Eyes Closed

In a team of fifteen, Bilal is the fifteenth best, and certainly the least confident. He knows it, the coach knows it, and on most Wednesdays he watches the match from a plastic chair with his coat over his knees.

This Wednesday they play the school on the opposite side of Wardown Park. Two players are ill. Then, after ten minutes, one of them falls badly on the wet grass, and the coach says Bilal's name. Bilal takes off his coat.

The team's star scores first, the way he always does. Bilal touches the ball twice in half an hour. The first time he passes it to nobody. The second time it hits his back.

Then the other school scores, and there are four minutes left. There is a crowd of legs in front of the goal, the ball comes out of it, and Bilal kicks it as hard as he can with his eyes closed. He hears the sound before he sees anything.

Denbigh wins, two goals to one.

After the match, everybody has an explanation. The coach says Bilal was standing in the right place. A boy in his class says he waited for the mistake.

On Monday, three people stop him in the hall and ask how he did it. He gives the same answer every time: he closed his eyes and kicked it. Nobody believes him, and he doesn't mind. It's the first time anybody has asked him anything about football.