us had photographs of Barry Nichols.’
‘You’ll be fine,’ said Nanny Piggins with complete confidence. ‘Tactics are just for people who haven’t got the skill to really kick the ball properly.’
‘Here he comes, here he comes!’ squealed Mr Green excitedly, as he saw the Senior Partner’s car pull up.
‘What did I tell you about not speaking until you are spoken to?’ asked Nanny Piggins sternly.
‘Sorry,’ mouthed Mr Green silently.
‘Ah, Green,’ said the Senior Partner. ‘Is this your team?’
Mr Green looked at Nanny Piggins to see if he had permission to speak. She nodded. ‘Yes,’ said Mr Green proudly. (He was not a great conversationalist.)
‘I look forward to seeing you all play,’ said the Senior Partner, smiling broadly at the children, ‘but remember the most important thing is that you have fun playing with your friends.’
‘No,’ said Margaret Wallace, ‘Nanny Piggins says the most important thing is that we have fun kicking our enemies.’
The Senior Partner’s brow creased as he puzzled over this statement. But he did not get an opportunity to ask any questions because at that moment the referee blew his whistle to start the game and the children jogged onto the field.
At first Mr Green’s team were indeed out-played. Their opponents wove around them andeffortlessly passed back and forth to score a classic goal. But that is where they made their big mistake. You see after you score a goal, the other team gets to take the ball back to the middle and kick off again.
This was Samantha’s job, so she was standing at the halfway line thinking dark thoughts about her maths teacher, waiting for the referee to get in position. She did not hear the taunts from the other team of ‘It’s just a girl’ and ‘Let’s get her’. She was too busy taking all her repressed rage and pushing it down into her foot. As soon as she registered the sound of the whistle she leapt forward and slammed her boot into the ball using every ounce of strength in her body.
The ball flew the length of the field, slamming into the opposition goalkeeper. It hit him so hard in the stomach he doubled over and stumbled backwards, collapsing on the ground so the ball rolled off his stomach into the net. And that is how Mr Green’s team scored their first goal.
From that point on it was a bloodbath. Mr Green’s team were blasting the soccer ball at the goal as if they had bazookas for legs. In the end, the opposition team forfeited the game at halftime because two of their players had broken kneecaps(their fault for standing in front of Margaret Wallace when she was shooting for goal) and the rest of them were too afraid to go back on the field again.
‘Well, Green,’ said the Senior Partner, ‘you’ve done some extraordinary work with these children. They’re a pretty weedy bunch to look at, but you’ve certainly taught them how to kick.’
‘Thank you, thank you so much, sir,’ grovelled Mr Green. ‘Please allow me to run and fetch you an ice-cream from the kiosk.’
‘Okay, but shouldn’t you be getting ice-cream for all your team for winning their game?’ asked the Senior Partner.
Mr Green gulped. He instinctively disliked doing nice things for children. ‘Oh no, I think they’re all lactose intolerant,’ he lied.
‘They are not,’ said Nanny Piggins. ‘They’ll all have three-scoop cones with a scoop of chocolate, a scoop of chocolate-chip and a scoop of chocolate with choc-chips.’
‘You heard the lady,’ laughed the Senior Partner.
Mr Green ran off to do as he was told.
‘But I suspect I should really be congratulating Green on his ability to delegate to a certainglamorous assistant coach,’ said the Senior Partner, winking at Nanny Piggins.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ said Nanny Piggins, although her blush gave her away.
It was April Fools’ Day, so Nanny Piggins and the children were baking biscuits in the shape of letters from the
‘You’ll be fine,’ said Nanny Piggins with complete confidence. ‘Tactics are just for people who haven’t got the skill to really kick the ball properly.’
‘Here he comes, here he comes!’ squealed Mr Green excitedly, as he saw the Senior Partner’s car pull up.
‘What did I tell you about not speaking until you are spoken to?’ asked Nanny Piggins sternly.
‘Sorry,’ mouthed Mr Green silently.
‘Ah, Green,’ said the Senior Partner. ‘Is this your team?’
Mr Green looked at Nanny Piggins to see if he had permission to speak. She nodded. ‘Yes,’ said Mr Green proudly. (He was not a great conversationalist.)
‘I look forward to seeing you all play,’ said the Senior Partner, smiling broadly at the children, ‘but remember the most important thing is that you have fun playing with your friends.’
‘No,’ said Margaret Wallace, ‘Nanny Piggins says the most important thing is that we have fun kicking our enemies.’
The Senior Partner’s brow creased as he puzzled over this statement. But he did not get an opportunity to ask any questions because at that moment the referee blew his whistle to start the game and the children jogged onto the field.
At first Mr Green’s team were indeed out-played. Their opponents wove around them andeffortlessly passed back and forth to score a classic goal. But that is where they made their big mistake. You see after you score a goal, the other team gets to take the ball back to the middle and kick off again.
This was Samantha’s job, so she was standing at the halfway line thinking dark thoughts about her maths teacher, waiting for the referee to get in position. She did not hear the taunts from the other team of ‘It’s just a girl’ and ‘Let’s get her’. She was too busy taking all her repressed rage and pushing it down into her foot. As soon as she registered the sound of the whistle she leapt forward and slammed her boot into the ball using every ounce of strength in her body.
The ball flew the length of the field, slamming into the opposition goalkeeper. It hit him so hard in the stomach he doubled over and stumbled backwards, collapsing on the ground so the ball rolled off his stomach into the net. And that is how Mr Green’s team scored their first goal.
From that point on it was a bloodbath. Mr Green’s team were blasting the soccer ball at the goal as if they had bazookas for legs. In the end, the opposition team forfeited the game at halftime because two of their players had broken kneecaps(their fault for standing in front of Margaret Wallace when she was shooting for goal) and the rest of them were too afraid to go back on the field again.
‘Well, Green,’ said the Senior Partner, ‘you’ve done some extraordinary work with these children. They’re a pretty weedy bunch to look at, but you’ve certainly taught them how to kick.’
‘Thank you, thank you so much, sir,’ grovelled Mr Green. ‘Please allow me to run and fetch you an ice-cream from the kiosk.’
‘Okay, but shouldn’t you be getting ice-cream for all your team for winning their game?’ asked the Senior Partner.
Mr Green gulped. He instinctively disliked doing nice things for children. ‘Oh no, I think they’re all lactose intolerant,’ he lied.
‘They are not,’ said Nanny Piggins. ‘They’ll all have three-scoop cones with a scoop of chocolate, a scoop of chocolate-chip and a scoop of chocolate with choc-chips.’
‘You heard the lady,’ laughed the Senior Partner.
Mr Green ran off to do as he was told.
‘But I suspect I should really be congratulating Green on his ability to delegate to a certainglamorous assistant coach,’ said the Senior Partner, winking at Nanny Piggins.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ said Nanny Piggins, although her blush gave her away.
It was April Fools’ Day, so Nanny Piggins and the children were baking biscuits in the shape of letters from the
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