Free Big and Clever by Dan Tunstall

Estate.
    By the time we’re a hundred yards up the road, there’s no need to run any more. The coppers gave up the chase long ago. Raks bounds across towards me, gasping, out of breath, laughing like a hyena. He jumps up and puts me in a headlock.
    â€œTommy Boy,” he says, ruffling my hair and letting me go.
    Ryan steps in between us, throwing his arms round our shoulders and squeezing, like a father with his two favourite sons.
    â€œWhat did you think of that then lads?” he says.
    Raks shakes his head.
    â€œFucking amazing,” he says. His eyes are sparkling. He looks completely off his head, high on violence.
    Ryan looks at me.
    â€œWhat about you Tom?”
    My lips move but no sound comes out. The lining of my throat is ripped and sore from all the chanting, but that’s not the reason why I’m saying nothing. I’m completely lost for words. All sorts of thoughts are swirling through my mind. I think of Zoe’s text before the game. Have fun. Take care. I think of my dad this morning, telling me to keep out of trouble. I think about what’s just happened. The sights. The sounds. The feelings. It’s just mad. I’ve never experienced anything like it.
    Twenty minutes ago, ten minutes even, I was a completely different person. But now everything’s changed. And I just don’t know how I could possibly describe what I’m feeling. One thing I do know though. I’m hooked.

six
    It’s bright today. Late October, just gone half past seven on Monday morning, but the sun’s in the sky and the birds are singing. It feels like it’s going to be a good day. I heave myself up onto the wall of the Bulls Head beer garden and Raks boosts himself up next to me.
    â€œCome on then,” he says.
    I look around. We’re earlier than usual and hardly any of the other kids have arrived at the bus stop yet. I reach down into my bag and get out the newspaper I’ve just bought. The Sun . The headline says NEW PRISONS FIASCO , but it’s not the news I’m looking for. Opening the paper to the middle pages, I pull out the Super Goals supplement. 28 Pages. Britain’s No 1 Pullout . Wayne Rooney’s on the front cover, snarling and looking aggrieved about something, but I’m not interested in that. I’m flicking through the Premier League reports and the Championship reports and the League One reports, back towards the League Two news.
    â€œAnything?” Raks says.
    â€œNot yet.” I keep on scanning, across the pages and down the columns. The League Two table is on page 24. Letchford are down to 18th. “Come on,” Raks says. “You must have gone past it.” He reaches across me, pulling the edge of the paper up so that he can look too.
    I turn over another page, and there it is.
    WHYMAN RUES DEFENSIVE LAPSE
    Letchford Town 1 Castleton Rovers 1
    Letchford boss John Whyman fumed as his League Two strugglers failed to hold onto their lead.
    In a match that sprang to life in second half stoppage time, record signing Danny Holmes shook off his injury woes to head the Tangerines ahead, only for Mark Young to level for Castleton after a scramble in the Letchford goalmouth with literally seconds remaining.
    Whyman said : “To say the least I’m truly disappointed. It was two points thrown away.
    â€œI thought we defended well all match. We showed great control but a momentary lapse has cost us dear.”
    In a final blow for Whyman, on an afternoon he’ll want to forget, Letchford and Castleton fans clashed in ugly scenes in the minutes after the final whistle.
    I look at Raks. He looks at me.
    â€œWe’re in!” I shout.
    We both start laughing. We were there. We were involved. And now it’s here in black and white. In The Sun . Validation. In the oddest sort of way it feels like the biggest achievement of my life.
    â€œUnbelievable,” Raks says. He takes the paper out of my hands and reads