What's Ukrainian for Football? Read online

  For Rhys Jones

  The Team

  Megan “Meggo” Fawcett GOAL

  Petra “Wardy” Ward DEFENCE

  Lucy “Goose” Skidmore DEFENCE

  Dylan “Dyl” or “Psycho 1” McNeil LEFT WING

  Holly “Hols” or “Wonder” Woolcock DEFENCE

  Veronika “Nika” Kozak MIDFIELD

  Jenny-Jane “JJ” or “Hoggy” Bayliss MIDFIELD

  Gemma “Hursty” or “Mod” Hurst MIDFIELD

  Eve “Akka” Akboh STRIKER

  Tabinda “Tabby” or “Tabs” Shah STRIKER/MIDFIELD

  Daisy “Dayz” or “Psycho 2” McNeil RIGHT WING

  Amy “Minto” or “Lil Posh” Minter VARIOUS

  Official name: Parrs Under 11s, also known as the Parsnips

  Ground: Lornton FC, Low Road, Lornton

  Capacity: 500

  Affiliated to: the Nettie Honeyball Women’s League junior division

  Sponsors: Sweet Peas Garden Centre, Mowborough

  Club colours: red and white; red shirts with white sleeves, white shorts, red socks with white trim

  Coach: Hannah Preston

  Assistant coach: Katie Regan

  Star Player

  Veronika “Nika” Kozak

  Age: 10

  Birthday: 11 November

  School: Mowborough Primary

  Position in team: midfield

  Likes: pancakes with sugar and lemon

  Dislikes: when people look at me strangely in the street because I am talking to my parents in Ukrainian

  Supports: Karpaty Lviv

  Favourite player(s) on team: Eve and Lucy, because I know them best from school

  Best football moment: scoring special goals

  Match preparation: I clean my boots

  Have you got a lucky mascot or a ritual you have to do before or after a match? Not really.

  What do you do in your spare time? I learn English with my family; I MSN my friends from my old school in Ukraine; I help look after my uncle and little sister.

  Favourite book(s): Riding Icarus by Lily Hyde

  Favourite band(s): Madonna, Okean Elzy

  Favourite film(s): I like funny films

  Favourite TV programme(s): Dr Who

  Pre-match Interview

  Vitaju! Mene zvaty Nika Kozak.

  That’s Ukrainian. It means hello, my name is Nika Kozak. Don’t worry, I am not going to write my whole story in Ukrainian — though I wish I could as it would make life easier for me. I have lived in England for less than two years so my English is not perfect. In fact, sometimes it is maytki (pants)!

  OK, I am here to tell you all about the football tournament I played in during the summer holidays. I was so excited because it wasn’t like last summer’s tournament, playing teams from our league and completed in one day.

  This time we were playing girls’ U11s football teams from all over the country at a place called Sherburn Sands. We had to sleep over for three nights and compete for the World Cup. Yes, the World Cup, no less.

  Not everybody from my team could go. Holly, Amy, Tabinda and the funny twins, Dylan and Daisy, were all on vacation. I didn’t think I’d be able to go, either, because each person had to pay towards the costs and I knew we didn’t have enough money for things like that. Imagine my delight then when Hannah, our coach, told me that there was one free place if I’d like to have it. “Please say yes,” she said, “or we’ll be down to six and won’t be able to go!” Of course I said yes. And thank you.

  So here is my story. May it bring you peace and happiness.

  Lubov,

  Nika x

  Table of Contents

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  Final Whistle

  Acknowledgements

  1

  I was in my bedroom, or rather, our bedroom at my Uncle Stanislav’s house where we live now. I had only half an hour to go before being picked up for Sherburn Sands. On my bed in front of me was an untidy heap of things ready to pack. Leaning out of the window behind me was an untidy heap of a brother ready to spit. He had spent almost all morning doing this, spitting onto the kitchen roof below. Mama and Tato were at work or he’d never have dared. “Yuri, you are gross,” I told him as I heard another phtt hit the kitchen roof.

  “Dyakuyu.”

  That means thank you. Trust Yuri to think being gross was a compliment.

  I didn’t say any more; we would only get into an argument and I didn’t have time. Instead, I inspected my boots. Mud was still caked to the soles after last week’s training when it had rained and rained for the whole session and turned the field into a swamp. Still, at least the mud made them look bigger. My feet had grown so much that they pinched my heels and toes harder than Mrs Gres, my old schoolteacher, used to pinch naughty pupils’ cheeks.

  “If you like, you could use that spit to clean these for me,” I told Yuri.

  Yuri did not respond to my kind offer. Instead he carried on hoiking.

  I spun round. “You still have chores to do, you know,” I reminded him.

  “Such as?”

  “Such as looking after Sofi.” Sofi is our three-year-old sister.

  “She doesn’t need me,” Yuri replied, levering himself away from the window and going to sit on her camp-bed, wedged across from ours. “She’s watching SpongeBob SquarePants with Uncle.”

  I shoved my boots into a carrier bag. “Wash the breakfast things, then.”

  “I daren’t. I might have a heart attack with the excitement.”

  “Funny boy!” I mumbled and dashed downstairs.

  In the hallway, the door to the front room was slightly ajar. I did not wish to disturb vital TV-viewing, so I hastened through to the kitchen and out into the back garden.

  Uncle’s back garden was long and narrow with a cracked cement path down the middle. To the left of the path was an overgrown vegetable patch and to the right was what had once been a rose garden. Casting long shadows over both sides were brick walls straddled with thick ivy and honeysuckle. I loved it. We’d never had a garden in Lviv.

  I sat on the back step, scraping the hard mud off my boots and feeling quite content – until I felt a plop on my head and looked up to see Yuri grinning down at me. My hair! He had spat on my hair!

  I jumped up, outraged, and called him names I would never have dared to use if Mama or Tato had been home.

  “Hey, hey, hey!” a voice behind me chided. I turned to see Uncle looking at me. “That is no way to talk to your brother.”

  “He spat on my head!” I explained, blushing.

  Uncle chuckled. “If a bird poops on your head they say it is good luck.”

  “Yuri’s not a bird! He’s a ropukha…”

  “A what?”

  “A toad. A dirty toad.”

  “Ah! Of course. I forget words these days. I forget them in English and I forget them in Ukrainian. What can you do, eh? What can you do when your brain turns to mush?”

  “Don’t feel bad. It’s a long time since you lived there,” I told him. He left Ukraine in 1947. Babka – my grandma and his sister – hasn’t seen him since then. I glanced up at the bedroom window. If only I could say the same about my brother!

  Uncle shuffled forward, his gnarled hands curled round the handle of his walking-frame as if glued to it.

  “Do you need help to the lavatory, Uncle?” I asked, for that was the main reason he ventured into the garden.


  The lavatory was at the very end in a tiny brick building. There was one upstairs, of course, but until he had his hip operation Uncle couldn’t manage the stairs, so Tato had fixed up the old outdoor one for him. I was glad I didn’t have to use it; the place was cold and damp – but Uncle didn’t seem to mind.

  “No, no. I’m fine as long as I take it steady,” he replied.

  Quickly, I kicked away my boots so he would not trip over them and stood aside so he could pass. I glanced behind us, into the house. “Is Sofi all right, do you know?”

  “Sofiya is fast asleep, like an angel.”

  “I’ll walk with you, then.”

  It was much harder walking slowly than quickly. The only thing to do was talk a lot.

  “I’m going on the football trip this afternoon,” I told him.

  He glanced at me and smiled, his bushy dark eyebrows overlapping each other like a swan’s wings. “Ah yes. The World Cup.”

  “Yes.”

  “I remember when England won the World Cup in 1966.”

  “Do you?”

  “I watched it on TV in someone’s house – someone I worked with in the hosiery factory. I didn’t have a TV then. Not many did.”

  “No?” I asked, keen for him to tell me more. Unlike Yuri, who always pulled a bored face when Uncle began to reminisce, I enjoyed listening to his stories – especially when they were about football.

  “And when Hurst scored that fourth goal! Oh! Everyone went crazy.”

  “I bet.”

  “Someone knocked over the standard lamp. It crashed to the floor and landed on my shoes, breaking the light bulb. There were splinters of glass in my socks.”

  “Ouch.”

  “I didn’t mind. I was happy too. I was always happy for anyone to beat the Germans…” He paused, a thoughtful look on his face. “What I didn’t agree with was the England team being called heroes afterwards. It was an achievement, yes. But heroes? No, no, no.”

  I grinned up at him, knowing what he meant. “Not compared with Kolya and the others, eh, Uncle?”

  “Exactly.” He nodded, his dark eyes suddenly alight. “Exactly.”

  Of all the stories Uncle had told me from his childhood, this was my favourite: about when he had watched a team called FC Start take on the German team Flakelf during the Second World War. The things he had told me about that match had made my hair stand on end. Every time I think of Uncle actually being there, I am filled with awe.

  I was about to ask him a question when he stopped and began fumbling in his cardigan pocket for his hanky. I waited as he wiped his mouth, returned the hanky and looked round with a frown on his face, as if he had forgotten what he was doing outside.

  “Keep going, Uncle, you’re nearly there,” I urged.

  “Nearly there? Hah! A snail would be quicker,” he replied with a shake of his head. “Tell me about your World Cup, Veronika.”

  “Mine? Oh, OK. Well, we’ll play lots of matches because the Under 11s is the most popular age range.”

  “That’s good. You will be fit for the new season, then.”

  “And we’re staying in something called a chalet. It’s like a little wooden house.”

  “You must be very excited.”

  “I am – although we have to share rooms. I hope I get to share with someone I like.”

  “Whoever you get can’t be worse than Yuri, huh?”

  “True,” I agreed, even though it wasn’t, quite. There was one person on the team that Yuri would be heaps preferable to, and that was Jenny-Jane Bayliss.

  For some reason she did not like me. She hadn’t said anything as such; it was just a feeling I’d had, especially over the last few weeks. For example, on Tuesday at the training session to prepare for the tournament, Hannah asked us to get into pairs and Jenny-Jane walked off in the opposite direction, even though I was standing right next to her. Talk about making things obvious! I didn’t know what I had done to Jenny-Jane but sharing a room with her for three nights would be maytki.

  We reached the cherry-coloured doorway of the lavatory. “You have arrived!” I told Uncle, trying to sound cheerful.

  He laughed. “What? So soon!”

  2

  Waiting for us on our return was Sofi, her wispy hair stuck to her chubby cheeks, her bottom lip jutting out. “You didn’t come when I called you! You didn’t come and I didn’t know where you were.”

  “I was here, silly,” I said, offering her my hand.

  She yawned and slid her hand in mine. It was warm and sticky. “You didn’t come,” she repeated.

  “Veronika, your boots,” Uncle reminded me as I helped him and Sofi up the step.

  “Yes, Uncle, thank you.”

  “Always look after your boots. Look after your boots and they will look after you…”

  Before I could reply, a loud banging on the front door startled all three of us. They were here!

  Megan, my captain, beamed at me, her face shiny and excited. “Last port of call for Sherburn Sands! All aboard who’s coming aboard!”

  Behind her, I could see our minibus parked in the middle of the street. Several faces peered through the windows and my team-mates waved at me.

  “Please wait,” I said, panicking. “I just have to…” I turned, almost bumping into Yuri.

  He dumped my bag at my feet. “Your belongings, ma’am.”

  I frowned at him. What was this? My brother being helpful! “Is everything in there? My toothbrush? My kit?” I asked anxiously.

  He bowed. “Your toothbrush. Your kit. Your Highness.”

  “You’re sure?” I said. If he was playing one of his tricks…

  “I’m sure.” He gave me a sheepish grin. “And about the hair thing?”

  I had forgotten the hair thing! My scalp suddenly tingled. “Yes?”

  “Just water.”

  “I believe you,” I said, giving him a swift kiss on the cheek. I dashed into the front room and kissed Uncle and Sofi, too, then darted back into the hallway. “Be good,” I instructed Yuri, hoisting my bag onto my shoulders and following Megan into the street. My heart began beating fast. It was actually happening. World Cup tournament, here I come! I turned and waved at the three figures at the window – and for a moment I didn’t want to go. But only for a moment.

  3

  I was the last one to be picked up so the minibus was already full. As well as Megan, Lucy, Petra, Gemma, Eve and Jenny-Jane, there were Megan’s mum and dad plus Hannah and Katie, the team coaches. Luckily, Lucy had saved me a seat near the back. Everyone high-fived me as I passed, apart from Jenny-Jane, who had her face turned to the window. See, I told you what she was like. I tried not to mind. It’s a free world, right? Instead I snuggled up between Lucy and Eve and let my adventure begin.

  By the time the minibus reached Sherburn Sands, two hours later, we had discussed many things, from how to tell if a hamster is dead or just asleep to what we thought our new teachers in September would be like. Most importantly, we had decided who would share rooms with whom during the tournament. Megan, Petra and Jenny-Jane would be in one chalet with Mr and Mrs Fawcett, and the rest of us would be in the other one with Katie and Hannah. I had squeezed Lucy hard, I was so relieved.

  Only when Katie slowed down over the speed bumps did we stop talking, and then only for about a second.

  “It’s massive!” Petra gasped as we took in the lawns and blocks of buildings spreading out in front of us.

  “There’s the sea!” Lucy said, pointing at a gap between a glass-domed building and a huge marquee.

  I craned my neck to look. The first time I had seen the sea was when we had flown over the English Channel to come to England. “It’s wonderful,” I whispered as the sun twinkled on the greeny-grey surface.

  “It’s just the sea.” Jenny-Jane sniffed. “What’s the big deal?”

  Katie pulled up in the car park in front of the accommodation block. There were several other coaches, cars and minibuses already there, and people were
toing and froing with bags and boxes.

  “Hang on while I find out what’s what,” Hannah told us, jumping down from the front seat. We watched as she approached a man in navy tracksuit bottoms and a green short-sleeved T-shirt. He nodded and ticked something off the list he was carrying.

  Hannah bounded back to us. “Chalets seventeen and eighteen. Let’s go, gang!”

  Our chalets were so neat: freshly coated in white paint with their own lawn and flower-bed outside. Megan’s group’s chalet was directly above ours. Theirs had a veranda!

  Inside it was bright and airy, with orange sofas and stripy beanbags and laminate wood flooring in one half of the living area, and an open-plan kitchen at the other. The bedroom that I was sharing with Lucy was so uncluttered compared with the one at Uncle’s.

  “I thought it would be bigger,” Lucy stated, glancing round at the twin beds and beech dressing table between.

  “I love it!”

  “You love everything, Kozak!”

  Hannah stuck her head round the door and grinned. “You two up for some grub?”

  “Grub?” I asked in dismay. “Like a caterpillar?”

  “Grub. Like a pizza!” She laughed.

  I don’t think I will ever learn all the slang words English people use.

  4

  The self-service restaurant was a short walk away. Inside it was teeming. I had never seen so many girls all at once! Girls of all ages, colours, shapes and sizes, and all making so much noise. It was a little overwhelming, but my stomach leapt with excitement. I had to pinch myself to make sure this was really happening.

  After our meal of spaghetti bolognese and salad we headed to the marquee. Megan told me that this was where the presentations would be made on Sunday evening to the winners of this year’s World Cup. “I’ve already planned the acceptance speech.” She grinned.

  We stuck together, finding a row of seats near the middle. As more and more teams entered, the noise in the marquee was crazy-loud until a group of adults arrived on the stage and everything calmed down.