Spud by John van de Ruit

Spud by John van de Ruit

Author:John van de Ruit
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Juvenile Fiction, General, School & Education, Fiction
ISBN: 9781595141873
Publisher: Razorbill
Published: 2006-01-01T22:00:00+00:00


Saturday 6th May

10:00 On arrival it was discovered that the Arlington team only had thirteen men. (Their prop failed to turn up and the right wing was expelled yesterday for trying to steal a teacher’s car.) There was a long discussion between their coach and Mr Lilly about whether the match should go ahead. Eventually, it was decided that the game would kick off but would be stopped when it became embarrassing for the visitors.

11:00 Pig led us onto the field to the sound of loud cheering from my folks, Mr Lilly, and our linesman. (The under 14D match, surprisingly, is not that well supported.) The Arlington team were obviously terrified and realised they were on a hiding to nothing. From the kick-off Pig caught the ball and charged right through the opposition and scored under the posts.

I placed the ball on a mound of sand and steadied myself for the conversion attempt. All was still. Before me stood the posts. This was my moment. I couldn’t miss. I took my run up, my technique very much based on years of watching Naas Botha on the telly. I approached the ball like a pro and kicked it solidly. Unfortunately, it came out low and struck the crossbar and then rebounded savagely at me, striking me straight in the face. The medics and Mr Lilly sprinted onto the field with the first aid kit and wiped the blood from my nose. Once I was repaired, I ran back to my team who were doubled over with laughter.

My place-kicking debacle must have given the opposition some heart because before we knew it, they had scored four tries and were leading 20-4. We struck back just before half-time when my pal Geoff Lawson scrambled over in the corner. This time my kick was from the touchline and virtually impossible (although I was in no danger from the posts this time). After completing my Naas Botha routine, I gave the ball a mighty thump and when I looked up I saw it flying high and true. The flags were raised and I trotted back to my mark having salvaged some pride. My father did his famous rain/war dance and Mr Lilly ran onto the field and tried to hug me while I was running back to my mark.

Unfortunately, that was our last highlight, and dear diary, I am ashamed to admit that we were humiliated by the thirteen-man Arlington team. The final score 46-12! Not even Mr Lilly’s team talk under the tree could cheer us up. Worse was to come as for the second week in succession the under 14Ds were the only team to lose. The first team won by a whopping 72-3.

I had hoped my moment of kicking madness would not make its way back to the dormitory. However, it didn’t take long before a crowd of mocking faces surrounded me at dinner with ironic cheers and mostly jeers. My nickname seems to have changed from Spud to Boomerang.

20:00 Mad Dog



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