Free Man of the Match by Dan Freedman

to do some digging. Find out more. I’ll get back to you.”
    â€œOK. But be quick. The match could be anytime.”
    â€œI will, don’t worry. See you later, Jamie.”
    â€œJack, wait . . . do you reckon you can stop this thing happening?”
    â€œYou know me, Jamie, once I put my mind to something—”
    â€œYeah, I know,” smiled Jamie. “You don’t let go until you win. But be careful, Jack. These guys could be dangerous.”
    â€œI can look after myself,” said Jack. “And anyway, that’s the exciting part! Listen, don’t worry, I’m on it. Probably best that we don’t speak about it for a while, though. We should keep you out of this.”
    â€œCool,” said Jamie. “Thanks, Jack.”
    â€œNo probs – I’ll get to the bottom of it. . . And Jamie?”
    â€œYeah?”
    â€œYou did the right thing calling me.”
    Jamie smiled as he put down the phone.
    If there was one person in this world who he trusted, it was Jacqueline Alexandra Marshall.
    Â 

 
    Jamie skipped down the line. He galloped past the last defender like a racehorse jumping the final hurdle in a big race. Now he was level with the edge of the box. . .
    He didn’t even have to look up. Both he and Dillon knew the plan that Porlock had given them. If Jamie crossed as soon as he got level with the penalty area, his centre would be along the ground to the near post – Dillon’s job was to get across the front defender and sweep in a shot. But if Jamie went all the way to the byline, he would always curl the ball high and in the air to the far post, where Dillon would be waiting to meet it with a bullet header.
    That’s how they had scored so many goals. They stuck to the plan. To other teams it looked as if Jamie and Dillon had some kind of telepathic understanding. They didn’t. They just knew what was going to happen before their opponents did.
    Jamie used the instep of his right boot to sweep the ball smoothly into the near post, where Dillon raced on to it and, first time, buried it high into the roof of the net.
    He and Jamie came together by the Bester City goal and conducted their now-familiar celebration. No smiles, no hugs and absolutely no handshakes – there would never be a handshake. Just a solemn-looking high five.
    They may not have been close friends or even on speaking terms, but in this league, with Seaport now winning practically every game they played, the pair of them were virtually unstoppable.

    Jamie could see that the Bester players’ heads had dropped. He knew that now was the time to attack. One more goal and the game would be over. Bester didn’t have the mental strength to come back from two goals down.
    Jamie called for the ball as soon as Seaport won it back and, as he took possession, he injected a serious amount of pace into his running. He put his foot on the gas and accelerated forward. Hitting top speed, he flew down the pitch, eating up the ground with each stride.
    As he came face to face with the last defender, Jamie wiggled his hips in different directions. He lurched to the left and then feigned to the right before finally bursting on the inside to head directly towards goal.
    The keeper came rushing out, but Jamie was in complete control. He saw everything in slow motion. The goalkeeper’s face was anguished as he dived towards the ball at Jamie’s feet . . . but Jamie was too quick, shifting the ball out of the way . . . and now, with the keeper committed to dive, his body clattered into Jamie’s, knocking him down like the last remaining skittle.
    Clear penalty. No doubt about it.
    Jamie immediately bounced back up to his feet and picked up the ball.
    He was just about to put the ball on the spot and take the penalty when he remembered something that Robbie had told him. And the idea that it had given him. . .
    Jamie picked the ball up and walked over to