Shoot to Win Read Online Free

But now it was as if Jeremy thought he was in charge of the whole house. Whatever he said went.
    The most annoying thing of all was the fact that he kept saying that Jamie wouldn’t make it as a pro. He called it a “pipe dream” and said that sooner or later Jamie would have to grow up and think about getting a job in the “real world”.
    Jamie wished he’d keep his opinions to himself. He didn’t know anything about football and he wasn’t even Jamie’s dad. Why didn’t he just stay out of it?
    Jamie’s legs were aching. Even though he’d only played half the match, he’d had to do the work of two players in that stupid wing-back role that Hansard had made him play.
    He felt like slumping into the sofa and watching football on TV. Foxborough – the best team in the country – were playing tonight. The match started at eight. But, as he walked into the kitchen, Jamie could hear that Jeremy was already in the lounge watching his own programme.
    This was supposed to be his home but Jamie couldn’t even watch what he wanted on the TV.
    Jamie grabbed an apple from the fridge – he had to get to the nice green crunchy ones before Jeremy did – and then he left the house. He didn’t bother saying hello. He just wanted to get over to Mike’s.
    At least he could watch the football there. In peace.

 
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    â€œIt doesn’t work like that, JJ!” said Mike as they tucked into their toasted cheese sandwiches – Mike’s speciality – in front of the football. “Just because Dillon’s been spotted, it doesn’t mean that you won’t be.”
    â€œAnd, anyway, you’re a late developer, aren’t you? You’re only just starting to get your growth spurt.”
    Jamie was glad Mike hadn’t used the word “puberty”. Jamie hated that word. It sounded like a word a doctor would use.
    But it was true – he had started to grow quite a lot over the last few months. His school trousers were now starting to get too short for him and he was practically the same height as Jack now, which made things easier.
    His hair had started to change colour too, deepening from red to brown.
    Jamie licked up a strand of melted cheese which had got stuck to his chin. He wondered how tall he was going to be when he was older. He couldn’t remember how tall his dad was – it had been such a long time since he’d seen him, and his mum had thrown away practically all of the pictures of him.
    What if his dad was really tall? Would that mean that Jamie would end up being really tall too?
    He would love it if he ended up being bigger than Dillon! He imagined meeting Dillon again when they were both older and him going up and pushing Dillon in the chest. “What’s the matter, Simmonds?” he’d say, as Dillon stared up at him trying to work out who this giant was. “Don’t remember me? Does the name Jamie Johnson ring any bells?”
    Then Jamie’s tall story was interrupted by the commentator on the TV, who was going mad because the youngest player on the pitch had just scored on his debut for Foxborough. He was only seventeen.
    Suddenly Jamie didn’t feel hungry any more.
    â€œSee, Mike?” he said, as though everything was somehow Mike’s fault. “This guy’s only three years older than me and he’s already making his debut – and scoring! I’m way behind. I’ve blown it!”
    â€œWhat are you talking about, Jamie? You’ve got a Cup Final to come in less than a week. If you’re ever going to turn it on, that’s the game to do it in. If there were scouts there today, they’d be mad not to come back for the Final.”
    Jamie licked the roof of his mouth. It was burnt. Mike did have a point, though. The Final – that could change everything.
    â€œMaybe you’re right,” Jamie said, going to get a glass of water