CHAPTER 8

‘HEY, DANNY,’ CALLED TJ. ‘Wait for me.’

Danny ignored him and kept on walking. TJ ran to catch him up. ‘You haven’t been to training,’ he said.

‘So?’

‘We could have really used you today. You could have marked Deng.’

‘You don’t need me. You won anyway.’

‘Only just. And we didn’t deserve to, not really.’

‘Look, I can’t come, OK.’

‘But why not?’

‘Leave me alone, TJ. I’ve got things to do.’

Danny turned down the next street and walked off without looking back. Rob came up behind TJ. ‘What did he say?’

‘He wouldn’t listen. I don’t like it, Rob. Tulsi’s in a terrible mood and if she doesn’t watch out Mr Wood is going to drop her. Danny won’t even try to get in the team. We started off so well today and then it all went wrong. What if that happens in the tournament?’

‘Well,’ said Rob seriously. ‘All teams experience a dip in form at some point in the season. It’s a well-known fact.’

TJ burst out laughing. ‘Did you hear that on some TV programme?’ he said.

Rob grinned. ‘Match of the Day,’ he said. ‘But it’s true. And you just have to get on with it. All the best teams manage to win even when they’re playing badly. It’s what makes them great. And I’ve got a plan for Tulsi too.’

‘Oh yeah?’

‘When we go to see Wanderers next week I’m going to get her to watch their centre forward, Dwight Fanshawe, all the time. Then she’ll see how much work he gets through when he hasn’t got the ball.’

‘I don’t think anyone is going to tell Tulsi what to do,’ said TJ. ‘But I’m looking forward to the match. If they get to the Champions League final, will they give you tickets for that too?’

‘That’s what they told me,’ Rob said.

As a birthday treat Jamie’s dad had taken them to watch Wanderers play Milan in the Champions League. Rob had made a brilliant tactical suggestion and by an amazing stroke of luck the Wanderers manager had got to hear about it. Even more amazingly he had put Rob’s plan into action, and Wanderers had won the match. Now Wanderers were in the knockout stage of the Champions League and they had given Rob four tickets for every match they played, as a way of saying thank you.

The following Wednesday night Rob, Jamie, Tulsi and TJ all squashed into Rob’s dad’s car. When they reached the ground they were astonished to see Mr Wood waiting for them. ‘I’m doing a few little jobs for the club on match days,’ grinned Mr Wood, who was wearing his smartest suit again. ‘And one of the first is to look after you lot. I thought I’d keep it a surprise.’

Mr Wood had been a promising young footballer at Wanderers when his career had been cut short by injury, and he had decided to become a teacher. But he was also a talented football coach, and Wanderers had recently offered him a job on the coaching staff. Luckily for TJ and his friends, Mr Wood had decided to stay at Parkview School. ‘You’re going to like your seats,’ Mr Wood told them. He led them up a flight of steps and TJ saw that they were right above the directors’ box. ‘Look!’ said TJ. ‘Isn’t that . . . ?’

‘It’s the England manager,’ breathed Rob.

‘He’s sitting three seats along from you,’ said Mr Wood. ‘Maybe you can give him some advice about tactics, Rob.’

‘Well . . .’ began Rob.

‘I’m joking,’ said Mr Wood quickly. ‘These are your seats. And Phil here will sit with you. I’ve got other things I need to do. Have fun.’

They all knew Phil. He was a coach from the Wanderers Academy who had been to watch several of their matches. ‘Any thoughts about tonight’s game, Rob?’ he asked, laughing, as they took their seats.

‘I just hope we win,’ Rob said. All around them people rose to their feet and applauded, as the teams walked out onto the field and the Champions League anthem rang out around the ground. Rob turned to Tulsi next to him. ‘You should watch Dwight Fanshawe,’ he said. ‘It’s what I do sometimes. I just follow one player and do all their stats. Runs off the ball, passes received, passes made – all that stuff. It’s really interesting.’

TJ, sitting the other side of Tulsi, waited for her to snap Rob’s head off. She’d been very quiet on the journey to the ground.

‘You watch him if you like,’ she said. ‘I’m not interested in stats, Rob. I came here for the football. I like Paco Sanchez and Marshall Jones. And there’s great players in the Roma team too.’

‘I just thought . . .’

‘I know what you’re trying to do, Rob,’ said Tulsi. ‘And it won’t work, OK?’

The match kicked off, and Wanderers went straight on to the attack. They had a 1–0 lead from the first leg in Rome, and it looked as if they were determined to score more goals. TJ decided to do what Rob had suggested, and he followed every move that Fanshawe made. It was a completely new way of watching a football match. When Roma had the ball Fanshawe retreated, harassing the Roma midfield players and making them pass more quickly, forcing them into mistakes. Then, whenever Wanderers regained possession, he began to move forward – and TJ could see that his movement always had a purpose.

A Wanderers defender won the ball and was quickly put under pressure by two Roma forwards, but he looked up and saw Fanshawe on the move and hit a long, high clearance. Fanshawe took the ball on his chest and shielded it from the defender who was marking him, then laid it neatly back to Paco Sanchez.

Sanchez played a pass to the other side of the field, but TJ kept watching Fanshawe. He moved forward towards the penalty area and the defender followed him closely. Just for a second the defender looked over to the left wing, where Marshall Jones was dribbling past a defender. Fanshawe checked his run and drifted away to his right. As Marshall’s cross curled across the penalty area, always moving away from the goalkeeper, Fanshawe suddenly burst forward, rising above the helpless, out-of-position defender, and crashed the ball into the back of the net.

For the whole of the rest of the match, TJ couldn’t stop watching Dwight Fanshawe. In the past his eyes had always been drawn most to the speed and skill of Marshall Jones, or the tricks and clever passing of Paco Sanchez. He had never realized before just how much work Fanshawe did when he didn’t have the ball. He didn’t score again, but his tireless running created the space for Marshall to score two and Sanchez another as Wanderers thrashed Roma 4–0.

As the match neared its end, the PA system announced that Marshall Jones was the Man of the Match. ‘I don’t agree with that,’ said Rob, as they stood up to applaud the players off the pitch. ‘Dwight Fanshawe was terrific.’

‘You’re right,’ agreed TJ. ‘He never stopped running.’

‘But it doesn’t do him much good,’ said Tulsi. ‘Otherwise he would have won the award.’

‘He’s not bothered about the Man of the Match award,’ Rob said. ‘He was the best player on the pitch, and his manager knows it.’

‘I thought so too,’ said a deep voice behind them. The tall figure in the dark coat smiled briefly at them and then he was gone.

‘That was him,’ gasped Rob. ‘The England manager.’

‘You see,’ TJ told Tulsi. ‘Rob knows what he’s talking about. He really does!’