Johnny Ball Read online

Billy snarled, trying to think of another reason. “OK, well, if they can dive and cheat their way to glory, then so can we!”

  “YEAH!” cheered Alex C.

  “No!” I said again.

  “Why not?”

  “Because … because DIVING’S FOR … DINGBATS!”

  “Wait, what’s a dingbat?”

  “I’m not sure, actually. I think it might be—”

  Luckily, Tabs took over at that point. “It’s a nasty name, OK? All you need to know is: WE DON’T WANT TO BE DINGBATS!”

  “Whatever, I don’t see you coming up with anything better, BALLY JUNIOR!” Billy snarled at me. “I thought you were meant to be full of great football ideas. So, go on then – what’s YOUR plan?”

  Think, Johnny, think!

  TISSBURY PRIMARY VS EPIC FOREST (PART III)

  You know when you really want to wear your favourite Tissbury Town shirt (the one with 911 JEFFRIES on the back) and you frantically search all over your bedroom for it, making a total mess? That’s a bit like what was going on in my brain right then.

  We were drawing 1–1 in the County Cup Final, our best player was injured, our captain was furious and our Epic opponents were diving like dingbats. HELP!

  What we needed was a master plan, and it was all up to me. What was I going to do? What would Paul Porterfield do? I was even starting to wonder what Dad would do.

  Think, Johnny, think! But no, I couldn’t find my next great football idea ANYWHERE!

  Uh-oh, Tissbury were in big trouble if I didn’t think of something soon…

  “My plan is … not quite ready yet,” I admitted. “Look, let’s go back out there and keep battling. It’s still 1–1 – we can win this! When the time is right, I’ll tell you what to do, OK?”

  “No, you told me that last time!” Billy exploded. His big red face was about to burst. “I was right about you all along. You’re a joke, Johnny Ball – you don’t know what you’re doing! Where are my old boots? I need them back. Come on, team, we’re going to play this MY way!”

  “YEAH!” cheered Alex C. He was still fuming after that free kick.

  Surprise, surprise – Billy’s plan didn’t work very well. At all! He walked around bellowing lots of mean words, but he couldn’t run fast enough to HOOF! the Epic players really hard. Instead, Alex C did his dirty work for him.

  Push – FWEEET!

  Shirt-pull – FWEEET!

  Kick – FWEEET!

  Hammer-head – FWEEET!

  The whistle was blowing so often that it sounded like a song! After Alex C’s tenth foul in two minutes, the referee came over to me.

  “If you don’t take that boy off, I’m going to send him off instead!”

  “But, ref, we don’t have any more subs…”

  The rubbish referee just shrugged and said, “Sorry, I’m not the manager, kid.”

  “Kid” – argh, that word again. I hated it even more than Mr Mann and his silly football phrases!

  Speaking of our former manager, it turned out that it was all his fault anyway. Had he bothered to read the County Cup rule book properly? Of course not! If he had done his job (like Epic’s killer coach clearly had), then he would have known that, as the rubbish ref now told me:

  “17.c) IN THE FINAL, TEAMS ARE ALLOWED TO INCLUDE A FOURTH SUBSTITUTE.”

  But it was way too late to do anything about it. Whether Alex C was taken off or sent off, Tissbury would still be down to four players. Unless…

  Like all the very best friends, Tabia was thinking exactly what I was thinking. “Johnny, get out there and play ball!” she said. “You can be our fourth sub. We need you.”

  “But—”

  “No. No buts – stop being such a SWEET-CHILLI-CHICKEN,” she said, hobbling over to give me a good shake. “You’re a good footballer, Johnny; you’ve just got to believe in yourself. Come on, do it for Tissbury!”

  As always, Tabs was right. Our team needed five players, even if the fifth was me. Yes, I was a football manager now, but I could still kick it. It was time for me to play ball again!

  “Can you look after this for me, please?” I said to Grandpa George, adding my scarf to the one already around his neck. I definitely didn’t want that tripping me up on the pitch.

  “It would be a plonking pleasure, miladdy. Go give them kittens!”

  “And can you look after this for me, please?” I said to Mum, handing her my pocket notebook. I know I always go on about how super embarrassing she is, but she’s super awesome, really. Please don’t tell her I said this, but I don’t know what I’d do without her.

  “YOU’VE GOT THIS, JOHNNY-LUVS!”

  Dad patted me on the back and Daniel gave me a cool-kid nod. “Flame this final, bro!”

  That sounded dangerous, but I’d do my best to win it for Tissbury.

  As I ran onto the field, however, my adrenaline buzz faded away into … PANIC! I wasn’t ready; I hadn’t prepared for this. You know that nightmare where you turn up at school, but you’ve forgotten to put on ANY clothes? It felt a little bit like that. There was still one long minute left, and then extra time and penalties after that. What was I doing and, more importantly, what was I going to do?

  Think, Johnny, think!

  Could I come on and be Tissbury’s Trojan Ball? Maybe they wouldn’t mark me because they thought I was just the manager… No, even if someone passed to me, Epic were never going to fall for that trick twice in one game.

  Besides, after Epic’s diving, stinking cheating, I had decided to change my style. From now on, there would be:

  NO MORE puking players,

  NO MORE comedy keepers

  and NO MORE Trojan Tabias.

  NO MORE TRICKS!*

  (*Well, sometimes maybe…)

  Why not? Because TRICKS WERE FOR … TRY-HARDS!

  They might be all right for an assistant manager, but not for a manager, and definitely not for “THE NEXT PAUL PORTERFIELD”, the future number one football genius in the whole wide world. If we were going to win the County Cup Final, we would win it fair and square, with a proper football plan.

  Think, Johnny, think!

  The Epic players were grinning smugly, like they had already won the County Cup. But they hadn’t – not yet! If they were feeling so confident, maybe we could catch them by surprise…

  But how? Without Tabs, we were never going to out-pass or out-skill our opponents. No chance! There was one thing that we could beat anyone at, though – TEAMWORK! Tissbury had shown that against Bartley Moor and Upton Academy.

  So, how could we use teamwork to win the County Cup Final too? Maybe with a TOTALLY AWESOME TEAM MOVE – something like the Lightning Bolt, only with a lot less passing…

  TING! LIGHT-BULB MOMENT. At last! I rushed over to Mum; I was going to need my pocket notebook back. I scribbled down my master plan quickly and then ripped out the page and took it out onto the pitch.

  “What is THAT?” Billy bellowed in the emergency team huddle.

  “I call it … THE FLYING T!” That didn’t get the cheers I was expecting, so I started to explain. “T for Tissbury, duh…”

  The next part I whispered because, as I told you before, if you’ve got a really clever plan, you should always whisper it.

  “Right, let’s PLAY BALL!” I shouted at the end.

  “Hey, that’s my line!” Billy shouted, but, for once, he had a big smile on his face. Here’s another tip for you: if you want to make someone happy, just let them be the hero!

  FWEEEET!

  Gabby rolled the ball out to Izzy, our best dribbler now that Tabs was off the field. As she started to run forward, the rest of us formed a ferocious line of lions to protect her – me, then Mo, then Billy at the front.

  “GET BACK, BOZOS!” Billy hollered and the Epic players were way too scared to argue. They had never seen teamwork like this – no one had.

  “Keep going, keep going!”

  Before we knew it, we were over the halfway line, then closing in on the E
pic penalty area…

  “When?” asked Izzy.

  “Now?” asked Mo.

  They were waiting for me to shout the magic word: “TISSBURY!”

  In a flash, I made a run to the left and Mo made a run to the right. Together, we formed … THE FLYING T!

  The Epic players panicked. Who wouldn’t? Our teamwork was terrifying! Two of them ran towards me – just in case I was another Trojan Tabia, I guess – and one ran towards Mo. That left one defender to deal with Izzy and Billy. Tissbury had a 2 vs 1 in the last minute of the County Cup Final…

  Thank goodness Izzy wasn’t a ball grog any more! Inside the penalty area, she passed to Billy and HOOF! he nearly knocked the goalposts down.

  GOOOOOOOOAAAAAAALLLL!!!!!!!!!!

  TISSBURY 2, EPIC 1 – WE HAD WON THE COUNTY CUP!

  You know that bit at the end of films sometimes, where everyone’s running and hugging each other in slow motion and there’s that dramatic music playing? Well, it felt a lot like that really. We were heroes now – in our school, our town and our county – and we’d never been so happy.

  Suddenly, the pitch was invaded by an army of crazy, shouting people:

  First to dive into the team bundle were Scott and Alex W, who were feeling fresh again after their nap,

  then Alex C, who looked mighty relieved after his fouling spree,

  then Tabia, who wasn’t going to let a little injury get in the way of a good party,

  then Mum,

  then Billy’s mum,

  then Grandpa George,

  then Dad (his right ankle, remember!),

  then Miss Patel, the best teacher ever

  and then … Daniel!

  Yes, even my cool-kid brother was jumping and WHOOP ing!

  “Tidy tactics, bro! I knew you’d be better off without Macho Mann. You can thank me later…”

  Wait a second! “Daniel, what did you do?”

  “I just gave him a quick call, bro,” he said, with a cool-kid shrug. “Hyped to help. No big deal – I only told him what he wanted to hear!”

  So, Mr Mann wasn’t going to be the next Blether United manager after all – Daniel had made the whole thing up. Boy, Mum would ground him for a whole Tissbury Town season if she ever found out! But that wasn’t what I was thinking about in that moment. What I was thinking about was:

  “Wow, you did that for me?”

  “Course, I’ve got your back, bro! Plus, I had to make it up to you, didn’t I? After saying all those savage things.”

  “You’re the best bro ever!”

  After a quick cool-kid hug, I ran off to join my teammates again. Forget that hat-trick for the Tissbury Tiger Cubs; this was my new most glorious football achievement by miles! First, TISSBURY’S TROJAN TABIA and then THE FLYING T; I had saved the day, and I had done it in front of my whole football family.

  The best day of my entire life was about to get even better too. During our County Cup celebrations, I had a hat-trick of visitors.

  The first was Billy. He looked really uncomfortable, like he desperately needed to pee or something.

  “Hey, I’m, err, sorry about what I said before.”

  Wait, what? Billy was saying sorry … TO ME? Was it because his mum was listening? No, she was on the other side of the pitch, dancing with my mum and dad. Weird in lots of ways!

  “Tabs was right about you all along. JOHNNY BALL, YOU REALLY ARE A FOOTBALL GENIUS!”

  Had those words really just come out of his mouth? Had his brain been taken over by aliens or something? It was probably just the Cup Final glory speaking, but it was still a nice thing to hear.

  “Thanks, great shot by the way!”

  “I know, it was an absolute BANGER, one of my best…”

  Phew, the old boasting Billy was back!

  Then, a few minutes later, a mysterious-looking man walked over to me. He had his cap pulled down low over his eyes, like he was super famous or something. So, it was only when he got really close that I realized who he was.

  “PAUL PORTERFIELD!”

  I thought I had only thought it, but actually I had also said it out loud.

  But he smiled and then said, “Johnny Ball!”

  Whoa, how did the Tissbury Town manager (and probably the best manager in the whole wide world) know MY name? But he carried on speaking before I could ask that question.

  “Congratulations, what a win! You’ve got a brilliant football brain, Johnny. If you play your cards right, you could be doing my job one day!”

  Wait a minute – Johnny Ball: Future Tissbury Town Manager? That was my number one football dream! And now that Paul Porterfield had said it, it had to come true…

  After that, I didn’t think my day could get any better, but as my hero walked away, Chris Crawley walked towards me. He was Daniel’s coach for the Tissbury Tigers Under-15s.

  “Well done, Johnny – you’re a special talent! Your brother told me all about you and now I’ve seen it for myself. Listen, my assistant, Duncan Drills, has just taken the job as the new manager of Blether United…”

  Poor Mr Mann!

  “…which means that I’m looking for someone new. So, what do you think – are you up for it?”

  Wait a minute – Johnny Ball: Tissbury Tigers Assistant Manager? Did Daniel know about this? I know we were now best bros again, but that would probably change pretty quickly if we started working together… Me coaching my big brother? That sounded super awkward and super stressful, but there was no way I could say no.

  “Y-yeah, I’d love to!”

  “Great, I’ll introduce you to the team at training next Wednesday. Six o’clock sharp – don’t be late!”

  Matt Oldfield loves football. He loves playing football, watching football, reading about football, but most of all, he loves writing about football for kids. With his brother, Tom, he has written the bestselling Ultimate Football Heroes series of playground to pitch biographies. Johnny Ball is his first fiction series.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, are used fictitiously. All statements, activities, stunts, descriptions, information and material of any other kind contained herein are included for entertainment purposes only and should not be relied on for accuracy or replicated as they may result in injury.

  First published 2020 by Walker Books Ltd

  87 Vauxhall Walk, London SE11 5HJ

  Text © 2020 Matt Oldfield

  Illustrations © 2020 Tim Wesson

  The right of Matt Oldfield and Tim Wesson to be identified as author and illustrator respectively of this work has been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted or stored in an information retrieval system in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, taping and recording, without prior written permission from the publisher.

  British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data: a catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

  ISBN 978-1-4063-9646-1

  www.walker.co.uk