The Bracket Wood and Surrounding Area Inter-school Winter Trophy was an annoying name for a competition that was never won by Bracket Wood.^fn1

If it had been called the Junior School Big Football Championship, or the Primary FA Challenge Trophy, it wouldn’t have been so bad. But the fact that Bracket Wood actually had their name in the competition – because it was the largest school in the area and because it was the only school in the area actually named after the area – made it all the more embarrassing that, as already stated, they had never won it. In fact, before this year, they had never even got into the final.

The competition, which had been going for ten years, had in fact been won every year by Oakcroft Boys, a much smaller school situated about half a mile away from Bracket Wood. Being much smaller, you might expect it not to be able to field such a good side. However, it was also a private school and, as such, had more money. And having more money meant it had better facilities – better pitches, better kit and, most importantly, better coaches. Their football coach, in fact, had always been Mike McTaggart, who it was rumoured had played for Liverpool reserves at the same time as Alan Hansen had been in the first team.

Oakcroft Boys – and Mike McTaggart – had, to be honest, become a bit smug about winning the Bracket Wood and Surrounding Area Inter-school Winter Trophy. Last year, they had beaten Geary Road seven-nil and, in Mike’s speech afterwards, while he was holding the cup, although he had said, “Three cheers for the losers!”, a number of people reported that he was laughing as he said it. And not in a good way.

It was pretty clear, anyway, that Oakcroft were particularly smug about beating Bracket Wood. For a start, they were late arriving: the match was meant to start at three and their team only arrived at 2.45. Fred and Ellie, who were also late – but not because they were smug: in their case it was because they’d been battling bullies transformed into video-game martial arts fighters – arrived at the same time. They had to walk past them all in the car park coming out of their plush-looking purple team bus.

“Oh, my giddy aunt!” they heard one of the Oakcroft boys say. “Bracket Wood must be pretty desperate!!”

“Yes,” another one said. “I knew they were rubbish. But I didn’t know they were actually fielding nerds!”

“Is that girl playing?”

“Wouldn’t make any difference if she did! They look practically the same!”

“Ha ha ha!”

Fred ignored them. Especially the ha ha ha, which just sounded stupid. It wasn’t even proper laughing; it was actually one of them saying ha, ha and then ha. But Ellie looked troubled.

Fred was just about to ask her what the matter was, or tell her not to worry about what those stupid Oakcroft numpties were saying, when he and Ellie turned into the ground where the match was to be played.

The final of the Fringe Benefits Bracket Wood and Surrounding Area Inter-school Winter Trophy was not held at the Bracket Wood football pitch. Because, as we know, that was just a bit of trampy old park. Instead, it was held at Broom Hill Playing Fields, which were the best playing fields in the area, and which just happened to be owned by … Oakcroft Boys School. Which made the final:

a) basically, a home game for Oakcroft

b) more humiliating for Bracket Wood, having to play the final with their name on it, that they’d never won nor even been in the final of, at their rival’s playing fields

and

c) really irritating because the Oakcroft team arrived in a team bus, when they could easily have walked, seeing as the school itself was under half a mile away. Bracket Wood’s team had walked. From Bracket Wood. Which was two miles away. They were supposed to come by school bus, but it was still in the garage. Since 2003.

In the middle of the playing fields was Oakcroft Boys School No.1 Pitch (they had five altogether). This one was actually surrounded by a stand, like a proper football ground.

When Fred and Ellie arrived at the ground, the first thing they noticed was not how beautifully manicured the pitch was; nor how white and recently painted the lines were around it; nor even that it had corner flags, fluttering in the four corners like … well, like corner flags, and not like three twigs and an old jumper. It was the fact that the stands were full. There was a crowd.

Quite a lot of them were Oakcroft boys, of course, and their parents. You could tell this by how purple that end was. As we know, apart from Fred and Ellie,^fn2 very few children wore the uniform at Bracket Wood, so their team supporters, collectively, didn’t look very green. By contrast, everyone wore the uniform at Oakcroft – which was a very posh purple (hence the bus – yes, Oakcroft had a matching bus). They also had a school badge – a lion, proudly prancing on top of three swords – which was on the blazer and also on the scarf. Loads of those scarves were presently raised above the heads of the Oakcroft section of the crowd, swinging from side to side, as the holders of the scarves sang their famous school song:

Oakcroft … Oakcroft …

We have never lost!

Oakcroft … Oakcroft …

To send your child here is quite a cost!

On the other side of the ground, not marked out by a single colour, and not singing their famous school song – because they didn’t have one – was the Bracket Wood end. Fred and Ellie looked over. In among the crowd, they could make out: Mr Barrington; Mr Fawcett; Scarlet and Stirling; Isla and Morris; and, somewhere near the back row …

“Is that who I think it is?” said Fred, peering.

“I’m not sure …” said Ellie, peering too.

Then, very faintly, from the direction of their joint peering, they heard a man’s voice complaining: “It’s a football match. They should have bacon rolls. Or at least hot dogs! Where are the hot dogs?”

“Oh, do shut up, Eric. You’re making a fool of yourself.”