Man of the Match by Dan Freedman Read Free Book Online

night after the winger knocked out a referee.
    Johnson, on loan at Division 1 outfit Seaport Town from Premier League side Hawkstone United, lost his temper in yesterday’s match.
    After only two minutes, Johnson launched a senseless attack on referee Arthur Salcock, knocking the highly respected official unconscious.
    Johnson is set to be banned and fined by the football authorities, while his manager at Seaport, Raymond Porlock, also had strong words for the disgraced winger.
    â€œThis is not acceptable. Full stop,” Porlock admitted. “Referees are the lifeblood of football. We need them more than they need us. It’ll be a long time before he pulls on a Seaport Town shirt again.”
    Â 
    Jamie stared at the screen on his mobile in disbelief.
    He hadn’t wanted any of this. None of it. All he’d ever wanted was to play football.
    But now he’d been banned. When would he be allowed to kick a ball again?

 
    Â 
    Although it only been four weeks, Jamie felt as though he hadn’t played football for years. Decades, even.
    Despite the fact that his ban would soon be over, Raymond Porlock had said that he still had no intention of picking Jamie for Seaport Town. He didn’t think Jamie was “mentally ready” to come back yet.
    Above everything else, Jamie missed the buzz. Nothing on earth felt as good as playing football.
    To stay fit, Jamie had been going for long runs by himself every day.
    He sprinted up and down the streets around his house, each day setting himself new targets to keep pushing himself to the limit.
    Sometimes, like today, he even went down to the main road so that he could run on the pavement and race against the cars.
    Jamie was sprinting as fast as he could, trying to keep pace with an old Mercedes, when he suddenly stopped. Something had caught his eye.
    He’d seen a massive poster on the street. It was of Mattheus Bertorelli, posing, advertising a very expensive brand of sunglasses.
    Just seeing Bertorelli’s smarmy, smug, cheating face had sent a spear of pain and anger through Jamie. Burning with frustration, he started to tear down the poster there and then. He wanted to get rid of it.
    Soon, as he ripped away at the paper, the poster hidden underneath began to become visible.
    When he saw it, Jamie froze. Shocked.
    The poster buried underneath was the one for Nemesis football boots. As worn by Jamie Johnson.
    Jamie stared at his own image.
    The image of Jamie Johnson – yesterday’s hero.
    Â 
    Jamie felt like going home and had just taken a shortcut through the estate when – WHACK! – he was smashed in the face by something hard and wet.
    He looked down to see possibly the ugliest old tennis ball that he had ever come across. The ball was completely bald, shorn of all the green fur that had once covered it. Now it simply looked like a bouncy brown plastic potato!
    Jamie picked it up and was just about to send it skyward with a huge volley when a voice called out to him.
    â€œOi! Mate! That’s my ball! Chuck it back here, will ya!”
    Jamie looked around to see a kid, probably no more than ten years old, scampering towards him.
    Jamie smiled as the boy got nearer.
    â€œYou looking for this?” said Jamie, holding the ball just too high for the boy to reach.
    â€œOi! Give it back!” barked the boy, desperately trying to jump high enough to snatch it back out of Jamie’s hand.
    The boy was really tiny. Only came up to Jamie’s hip. His tracksuit bottoms were frayed at the knee and at the heel, and even though it was freezing, he was just wearing a small T-shirt, which looked as if it had never been washed. The kid also had a shaved head and gleaming little stud earrings in both his ears.
    â€œOK!” announced the kid, finally giving up on trying to get the ball out of Jamie’s hands. “I’ll play you for the ball, then! I’ll smash you!”
    â€œYou want to play me?”