‘Yes, Miss,’ replied Jimmy as he pulled his gumshield from his sock and took his bib and training top off.

  As he passed Mrs John, she stopped him and said, ‘Good luck, Jimmy . . . you can do this. I believe in you.’

  Jimmy just nodded. He hardly heard her.

  The first thing that Jimmy did was to jog over to see Manu, who was now putting a tracksuit top on over his bloodied rugby shirt. Jimmy was relieved to see that the blood had stopped. Manu gave him the thumbs up and said, ‘Good luck, Jim . . . go and win this for us. You’ve got this.’

  Jimmy looked for Kitty and was about to jog over to her, but somebody put their hand on his shoulder to stop him.

  It was Matt.

  DUTY CALLS

  Matt looked at Jimmy, deep into his eyes.

  ‘Jimmy, I’ve got something I need to say.’

  Jimmy guessed what was coming.

  ‘It’s okay, Matt, you don’t have to say anything.’

  ‘No, I do,’ replied his friend. ‘I’m just really sorry about the way I’ve behaved,’ he began. ‘Seeing Manu getting injured like that frightened the life out of me and for a split second I was terrified that something was really badly wrong with him. When they were treating him, I realised what a great friend he’s been to me and I started remembering some of the great things we’ve all done together. It was then I realised that most of those memories included you, too. I’m so sorry, Jim, I’ve been such a fool.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Matt, it’s not a problem. Honestly, don’t worry.’

  They both heard a noise from behind them and saw the medical team taking Manu to the changing room. The crowd started to clap and cheer. Everyone was relieved to see Manu smiling and waving to his family as he walked away for his assessment.

  The referee was in discussion with his assistants as he’d apparently forgotten to stop his watch when the incident with Manu had happened, and needed to know exactly how much time was left in the half. It gave Matt enough time to get his feelings off his chest.

  ‘I’m so sorry that I’ve been jealous of your friendship with Oscar,’ he continued. ‘Really I am. I always thought that along with Manu, you’d be my best friend for good. I just couldn’t deal with you and Oscar being so close and spending so much time together. I was scared that he would split our friendship up. I was stupid. And not just that, I was so horrible about his condition.’

  Jimmy stopped his friend quickly. ‘It’s not a condition, Matt, it’s just him.’

  ‘I know, I know, I’m sorry. I’ve been reading about autism, and I want to know more. I promise, I’ll do better.’

  Jimmy smiled. ‘Well, that’s great to hear. It really is . . . nice one.’

  ‘But I’m even more sorry that I didn’t help with your tackling problems. I should have supported you more, but that changes from today. Don’t worry about the tackling at all, I’ll cover you for that. You just get out here and play and show everyone what you’re able to do. You’re the best player we’ve got by a mile, just go and prove it.’

  Matt held out his hand for Jimmy to shake. Jimmy took it and smiled.

  ‘Come on then, mate,’ he said. ‘Let’s see what we can do.’

  When the game eventually restarted after one of the parents had to help with the timing issues as both the assistants had forgotten to stop their watches too, the referee chose to restart the game with a scrum. It was Central’s put-in, right in the centre of the pitch.

  Matt held the ball tightly to his chest and looked at Jimmy, darting his eyes over to the opposition full back. Jimmy looked over to where Matt was urging him to look. The full back was way out of position, leaving a huge amount of space behind him. It was the perfect opportunity for Jimmy to put in a long raking kick for Kitty to chase. If he judged it right, it would be a certain try for his friend to give Central the lead. Jimmy felt supremely confident, he knew exactly what he had to do.

  As Matt fed the ball into the scrum, Jimmy remembered Peter Clement’s words of last year, ‘always play what’s in front of you and make a statement.’

  Jimmy made a statement all right.

  He dropped the ball.

  He couldn’t believe what had happened. Matt had fed the ball in, picked it up from the rear of the scrum and delivered the most perfect spin pass to Jimmy – chest height, just in front of him for Jimmy to move on to. Incredibly, Jimmy just spilled it and knocked it on.

  He looked down at his hands, completely mystified at what had just happened.

  ‘Knock on by red. Scrum down, blue ball.’

  Matt ran up to Jimmy, ‘Don’t worry about that, Jim, bit rusty, that’s all.’

  Jimmy clapped his hands and rubbed them together, hoping to get the blood moving in them to warm them up. He didn’t really know why, it was a beautiful spring day, but he felt he had to do something to help explain to everyone why he dropped the ball.

  Brookdale Primary’s scrum-half popped the ball into the scrum on the referee’s instruction and shot round to the back of it to pick the ball up. In one swift movement he swept the ball up from the floor and delivered a perfect pass to his fly-half. The fly-half had been lying slightly deep so that he could run onto the ball and timed his run to perfection. He took the pass without breaking a stride and headed for his target.

  Jimmy.

  Well, this was it. The moment everybody was waiting for. Kevin was right, it would happen straight away.

  On the sidelines, Mrs John took a deep breath and bit her lip. Kevin had his hands over his mouth and nose and stared in silence. Will stood motionless, fingers crossed. Mark Kane, stood alone on the far corner of the pitch with a smirk across his face.

  The fly-half, unaware of the full significance of this moment, bombed towards Jimmy.

  But Jimmy was ready. He steadied himself, rose up on his toes and looked for the imaginary metre circle around the feet of his onrushing opponent. This was it. Moving forward to meet his prey, Jimmy caught sight of something from the corner of his left eye. It was Matt.

  Guessing that his opposite number would make the pass to his fly-half, Matt had made his move, completely unseen by Jimmy. Just as Jimmy was getting ready to have his moment with tackling destiny, Matt flew in like Superman and smashed the speedy fly-half before Jimmy had a chance to test out his new-found tackle technique.

  The fly-half was so surprised at the speed, quality and unusual angle that Matt had made his tackle from, that he was unable to hold on to the ball, which flew from his grasp, straight into the path of Jimmy’s run.

  Instinct took over. Jimmy scooped the ball up and looked up the field, again the opposition full back was out of position, so again Jimmy opted to kick for Kitty. And again Jimmy made a mistake. He couldn’t believe it.

  This time, he just kicked the ball way out of play, directly into touch. He never did that.

  There was no rubbing of hands this time. Instead he just looked down at his beautiful Adidas Predators as if demanding an explanation from them.

  Jimmy heard the shrill sound of the referee’s whistle again. ‘I’d already called advantage over on the kick,’ explained the ref. ‘Ball kicked straight in from outside red’s twenty-two. Blue lineout, in line with where the kick was made.’ Jimmy’s head dropped as he realised the significance of his error.

  There was no doubt that it was a dangerous moment for Central. There was less than ten minutes played and it was still nil-nil, but the attacking lineout gave Brookdale plenty of options to get that crucial first score on the board.

  The option that the Brookdale fly-half took was an up and under. His plan must have been to put pressure on the Central full back, but if so, he was off target. Instead he got under it too much and the ball was heading high and straight at Jimmy.

  As he stood under it, waiting to make a safe catch, Jimmy blocked everything out. His concentration was 100% on the ball, nothing else. As a result, he didn’t see half the Brookdale pack charging down on him, all of whom were offside as they had been in front of their kicker when he made his kick.

  None of that mattered to Jimmy.

  He watched the ball swirling above him and didn’t even blink as it fell to earth. At the split second that Jimmy gathered the ball perfectly into his arms, he was flattened by two of the Brookdale forwards.

  It was a heck of a hit.

  The crowd gasped as Jimmy crumpled under their weight. The sound of the hit meant they all feared it would be another injury to rival Manu’s in its seriousness. Jimmy’s mother turned to Will and said, ‘Oh no, Dad, he’s injured again isn’t he? I can’t look.’

  Will shouted from the sidelines, ‘Referee!! That was offside by miles!’

  But the referee didn’t need Will’s advice. He’d already blown for the penalty to Central.

  Jimmy rolled away from his tacklers but stayed on the ground. One of them had smashed his shoulder straight into Jimmy’s collarbone. Jimmy put his arms straight to his collarbone, fearing the worst. But there was nothing. No pain whatsoever. He moved his arm around slowly, it rotated perfectly. He was absolutely fine.

  Jimmy got to his feet and brushed some of the loose dirt off his jersey. Then he gathered up the ball and jogged over to where the referee was standing to show where the penalty was to be taken from. When he got there, the referee spoke to him.

  ‘You okay, son? That was a hell of a bang you took. But fair do’s, you didn’t drop that ball. Brave that.’

  Jimmy just looked at the referee, his words of praise ringing in Jimmy’s ears. Brave that.

  It was as if a light bulb had gone on in Jimmy’s brain. Yes, it was brave. Those forwards from Brookdale had deliberately run from an offside position to shake him up. Jimmy knew everyone thought he was scared on the field because of his tackling problems, but it was never about that for Jimmy. It was just a mental block that he’d developed about one thing in particular: tackling somebody head-on. He’d just demonstrated his bravery – which Jimmy thought had never been in doubt – now he just wanted an opportunity to demonstrate his tackling skill. It was time to find a tackle.

  But first, he had to deal with the medical team who had rushed on to treat him. Jimmy looked bemused.

  ‘There’s nothing wrong with me, and they never went near my head, look, here’s the mud, on my collarbone.’

  Then, before they could say another word, Jimmy started counting. And he started counting backwards from 17 to 12. The medics just stared at him. Then he said, ‘We’re playing at the Underhill show pitch, it’s nil-all, Central won their last game, but I didn’t play because I’ve been out of the team for a while.’ Then, he stood up on one leg, hopping about, showing perfect balance before saying, ‘My mate Manu is the player who’s gone off . . . oh, and also, boomerang, Venus and waterfall.’

  At this, Kevin John, who heard every word of Jimmy’s speech to the medics burst out laughing, and jogged over to them.

  ‘He’s fine, lads . . . believe me.’

  The medics laughed, looked at Jimmy and said, ‘That was a pretty thorough HIA you just gave yourself, son, but we know you didn’t hit your head, we were only going to check your shoulder!’

  ‘It’s fine, honestly,’ said Jimmy, rotating it like an aeroplane propeller.

  ‘Seems it is,’ said the medic, turning around and walking off the pitch.

  Kevin walked over and looked at Jimmy, amazed. ‘You really don’t miss a single trick, do you?’

  ‘Not if I can help it, Kev. And it was Venus for the HIA, wasn’t it? I wasn’t sure if it might have been Mars for a minute?’

  Kevin just shook his head and laughed. ‘Yes, it was Venus . . . now go and win this match, will you?’

  But Jimmy didn’t hear him, he was already focused totally on the restart.

  He stood calmly over the mark that the referee had made. Everybody on the pitch expected him to kick to touch to set up a lineout deep in the Brookdale half so that Central could launch an attack.

  But Jimmy had other plans. For the first time in his short rugby career, Jimmy was going to do something for himself. It was time that he showed everyone just how brave he really was.

  He glanced up field and saw that the full back, for once, was in the correct position. Jimmy knew what he had to do.

  The referee’s whistle went and instead of drilling the ball towards touch, Jimmy swung his body away from the touchline, towards the middle of the field. Then, with all his power and timing, he punted the ball straight towards the Brookdale full back. From the second that the ball left his boot, Jimmy was off.

  On the touchline, Mrs John turned to her husband.

  ‘What on earth is he doing that for, Kev? He should have gone for touch. Perhaps he did have a bang on the head, I’ve got no idea what he’s thinking.’

  ‘Oh, I do,’ smiled Kevin. ‘He’s gone to find himself a tackle.’

  THE MOMENT OF TRUTH

  The whole Brookdale back line were taken by surprise by Jimmy’s kick. They were all looking over to the touchline when Jimmy changed the direction of his kick and fired it towards their full back.

  In fact, the first time they really noticed it was when they saw a flash of red and black sprinting towards them as though his life depended on it. In Jimmy’s mind, his rugby life did depend on it.

  The Brookdale full back was probably the only player who had seen what Jimmy had done. He never took his eyes off Jimmy’s kick and steadied himself under the high ball, focused on catching it. There was only one thought on his mind. Catch it safely and run it straight back.

  Within seconds, the ball was nestled into his hands. He looked up and saw chaos. Some of his teammates were still confused as to what had happened and as a result were not switched on to his run. In fact, the only person who seemed to know what was happening was Jimmy.

  Jimmy had kicked the ball so far, the full back had lots of time to consider his options, but once he saw the onrushing Jimmy, the full back remembered the words of his teacher in the dressing room before the game.

  ‘They’ve got one really talented player. He’s the fly-half and his name is Jimmy Joseph. Apparently, he may not start the game, but if he comes on, he’s capable of cutting us to ribbons. But he can’t tackle, that’s why he might not start. If you get the chance, just run at him. He’ll let you pass by like a draught through the crack in a broken window.’

  The words made up the mind of the full back. Even though Jimmy was the only Central player chasing his kick, and there was loads of space to run into where he wouldn’t be challenged, he was going to run straight at him. Just like his coach had said.

  Jimmy saw the full back gather the ball. It was a good catch. Jimmy was running at full speed, desperate to get to the player as quickly as he could. But he’d kicked the ball too long. The full back had loads of time and loads of space to do anything he wanted. Jimmy was worried his plan wouldn’t work and that maybe the full back would kick it.

  ‘Come on, run it, run it to me,’ Jimmy said under his breath as he continued his chase. ‘I want this tackle.’

  It appeared that Jimmy would get his wish.

  The full back looked up at Jimmy and ran straight at him, as fast as he could.

  ‘Oh my God,’ said Mrs John to her husband, when she saw the impending collision. ‘This isn’t going to end well.’

  ‘Don’t be too sure,’ replied Kevin, ‘the big difference is, he wants this now.’ Then Kevin quietly whispered to himself, ‘Get that head to the side, Jimmy, drive those legs . . . ring of steel, mate, ring of steel. Be like Fekitoa.’

  ‘What did you say?’ asked his wife, but she got no reply, Kevin was completely focused on what Jimmy was about to do.

  So was Jimmy.

  The troubles of the last year swirled around his mind like a whirlwind. With every stride he took it seemed like a different image popped into his thoughts: the troubles at the Academy, Mr Kane, giving up his Eagles kit and boots, missing those tackles, falling out with Matt, breaking his collarbone, Oscar, working with Kevin . . . it all came down to this moment.

  And what a moment it was.

  Jimmy pulled off the most perfect, textbook tackle any of the spectators had ever seen. The speed that both players were moving at suggested to those watching that it was going to be a classic rugby hit of the type that a tackling genius like Hamish Watson would deliver. They weren’t wrong.

  Jimmy slowed down slightly as he approached the speeding full back. The crowd noticed how he seemed to be setting his feet before driving in with the tackle. Jimmy got right in front of his opponent before planting his right foot down. As he did, he ducked his body and hit the full back around the waist with his right shoulder, expertly moving his head to his left, so that it ran smoothly underneath the full back’s hip and along to his butt cheek. Then, instantly locking his arms around the back of the full back’s legs at the exact same moment as his shoulder made contact, Jimmy drove through with as much power as his legs possessed. Added to the speed that Jimmy brought into the tackle, the impact was significant.

  The crowd gave a collective, ‘Ooooooooh!’ when they saw the ferocity of Jimmy’s tackle, but that quickly broke into admiring applause when they saw the perfection of the tackle. Make no mistake, this wasn’t just a hit or a collision, this was a perfectly timed, perfectly carried out rugby tackle. It was a textbook move from Jimmy . . . and it sat the full back right down on his backside.

  ‘Fekitoa,’ said Kevin with immense satisfaction, clenching his fists in celebration.

  Up in the small grandstand, Jimmy’s mother put her hands over her eyes.

  ‘Oh no, what’s he doing? That’s bound to injure him!’

  Will laughed. ‘Not at all, love. He’s as safe as houses. He’s just climbed his own personal rope ladder.’

  ‘Climbed his what? Dad? Are you alright?’

  But Will was alright. He was as happy as he had been since his illness scare earlier in the year.

  His grandson had just managed to scale his own Second World War cliff face, and he’d done it with ease. Will couldn’t have been prouder.

 

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