Criminology in Africa

Jayne Bauling

Description

Ginelle is the captain of the Sandview D team and she is intent on winning, whatever it takes. But Ginelle�s leadership style does not bring out the best in her team, and when talent scouts come to view their game, Ginelle is forced to re-evaluate what winning really means.

Sujets

• Law

Informations

• Publié par: Cover2Cover Books
• Date de parution: 07 mars 2018
• Nombre de lectures: 5
• EAN13: 9781928346609
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

Chapter 1
Ginelle stood watching some of the other Sandview D players taking shots at goal while they waited for Coach Ofeimun to come and start their soccer practice.
Her friend Elethu always gave one hundred percent. Next Jabsi took her turn, and then Asanda. They were both so talented, they easily put the ball past goalkeeper Muzi. The surprise was Pateka, the way she had Muzi diving the wrong way. As team captain, Ginelle felt proud of how Pateka’s kicking had improved.
Pateka turned and came running towards her, and Ginelle smiled, ready to tell her how pleased she was.
“Ginelle, is it all right if I leave early today?” Pateka asked.
“Are you serious?” With disappointment rising, Ginelle put her hands on her hips and gave Pateka her fiercest look.
“Just this once, Ginelle,” Pateka pleaded. “We’ve got this big test tomorrow. I’m not one of those clever people. I need plenty of time to study.”
Ginelle felt impatient. “Like some school test is more important than us winning matches? We’re getting to the end of the season, with all these mega matches coming up, Surfway FC and those other clubs.”
“I’m sorry.” Pateka sounded upset. “It’s only for today’s practice. I won’t do it again.”
“Today, when we’re meant to work on our game plan for Saturday.” Then Ginelle gave it up in disgust, shrugging her shoulders. “Fine, go then. I don’t suppose you’ll be any great loss. That kick of yours just now was probably a fluke. Come on, Seagulls, let’s go.”
She ran on to the practice pitch, joining the other girls and three boys who made up Sandview’s Under 17 D squad. Coach Ofeimun came striding over to them.
It was one of those clear but windy afternoons that made your nose run and your eyes water. Ginelle pretended not to notice when Pateka left the field halfway through the training session. Jirre, she would never understand players like Pateka. Didn’t they get how important soccer was? How important winning was?
Man, winning was totally the best feeling in the world, and she loved being left forward, or striker as she preferred to call it because that sounded more dramatic.
“A good practice,” Coach Ofeimun said in her cool Nigerian accent at the end of the session, when their shadows stretched long on the patchy grass.
“Even without that fader Pateka,” Ginelle agreed, staying behind on the field with the coach while the others jogged away.
“Are you on that girl’s case again, Ms Davids?” the coach drawled. “Don’t think she’ll just take it forever. One of these fine days she is going to turn around and bite you back.”
Ginelle pulled a face. If she was on Pateka’s case, it felt like the coach was always on hers these days. What was her problem? They were still winning, weren’t they, same as they’d been doing nearly all season?
It was tempting to say it out loud, but better to zip her lip, Ginelle decided. She admired the tall coach too much to want to get into an all-out argument with her. Like, she was only Nneka Ofeimun, once a top player in the Nigerian national women’s team until something bad had happened with her parents and her little girl had stopped speaking.
So she just said, “We’re going to finish the season even better than we started, don’t you think, ma’am?”
The coach laughed. “So much so, that the club bosses think we’re going to have to look at you switching leagues next season and making you into the top girls’ team in the Western Cape.
For a moment, Ginelle’s blood fizzed with excitement at the thought. Then she blew out a big breath.
“If only we can get enough brilliant girl players to replace Kaya and Muzi and Grootman,” she said.
“Or turn enough reasonably good players into brilliant ones,” the coach said, and Ginelle could hear how she looked forward to such a challenge. “Yes, we’ll miss those boys, Kaya especially. He’s managing his asthma well, and he has improved a lot, especially as a free-kick taker.”
“Ja, he’s bending it lekker these days, hey?” Ginelle agreed, pulling on her tracksuit top and zipping it up.
“Actually, the bosses want a meeting with me and the other coaches tomorrow evening,” the coach said. “Would you be free to babysit Chioma?”
There were just the coach and her daughter, so Ginelle and some other players who lived near the coach sometimes babysat.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Sharp. See you six o’clock tomorrow then.”
Coach Ofeimun strolled off, still only wearing shorts and a thin vest, as if she didn’t feel the cold. Ginelle caught up with the rest of her team at the edge of the field.
“Big news about next season,” she told them as she picked up the hat with earflaps that she’d dropped earlier.
“Hint, hint,” Asanda mocked, winding a long scarf round her neck.
“What, Ginelle?” Elethu asked.
“Guess?” Ginelle teased.
“C’mon, girl, tell us,” Jabsi urged.
So she did, and at least some of them were as excited as she felt, but then Elethu said, “But what will happen to our boys?”
“Dunno,” Ginelle admitted, seeing Muzi looking worried. “Maybe they’ll create an extra boys only team, or D will become an all-boys team and we’ll be the A girls.”
“Don’t worry about us, man,” Kaya piped up. “We’ll play ourselves up into C or B or even A, like Lunga did.”
Ginelle grinned, liking his attitude. She could just imagine him doing it; he had become an excellent right midfielder. She wasn’t so sure about the other two.
The players started to go their separate ways, some heading home, and a few waiting for their boyfriends in the other teams.
“Looks like A have finished,” Ginelle said, seeing Elethu’s boyfriend Lunga coming towards them.