Harry gathered the Gateway squad together. He wanted to have his own team talk before Mrs Phillips came to take over.
“Right, guys, let’s get ready,” he said. “Dad saw this York lot win one of their games, and he says they play hard. Don’t try anything fancy, Leela, or they will be after you.”
“Then we’ll get a few free kicks, won’t we?” she replied.
“Depends on the ref,” Harry said. “Anyway, we don’t want these guys thinking they can walk all over us. We give as good as we get – OK?”
“OK!” echoed the other players as Mrs Phillips came over.
“Good luck, everyone,” she said. “As long as you do your best, it doesn’t matter about the result.”
“Huh!” grunted Harry under his breath. “A win is the only result we want.”
Harry’s dad was right about York School. The very first time that Harry got the ball, a defender clattered into him from behind and left him lying on the floor.
Harry jumped to his feet when the whistle went, keen to take the free kick himself.
He kicked the ball low and hard, but the keeper threw himself to his right and turned the ball away to safety.
As Harry had warned, Leela came in for some rough treatment when she tried to run with the ball.
She was knocked down twice. The second time, the referee awarded another free kick.
York expected Harry to go for a goal, but he tricked them by slipping the ball into space on his right instead. Oliver was ready for it, and he steered the ball into the corner of the net with the side of his foot.
“Wicked, Ollie!” cried Harry, jumping onto his back.
But that was their only success of the first half. By half time, Gateway found themselves 2–1 down. York had scored twice in a minute and Brad was to blame for both goals.
“You dummy!” snapped Harry.
“Never mind, Bradley, these things happen,” Mrs Phillips told him, but she replaced Brad with Ravi for the second half.
Ravi was on top form. Thanks to his defending, Charlotte only had to make a couple of saves, although one of them was brilliant. She dived low to her left to grab the ball, snuggling it to her chest so that it could not escape.
“Top stop, Charlie!” Harry shouted.
“To me, Charlie!” cried Leela as the goalie got back to her feet.
Charlie rolled the ball into Leela’s path. Two York players tried to trip Leela as she sprinted forward, but her speed and balance fooled them. Glancing up, she saw that Harry had found space to her left.
Her pass was perfect. Harry did not even have to control the ball and he hit it firmly, past the York keeper.
“Hot-shot!” he bellowed at the top of his voice.
At full-time, the teams were still locked at 2–2.
“There will now be a shoot-out to decide which school goes through to the Final,” called the referee. “Choose three players to take the penalties.”
Mrs Phillips had already made her choice, Gateway’s main scorers – Oliver, Leela and Harry.
“Do these goals count for the sponsor money?” asked Oliver.
“Course they do,” Harry said firmly. “Goals are goals!”
Oliver took the first spot-kick, but he sent the ball high over the crossbar.
Harry glared at him. “Great!” he said nastily. “Thanks a bunch.”
The first York kicker also missed with a wild shot, and then it was Leela’s turn.
“Keep it low,” hissed Harry as Leela walked by him, trying not to show how nervous she felt.
Her hands were shaking as she settled the ball on the penalty spot.
She met the keeper’s eye on purpose, and flicked a glance towards the bottom corner of the goal, to his right.
The boy thought it was a trick and dived to his left, but it was a double bluff. The ball zipped into the other corner. Leela threw her arms up into the air in relief.
“One-nil to Gateway,” called the referee.
Thirty seconds later it was one goal each. Charlotte had dived the wrong way too.
Harry showed no sign of nerves. He didn’t have special tricks for penalties, like Leela’s mind-games. He simply pretended that the goalie was not there. He always practised penalties without one and now he kicked the ball as hard as he could. The keeper jumped out of the way!
“Two–one to Gateway.”
York took their last shot. It was a hard ball too, and Charlotte was not as sensible as the York keeper. She blocked the fierce shot with her right hand.
Gateway had won the semi-final!
Charlotte’s cry of pain was lost in the crowd’s cheers. Her team-mates all jumped on top of her.
It was only when she didn’t get up that they realised she had been hurt. It wasn’t her ankle this time, but her hand.
“I’ve bust my little finger,” she wailed.
It was dislocated. A first-aid attendant put the finger back into position, but it was still very sore.
“No Final for you, I’m afraid,” Mrs Phillips told her. “Somebody else will have to go in goal.”
“Don’t look at me,” said Ravi.
“I’ll do it,” Harry said, to everyone’s surprise. “Captain’s duty.”
