Harry and Ravi were banned from playing in the next eleven-a-side match. The team missed both boys. They also missed a lot of chances. Gateway lost the game.
“We were awful,” Oliver groaned as the players left the field.
“Not my fault,” Brad muttered. He was captain for the day.
As they sat on a bench outside the school building to take off their boots, Harry came over. He had been watching the game from the touchline.
“We deserved a draw,” he said, pulling a face.
Oliver peeled a chunk of mud from between his studs and tossed it away. He had scored twice in the match, but was cross that he had not made it a hat-trick.
“Wish we got paid for scoring goals,” he said.
“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “I’d be rich!”
“Yeah, right,” grunted Brad.
“Hey! I’ve just had a great idea!” cried Oliver, jumping up – and standing right in a puddle of water in his socks.
“Getting paid for scoring! We could be sponsored for every goal.”
Harry liked the sound of that. “Yeah, we could raise loads of money!”
“But the season’s nearly over,” said Brad. “It wouldn’t be worth it.”
“The Fives!” Harry exclaimed. “We could get people to sponsor us in the County Finals!”
Mrs Phillips thought it was a good idea, too, when the boys told the teacher of their plans the next day.
“What do you want to raise the money for?” she asked.
“We want to send it to that school in West Africa,” Harry said. “The one we’re twinned with.”
“You mean Saint Francis School in Kenya,” Mrs Phillips told him, with a smile.
“We could buy some sports stuff for the kids there to use,” Harry went on. “Soccer kit, boots and footballs.”
Brad and Ravi designed a sponsor form in art class that afternoon, and the other players made posters to tell people about the project.
“We want the whole school to back us,” said Leela. “Everybody can take a form home and get sponsors.”
“The more money we raise, the better,” agreed Charlotte. “But we don’t have much time.”
The County Finals were only a fortnight away.
The players trained in the sports hall. Today Harry was on top form.
“Got my shooting boots on,” he cried after scoring again.
“Shooting boots?” laughed Oliver. “You mean your scruffy old trainers!”
“They might be old, but they’re deadly,” Harry said with a grin. “I can’t miss when I’m wearing these things.”
He was wrong.
In the next attack, Harry got past Brad but Charlotte still stood in his way.
Harry did a little shimmy, hoping to wrong-foot her, but Charlotte was not fooled. She held her position, knowing Harry could not try to dribble past her, as no-one else was allowed into the goal area.
Harry was forced to shoot early, but she stuck out a foot and got the ball to safety.
Leela was the first to realise that Charlotte was hurt.
“What’s up, Charlie? Are you OK?” Leela asked.
“It’s my ankle,” Charlotte groaned, taking off her right shoe so that she could rub the sore area. “I think I’ve twisted it.”
Charlotte went off and Ravi took her place in goal. He started well enough by making a smart save, but then he let the ball slip through his grasp into the net.
“Try and get part of your body behind your hands,” Mrs Phillips called to him. “That gives you another way to stop the ball.”
“It’s only a practice,” Ravi said under his breath. “Doesn’t matter if I let in one or two goals.”
But by the time the session ended, Harry had scored another three goals.
“You’re a rubbish goalie,” he said to Ravi in the changing room. “Charlie’s better than you on one leg.”
“Huh!” Ravi retorted. “I wasn’t trying, was I?”
“Course you were. You’re just useless,” said Harry.
“Cool it, you two,” said Oliver, stepping between them. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s just hope Charlie’s fit again soon.”
At that moment, Mrs Phillips was looking at Charlotte’s ankle.
“I think it will need to be strapped up for a while,” she said.
“I’ll be all right for the Fives, won’t I?” Charlotte asked.
“You’ll have to be,” Leela told her. “None of the boys are any good in goal.”
