Chapter One
Throwing It Away
âCome on, Ravens!â shouted Will. âJust hold onto the ball!â
Ravenshill were leading by one goal to nil but the other team were fighting back.
Will and his best friend, Steve were on the touchline and cheering on the Ravens. âThey will never hold on to the lead,â said Will. âNot playing like this.â
Steve nodded, and huddled into his coat. The rain was freezing cold. Steve didnât know why Will watched every game the school team played. After all, Will hadnât been picked for a team since junior school. But he was always there on the touch line.
The ball flew into the Ravenshill penalty area. The keeper punched it out, but only as far as the edge of the box.
A player from the other team got to the ball and fired a low hard shot at goal that ended up in the corner of the net.
A ragged cheer came up from the away fans. The ref blew a long blast on his whistle, and the game was over. The draw meant that Ravenshill were now very close to being relegated from their league.
âCome on,â said Steve. âIâm soaked, I want to get home.â
Will looked over at the Ravens team, who were listening to their coach, Mr Smith. He was sure Mr Smith would be telling them that the other team wanted to win more than they did.
âThatâs the third game in a row weâve messed up, even though we were in the lead,â said Will as he and Steve made their way home.
âWe canât spend a whole match chasing the ball,â he went on. âWe need to bring our midfield in to control the game more. We canât just rely on being stronger and quicker than the other team.â
âI suppose you think you know it all,â said Steve. âJust because you canât get in the team because youâre so small!â He knew this was mean, but he was fed up and very cold. âI suppose you think youâd make a difference to the team?â
âI might,â said Will, âif I was ever given a chance. But if Smithy wants to fill his team with sprinters and giants, what can I do?â
Every year Will tried out for the team but he never got picked. He just couldnât compete with players like Adam, the teamâs star striker.
âI donât know,â said Steve. âMaybe Smithyâs tactics are useless, but heâs still the coach.â
They had reached the end of Steveâs road. âSee you at school,â he said, and Will walked the rest of the way home on his own.
Chapter Two
Practice Makes Perfect
âDid they win?â Willâs mum asked as he got home.
âNo,â he replied. âWe threw it away again. Iâm going outside to practise a bit.â
âBut itâs tipping it down out there, youâll get soaked!â said his mum.
âIâm already soaked, Mum!â shouted Will. He went out into the garden, and fished his football out from under a bush.
Will was completely football mad, and practised every single day. Sometimes heâd practise with Steve in the park. But some days when Steve was in a mood or couldnât be bothered, Will practised on his own.
He flicked the ball into the air and started doing keepy-uppies. Right foot, left foot, right foot⦠one, two, threeâ¦
When he got to ten he trapped the ball under his left foot, took a step back and kicked it towards the wall. He was aiming for a small circle painted half-way up.
The wet ball thudded into the wall just below the circle, and rolled back towards Will.
Good, but not perfect , thought Will. He knew if he was ever going to get a chance in the team, he had to be the best to make up for his small size.
He started the routine again but using his right foot for the final kick. This time he hit the circle bang in the middle.
He kept this up for a while, aiming at different marks on the wall from different distances using both feet.
Then he dribbled around his
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