliding towards the goal-line to block his shot.
Off balance, and from a tight angle, Calum breathed out, drew his leg back and chipped the ball into the air, over the sliding defender…
…and into the far side of the goal!
It was 3–2 to Caleytown!
Calum wheeled away from the goal and looked for Leo. He couldn’t see him…
BOOF!
Calum almost got a face full of Astroturf as Leo rugby-tackled him in celebration.
“Yeeeeessss!”
“What a finish!”
“Ya BEAUTY!”
The Caleytown players piled on top of Calum. They looked like a bunch of bananas in their yellow strips.
“That’s enough now, lads,” the referee said as he came over to break up the party. “The game’s not finished yet.”
The Caleytown players picked themselves up and were jogging back to their half when Calum felt a hard slap on his back.
“Good goal, Museum Boots.” It was Jordan.
Calum didn’t have time to respond. Muckleton had already placed the ball on the centre spot and kicked off…
PEEP, PEEEEEP, PEEEEE-EP!
Now the game was over. Caleytown had beaten their rivals 3–2!
Calum couldn’t stop smiling. Neither could Leo.
“I reckon you’ll get a mention on Scotland Stars for that, Museum Boots,” said Leo.
“You think? They’ll have to talk about your step-over too.” Calum said. “That was class!”
They walked off the pitch with their arms round each other’s shoulders. Mr McKlop, Calum’s parents, Leo’s dad, Erika and her mum were clapping on the sidelines.
“Great game, Caleytown!” said Mr McKlop. “We’ve still got some work to do but that was an excellent team effort.”
“Well played, Cal! What a goal… what goals!” Calum’s dad appeared beside him and ruffled his hair.
“Thanks, Dad.” Calum smiled as Leighton jumped up on his leg.
“Down, Leighton,” Calum’s dad said. He looked down at the boots Mr Aziz had given Calum. The front of the left boot had opened up like a clown’s mouth.
“Why aren’t you wearing your plimsolls?”
“We’re not allowed to play football in plimsolls,” Calum said, more to the ground than his dad.
“Oh… right… well, I guess we’ll need to get you some new boots then,” he said.
“Really? Thanks!” said Caleytown’s number nine, with a big smile on his face.
Calum’s feet were sore from his stiff old boots, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t wait for his team’s next match – and to read the match report.
If he could score two goals in museum boots, think what he could do in a brand new pair of astros.