Free Shoot to Win by Dan Freedman Page B

his path.
    He put on the brakes just before he reached the byline and dinked over a perfect cross to the far post, where Ash was waiting to receive it. Ash bent back his right foot and unleashed a low, hard volley across the goalkeeper. It was past him. Jamie raised his hands to start celebrating.
    And then he put them on his head. The ball had hit the inside of the post and rebounded straight back into the keeper’s grateful hands.
    Ash kicked the post in frustration. What did the frame of the goal have against Kingfield? What with Dillon’s header in the first half too, this was the second time the woodwork had stopped them from scoring.
    Jamie wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. He had an awful feeling that maybe this wasn’t Kingfield’s day.

 

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    Jamie still felt dangerous; still felt as though he could change this game. But he was also aware of the clock’s race to the final whistle.
    There were now just four minutes left. Jamie wished Hansard had given him more time. What could he do in twenty minutes?
    Jamie was stood on the left wing wishing the Breswell goalkeeper would hurry up and kick the ball. He had the ball in his hands and was waving his teammates upfield. Jamie watched as he bounced the ball once, then twice.
    Jamie’s mind drifted back to the conversation he and Mike had had about the Breswell keeper earlier. Mike’s words rang in his head: “He never kicks the ball out; always throws it. . .”
    It was at exactly that moment that, without warning, Jamie suddenly sprinted forward at top speed towards the Breswell goal. The keeper saw Jamie coming and tried to stop himself throwing the ball out, but it was too late; he’d already released it to the edge of the area.
    â€œMan on! Man on!” the Breswell keeper shouted, desperately trying to warn his defender. The Breswell full-back looked around but all he saw was Jamie whizzing past him.
    Jamie seared away from him, stealing possession of the ball. The keeper froze in his spot, as if he were a scared animal in front of a car. Then he quickly back-pedalled towards his line.
    Jamie sensed his weakness, driving forward into the box.
    He was aware of the shouts and screams from the crowd as he dribbled the ball towards the keeper but, deep down, from the very pit of his stomach, Jamie sensed a calmness spreading throughout his body. He felt the cool confidence of an expert doing what he did best.
    As the goalkeeper tried to narrow the angle, Jamie was more peaceful than he had been all day. He was exactly where he wanted to be – in the middle of the action.
    Jamie looked at the ball. For a moment, all he could see was a big mouse’s face winking back at him. Then Jamie allowed his instincts take over. He let his feet do what had become natural to them and, as they spun around the ball in a mesmerizing whir of skill, he saw his step-over do its job.
    The speed of Jamie’s spellbinding movements had paralysed the Breswell keeper. He was no more than a statue as Jamie knocked the ball past him.
    Now Jamie only had one more thing to do.
    He smashed the ball into the back of the net!
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    As soon as he saw the ball go in, a thousand volts of electricity tore through Jamie’s brain.
    It sizzled. It soared with excitement. And release. All of his frustration at having been left out of the starting line-up burned away in his flames of ecstasy.
    â€œYes!” he shouted as he jumped into the air, punching his fist towards the sky. “Get in!!!”
    His face was bright red. His blood was crackling hot with bliss.
    Jamie could see Ollie and Ash closing in on him, wanting to celebrate the goal, but he turned and sped away from them. They couldn’t catch him. No one could catch Jamie when he ran his fastest.
    Jamie sprinted down the touchline. He was a tornado of released emotion.
    When he got to the Kingfield dug-out, Jamie stared straight at Hansard with shimmering eyes of