The Kick Off by Dan Freedman Page B

keep his mum sweet.
    Then he sprinted straight down to Sunningdale. He didn’t want to be late. Danny had said 6 p.m. Jamie was there for 5.50.
    Just knowing that Danny and the rest of the First Eleven squad wanted Jamie to train with them gave him such a massive lift. The frustrations of the day seemed to fly away.
    For Jamie, having a ball at his feet made him feel the same way his mum must when she had a big mug of tea in her hands. It relaxed him. Made him feel comfortable.
    When the others arrived and they picked the teams, Jamie was one of the first people that Danny picked to be on his side. He brimmed with pride as he took his place behind Danny, waiting to see who else they were going to have on their team.
    By the time the game started, Jamie felt super confident. He made sure that he never rushed himself in possession, always taking time to pick out the right pass. He played a couple of one-twos with Danny that completely split open the opposition defence.
    Whenever he had the opportunity, he skipped down the line. He even hit the post when he cut inside and hit a shot with his right foot. He struck it so sweetly he almost didn’t feel it.
    They finished the session by playing the Crossbar Challenge, to see who could hit the crossbar first from the edge of the area. Jamie and Danny were the only ones who hit the bar with their first attempts.
    â€œYou looking forward to the matches tomorrow, then, Jamie?” said Danny as they sat down behind the goal watching the others trying to hit the bar. Danny was undoing his sweaty shin pads from the back of his heavily muscled calves.
    â€œYeah – I’m well up for it,” said Jamie. “I can’t wait to play in a proper competitive game for Kingfield. I only joined in January.”
    â€œOh, right,” said Danny. “So you’re in with Dillon Simmonds and that lot, are you?”
    â€œYup.” Jamie tried to keep the grimace from his face when that ugly name was mentioned.
    â€œSounds like a pretty good team, with him at the back and you in attack. Bet Marsden’s happy with his lot this year?”
    Jamie gritted his teeth, drawing the air in through the sides of his mouth. He was going to have to tell Danny that he was in the B’s. It was so embarrassing. Danny probably wouldn’t want him to train with the Firsts any more when he found out. But there was no point in Jamie lying. Danny would find out soon enough.
    â€œYeah . . . well, that’s not the team for tomorrow, anyway. I’m . . . sort of . . . in the B’s,” Jamie said. He felt like he’d let Danny down in some way. “I had an absolute nightmare in the trials.”
    â€œOh, OK,” said Danny. “Well, you’ll just have to turn it on tomorrow then, won’t you? Just do your thing. Marsden’s a good coach. He knows how to spot a player.”
    Â 
    The branches of the tall oak trees rustled above Jamie’s head. It was 7.45 in the evening and the sun was starting its descent.
    The others had left half an hour ago, but Jamie had stayed on to do some more dribbling drills. He’d been using the hut as his wall again, really hammering the ball at it to test his reflexes when it rebounded to him.
    Now he was juggling the ball as he walked. He wanted to see if he could keep it up the whole way to the gates of the park without letting it drop. It was another drill in itself.
    But a sudden stirring noise behind Jamie made him lose control of the ball. He turned around to see what the noise was, allowing the ball to bounce away from him.
    That was when Jamie saw him. There was a man sitting in the hut. The same hut he’d been using for his dribbling exercise. He must have been there the whole time.
    The hut smelled like the men’s toilets at the Hawks stadium and there were always old bottles strewn around the ground next to it, but there was never anyone there. Until today.
    The