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demanded Jimmy. “We’d be getting on a lot better if the midfield hadn’t forgotten how to pass.” He glared at Keira. “And that means you and Roddy.”
    Roddy was stung into a hasty reply. “I’m not going to pass to an opponent, am I?”
    he yelled. “And they’re the only players on the field with space. If we have more of a chance to score by me
not
passing, that’s what I’m going to do.” He looked at Keira and Geno. “Get free of your markers, and
then
I’ll pass.”
    Keira started to say something, but Sam butted in. “What on earth is the matter with you lot?” she asked. “You’re usually sounited, which is one reason you’ve been successful in the past. But you won’t win any more matches if you spend your whole time sniping at each other. I don’t know what’s started all this arguing, but it’s got to stop. Keira, as captain you should come to me if there are problems in the team. I can’t help if I don’t know, can I?”
    Keira shook her head. “No,” she mumbled. “Sorry.”
    â€œRight then,” said Sam. “We’ve only got another couple of minutes. I want you all to shake hands. You need to get out there and fight the other team, not squabble amongst yourselves.”
    The team did as she asked, but by the resentful looks Keira got, it was obvious that her effort to boost morale had badly misfired.
    â€œThanks a bunch for putting me in thedock,” she snarled to Roddy, as she ran past him back onto the field.
    Geno caught up with Roddy and jogged beside him. “I was in a fairly good position a couple of times, but you just ignored me,” he said. “We need to take every chance we can get.”
    â€œI know,” said Roddy shortly. “But your dry run doesn’t encourage me to pass to you unless I can see you have a really
good
chance.”
    Geno looked as if he was going to give a scathing reply, but he bit his lip and remained silent.
    His reproachful look haunted Roddy. He knew how much Geno wanted to score for the team, as well as for his dad. And Roddy
had
said he’d keep making chances for him. But today’s match was vital, and Roddy still hoped he could pull off a couple ofblinding goals if he worked hard enough and had just a bit of luck.
    Charlton seem to be straggling out of their changing room. It appears that the penalty just before half-time has made their rumoured dressing-room problems boil over, and they’re going to really struggle without any kind of team unity.
    Banks can see this, and are hassling Charlton right from the kickoff. Mbeki plays the ball to Sanders. She threads it through to Perotti, and he gets half a chance, but his shot finds the woodwork and Banks soon clear the ball. That was a disappointing finish when Charlton badly needed a morale booster. Jones’ work rate is phenomenal, but he seems to be playing in a one-man team, as if he is determined to save the match alone. Perotti has his hand up for the ball again, and Jones passes to him this time, but it’s toolate and Perotti is closed down by the Banks defence. It seems there’s no way through, whatever this team tries.
    Banks have the ball now, and they pass it forward effortlessly. Dvorski makes a fine save from Thirwell’s strike to deny him a hat trick, but Patel is there at the back post to turn it in for 3–0.
    The match is restarted, and again Charlton are making heavy weather of things, refusing to pass to each other and giving the ball away needlessly. Jones in on the ball again now, running into trouble instead of playing a simple pass to Sanders. Mbeki tries to come across and cut Patel’s run, but the winger jinks past him with a lovely stepover and is bearing down on the defence. Piper tries to make the tackle, but Patel’s feet are too quick for him and the ball is gone. Patel gets into the box, and tries