Hottest Shot Read online

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  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1 England Dreams

  Chapter 2 Centre-Forward Goal

  Chapter 3 Lessons From A Legend

  Chapter 4 Becoming a Hotshot

  Chapter 5 Team Selection

  Chapter 6 On The Subs Bench

  Chapter 7 Wembley, 1966

  Chapter 8 Goal-Line Decision

  Chapter 9 They Think It’s All Over…

  Chapter 10 Hotshot Sub

  Copyright

  If you liked this, you’ll love…

  CHAPTER 1

  ENGLAND DREAMS

  The score flashed up on the TV screen.

  England 0 – France 1.

  “Not again,” groaned Leo Diamond as he and his best mate, Mac, slumped back down on the sofa.

  “I can’t believe we got our hopes up,” muttered Mac.

  “I can’t believe that England goal didn’t count,” said Leo. “I thought goal-line technology was supposed to be a good thing.”

  “It must have been weird without it, though,” said Mac. “What if the ref and his assistants didn’t see exactly where the ball landed?”

  “They’d probably just give it to the other side!” said Leo.

  Mac managed a laugh. “Why can’t England just learn from other countries?”

  “Yeah, look at Germany. They were terrible at Euro 2000 and 2004, and after they changed their football coaching they won the World Cup in 2014,” said Leo.

  “I wish England would win something in our lifetime,” sighed Mac. “We need some decent strikers. We need someone who can smash the ball into the back of the net in the big games.”

  “Well, if the England team don’t have any hotshot players, I guess it’s up to us to become them,” grinned Leo.

  “You’re on,” said Mac, picking a football up off the carpet. “And if only one of us can make it, it’s going to be me.”

  Mac stood up and started running towards the door.

  “In your dreams!” cried Leo, racing after him.

  CHAPTER 2

  CENTRE-FORWARD GOAL

  Whack! Leo let the ball bounce and took it on the half volley. His shot was powerful and accurate, but it was too near the goalkeeper, who in this case was Mac. Mac caught the ball and rolled it back out to Leo.

  They were behind the garages near Leo’s flat. The ground was oily and bumpy – not a great playing surface – but at least no one else was around.

  “I’m going to try to play centre forward for the next school match, against Heston College on Thursday,” said Leo, trapping the ball under his right trainer.

  “Go for it,” nodded Mac. “You’ve really improved this term. I reckon Mr Cross might give you your first game, especially as Mustafa is injured.”

  “Cheers,” said Leo. Mustafa was their usual centre forward, and was the team’s top scorer. Mac had started a couple of league games against other schools, but Leo had only been an unused sub. “I think I’d have done even better if we’d had Mr Lawson coaching us,” added Leo.

  “You’re probably right,” replied Mac. “But with Mr Lawson coaching the senior teams, I don’t think we’ll get much of a look-in.”

  Leo took his foot off the ball, stepped back five paces and then sent in a blistering shot with the instep of his right shoe. It was a good strike and it curved forwards, but Mac was up to it. He stretched to his left and punched the ball away. Leo sighed with frustration. How could he ever be a decent centre forward if he couldn’t even get any goals past Mac?

  “Wow!” cried a voice. “It’s Leo Diamond the sharpshooter. School teams around the country should be shaking in their boots.”

  Leo groaned. The voice belonged to Gavin Mathers, the most irritating kid in his year at school. Gavin strolled towards them.

  “Go and hassle someone else!” shouted Mac.

  “Why should I, when there are a couple of world-class players to watch here? I heard what you were saying about trying to get centre forward for the next game, Leo.”

  “It’s got nothing to do with you,” snapped Leo.

  “Oh, but it has,” replied Gavin, “because that’s exactly the position I’m going for.”

  Leo’s heart sank. Gavin usually played out on the right wing. He thought he was the best player on earth, but he’d only made one appearance for the team so far and that had been ten minutes as a sub.

  “Leo’s way better than you,” said Mac. “And Mr Cross knows it.”

  “So why hasn’t he picked Leo for a single game?” demanded Mac.

  “He hasn’t seen the best of me yet,” said Leo.

  Gavin burst out laughing. “You don’t stand a chance.”

  And before Leo or Mac could hit back, Gavin wandered off with a smug grin on his face.

  Leo snarled, kicking one of the garage doors. It made a deep rumbling sound.

  “Forget him,” said Mac. “He’s all mouth.”

  But Leo couldn’t forget about Gavin. How humiliating would it be if Gavin got the centre-forward role and Leo was rejected?

  “I’ve got to make a move,” said Mac, checking his watch. “Are you coming?”

  Leo shook his head. “I’m going to hang back here a bit and practise my shooting.”

  “Cool, see you tomorrow then,” said Mac as he hurried off.

  Leo whacked the ball against another garage door, controlled the rebound with his instep and hit it again. He’d been doing this for ten minutes when he overpowered his shot and the ball spun away. It landed in some old cardboard boxes filled with junk. Leo jogged over to collect his ball. It was lying next to a tatty poster with the England team on it. Suddenly the ground started shaking. It was only a little at first, but quickly became violent.

  An earthquake? Round here? “No way,” thought Leo. As bits of dirt flicked up at his face, Leo closed his eyes, lost his balance and crashed towards the ground.

  CHAPTER 3

  LESSONS FROM A LEGEND

  When Leo opened his eyes, the ground wasn’t shaking at all. He found himself lying on a large patch of grass behind a tall, brick building. Three floors of windows looked out onto the grass.

  Leo saw a figure stepping out from a door. At first it was just a shadow, but as the figure moved nearer, Leo could see it was a man with a football under his arm. He was dressed in a grey suit and red tie. There was something about the man that looked familiar, but Leo couldn’t place him.

  “You must be Leo,” said the man, stopping when he was a few metres away.

  “And you’re…you’re…” said Leo, scrambling to his feet and trying to work out how he’d got here.

  “This happens far too much,” said the man with a sigh that changed into a smile. “My name’s Geoff Hurst. Does that ring any bells?”

  Leo’s eyes widened as he looked at the man’s face. “Geoff Hurst, as in the 1966 England legend?” mouthed Leo.

  “That’s the one,” grinned Hurst. “I knew you’d get there in the end.”

  “Where are we?” asked Leo.

  “We’re in the back garden of the Hendon Hall Hotel,” answered Hurst. “This used to be where the England team stayed before matches at Wembley Stadium.”

  “It’s not very flash,” frowned Leo.

  Hurst laughed. “Things were different in those days. It wasn’t all luxury hotels and huge expensive homes. After we’d finished our playing careers we couldn’t just relax like these younger lads nowadays. We had to get jobs. We needed to earn money to support our families.”

  “Sorry,” said Leo, “but why am I here?”

  “I’ve heard a rumour that you want to play centre forward for your school team.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Don’t worry. I’m far more interested i
n whether or not you want to pick up some new skills as a striker. If not, then I’ll be of no use to you.”

  “Y…y…yes,” blurted out Leo. “I definitely do.”

  “Good answer,” nodded Hurst. “The first thing I want to say is don’t worry if you start a game as a sub. In my career, I spent plenty of matches on the bench.”

  Thoughts of Thursday’s school match and Gavin Mathers boastful rant flickered through Leo’s head.

  “It happened to me at West Ham United, it happened to me with England. It doesn’t mean anything. All that matters is that when you get some playing time you have to make the most of it, you have to make a difference. Do you understand?”

  Leo nodded, trying to work out how he’d got to this place and why an England legend was bothering to take the time to talk to him.

  “Well, if you’re ready, I’m ready,” said Hurst. “It’s time for you to learn a thing or two about becoming a football hotshot.”

  CHAPTER 4

  BECOMING A HOTSHOT

  “OK,” Hurst said, “the first thing we’re going to focus on is controlling the ball before shooting.”

  Leo nodded eagerly.

  “Your first touch is absolutely crucial. So many players in good shooting positions let themselves down with their first touch. But if you get it right, you’re setting yourself up for the perfect shot. Get it on target and bam! You’ve scored.”

  Leo thought of Colombia’s James Rodriguez, controlling the ball superbly with his chest and then firing in a sensational volley versus Uruguay at the 2014 World Cup finals in Brazil.

  “Stand over there,” said Hurst, pointing to a spot about ten metres away from him. “That wall over there is the goal. I’m going to throw you balls at different heights and angles. I want you to control the ball with one touch and then shoot with your second touch. It doesn’t matter which part of your body you use to control it, but obviously not your hands.”

  “Got it,” nodded Leo, smiling.

  For the next half hour, Hurst chucked ball after ball at Leo. Some he couldn’t control and they slipped away, but as time went by, Leo started controlling the ball with his head, his chest, his knees and his feet. Control to set up the shot; then smack it.

  “That’s a good start,” said Hurst, catching the ball. “We’re ready to move onto the second key skill, and that’s shooting on the run. It’s all well and good scoring from stationary positions, but there’ll be many times you’ll need to shoot while running at speed.”

  “Cool,” said Leo, still amazed that he was being coached by sensational centre forward Geoff Hurst.

  For this exercise Hurst placed himself next to Leo, thirty metres away from the wall. “Right,” said Hurst, “I’m a defender trying to get the ball off you. You have to outpace me and then strike the ball when you’re moving at speed. Now go!”

  And Leo did. He raced across the grass, ball at his feet, with Hurst racing alongside him trying to snatch the ball. Over the course of the next hour, Hurst got in some good tackles, but Leo worked hard. He got used to evading Hurst’s tackling and then taking shots when speeding down the field.

  “Let’s move onto the third part of this session,” said Hurst, satisfied with how things were going so far. “We’re going to focus on following through. To be a great striker, you don’t just have to hit the ball well, you have to move your leg as if you’re going to kick it right through the goal net; you need to follow through your shot with maximum power.”

  Leo nodded.

  “I’m going to be in goal,” said Hurst, “and I’ll throw balls out to you. I want you to hit them on the ground, on the volley and on the half volley, but each time I want you to follow your shot through.”

  Leo’s heart bounced around in excitement. He was about to take shots against Geoff Hurst!

  Hurst stood in front of the wall and threw the ball to Leo. It bounced and he hit it on the half volley. His shot was OK, but it didn’t have the power Hurst had talked about.

  “Again!” commanded Hurst. Leo worked hard, and forty minutes later he was smashing in thunderous shots, his right leg following through for increased power.

  “That’s much better,” called out Hurst, walking over to Leo. “We’ve now gone over the three most important skills for a striker: control before the shot, shooting on the run and follow through.”

  Leo didn’t need reminding; he’d already seared them into his brain. Hurst whacked a ball high into the air in the direction of the hotel. “Let’s see you catch up with that one,” he grinned.

  Leo raced across the grass to retrieve the ball, but when he got it and spun round, Hurst was nowhere to be seen. A split second later, the ground began trembling furiously. Leo closed his eyes as his body was flung onto the grass.

  CHAPTER 5

  TEAM SELECTION

  When Leo opened his eyes he was sprawled out on the ground by the garages. There was no evidence of any earthquake. He stood up slowly and looked around for any signs of Geoff Hurst, but the star striker was gone.

  Hurst’s words rung in his mind:

  “Control before the shot, shooting on the run, follow through.”

  If he stuck to those commands, maybe he’d have a chance of getting into the school team for Thursday’s match.

  Leo was nervous during school the next day. A rumour was going round that Mr Cross would be announcing the team for Thursday’s game, during after-school football practice.

  In lunch break, when Leo and Mac were waiting in the canteen queue, Gavin sidled over to them.

  “I wouldn’t bother putting yourself up for centre forward,” said Gavin smugly. “Because that position will be going to me. Mr Cross has already told me.”

  “You’re full of it,” snapped Leo. He knew Mr Cross never gave any info out until everyone was together and he was ready.

  “Yeah,” nodded Mac, “and anyway, he’ll choose players on ability, not on how loud they shoot their mouths off.”

  Gavin scowled and walked off.

  “Nice one,” grinned Leo.

  Training was on the school field and when the players arrived Mr Cross wasn’t around. In his place was Mr Lawson. He was a tall guy with large sideburns. Mac and Leo exchanged a shocked glance. Gavin stood a few metres away, looking ultra confident.

  “OK, lads,” said Mr Lawson. “I’m sorry I haven’t spent much time with this team recently, but Mr Cross is looking after the seniors now, while I’m going to work with you.”

  “Yes!” whispered Leo under his breath.

  Mr Lawson’s coaching methods were very different from Mr Cross’s. He didn’t talk or shout out as much, but when he did it was to deliver very focused instructions. He also worked the players much harder. After half-an-hour of stretching, running and short passing, he organised two five-a-side games. Both Leo and Gavin said they’d like to try out as centre forward.

  Leo and Mac were in one game. Gavin was in the other. Mr Lawson walked between the two games, watching everything like a bird of prey, and making notes on a clipboard.

  Finally, he organised an eleven-a-side match. Leo was chosen as centre forward for one team, Gavin took the same position for the other team.

  Leo had few touches in the first ten minutes, but then Mac raked the ball through the opposite team’s defence and Leo sprinted towards it.

  “Control before the shot, shooting on the run, follow through,” Leo whispered to himself.

  He reached the ball a second before a defender, touched it forward with his left leg and hit it with his right. It was a good strike, but the goalie dived to his left and caught the ball.

  “Good effort!” shouted Mr Lawson.

  Gavin glared at Leo.

  Leo had a header cleared off the line just before half-time, and struck a decent volley near the end of the second half that hit the crossbar. Gavin had a scuffed shot saved and curled a free kick just wide of the left post.

  When the final whistle went, Leo was confident that he’d played bette
r than Gavin. Surely Mr Lawson would hand him the number 9 role on Thursday.

  The players gathered around Mr Lawson in the centre circle. “Right,” he said, looking from his clipboard to the expectant faces. “I obviously don’t know you lot very well, but on the basis of today’s session I’ve selected a team for Thursday’s game against Heston College.”

  He had opted for a 4-5-1 formation. He read out the name of the keeper, and then the midfielders. Mac was awarded his favourite position in the centre right of midfield. Leo waited nervously.

  “Please pick me ahead of Gavin,” he said to himself.

  “Playing at centre forward on Thursday,” announced Mr Lawson, “will be…Gavin Mathers.”

  CHAPTER 6

  ON THE SUBS BENCH

  Leo felt as if the life had just been punched out of him. How could Mr Lawson pick Gavin, when Leo had clearly played miles better? It was so unfair!

  As the team went to change Mac put an arm round Leo’s shoulders. “Don’t worry about it,” said Mac. “Gavin will be rubbish and Mr Lawson will put you on.”

  Leo couldn’t manage a smile or an answer to this. He just stared at Gavin, who was dancing around on the spot and telling anyone who would listen how he was going to be the next Neymar.

  As Leo tramped back to the changing rooms, Mr Lawson walked up to him. “Don’t look so downhearted, Leo,” said the coach. “You did OK out there. I’d just like to see more powerful shooting from you. You had that good effort and I reckon if you’d followed through on your shot, you’d have scored.”

  Leo couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Mr Lawson was criticising him over one of the skills Geoff Hurst had shown him. He should have followed that shot through. How could he have been so stupid!