Uncle Simon's Training

Uncle Simon was a professional goalkeeper when he studied at Rosewood academy at his young age and was known for his lightning-fast reflexes and unmatched skill between the goalposts. 

But Kenny doesn't know about uncle Simon's football achievements.

Uncle Simon had kept his football career a secret from the family, content to live a quiet life away from the spotlight. He decided it was time to share his knowledge and expertise with Kenny.

The headmaster, Thompson, is a kind-hearted man and a great football fan. So Simon spun a web of tales about Kenny's imaginary football accomplishments to him for Kenny's admission.

When Simon broke this news to Kenny, his eyes lit up with a mixture of confusion.

"Me, a goalkeeper?" Kenny stammered, his heart racing, "But I don't even know how to play properly!"

"Oh, don't worry Kenny," Simon reassured him, patting him on the back. "You'll be just fine, trust me."

"What if I mess up, What if I let everyone down?" he fretted, his brow creased with worry.

But Simon was there, as always, with a smile and a word of encouragement. "You've got this, Kenny."

With only three days left for the upcoming football match, Kenny was feeling the pressure mounting on his shoulders. Kenny knew he needed to step up his game if he wanted to help his team emerge victorious.

It was a crisp Saturday morning, and the sun shone brightly through the curtains of Kenny's bedroom. The young boy stirred in his bed, blinking asleep with his eyes as he remembered that it was a holiday from school. He realized that he had the whole day ahead of him to learn and practice for the game.

Downstairs, Uncle Simon was already up, brewing a pot of coffee in the kitchen.

As Kenny descended the stairs, the smell of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the sweet aroma of pancakes cooking on the stove. He greeted his uncle with a broad grin.

"Good morning, Kenny!" Uncle Simon called out, his voice cheery. "Ready for a day of fun?"

Kenny nodded enthusiastically, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "What are we going to do today, Uncle Simon?"

Uncle Simon chuckled, flipping a pancake with expert precision. "Well, I thought today we could work on something special."

Kenny rubbed his eyes, curiosity piqued. "What are we going to do, Uncle Simon?".

Uncle Simon chuckled, "how would you like to learn some tricks to be a goalkeeper?"

"Yes, please!" Kenny exclaimed.

Uncle Simon laughed and ruffled Kenny's hair affectionately. "Finish your breakfast, and then we'll head out to the backyard to start our training."

After devouring a plate of pancakes, Kenny followed Uncle Simon outside to the lush green expanse of the backyard.

They arrived at a large field surrounded by trees. Kenny's eyes widened in disbelief as he saw the backyard being transformed into a makeshift football pitch, with cones marking the goalposts and a stack of footballs waiting to be kicked.

"Uncle Simon, what is all this?" Kenny asked, his voice filled with wonder.

"This, my boy, is your very own practice field," Uncle Simon replied with a smile. "I want to help you become the best goalkeeper you can be."

Kenny's heart swelled with gratitude and excitement at the thought of honing his skills under his uncle's guidance.

As they started their practice, Kenny's nerves began to flare up. He knew that with a simple glance into the future, he could outwit his uncle at every turn. But something inside him resisted. He didn't want to rely on his gift to excel in the game; he wanted to earn his skills through hard work and dedication.

Uncle Simon led Kenny to the goalpost and began to outline the basics of goalkeeping – positioning, reflexes, and agility. Kenny listened intently, absorbing every word his uncle said.

"Alright, Kenny, let's start with some warm-up drills," Uncle Simon called out. 

He tossed the ball gently towards Kenny, who fumbled the catch, the ball slipping through his fingers like quicksilver.

Uncle Simon chuckled, "Don't worry Kenny, let's try that again, this time with a bit more focus."

Uncle Simon positioned himself in front of the goalpost and said, "I'm going to take some shots at you, and you need to try and stop, remember to stay on your toes and keep your eyes on the ball."

Kenny nodded eagerly, his heart pounding with excitement. He took his position in front of the goal, his eyes fixed on Uncle Simon as he wound up for the first shot.

Uncle Simon guided Kenny through a series of basic drills, teaching him the proper stance, how to dive for the ball, and how to anticipate the shooter's moves. With each fumbled catch and missed save, Kenny's frustration grew like a storm cloud on the horizon.

"Being a goalkeeper is not just about stopping shots, Kenny," Uncle Simon said, his voice full of gravitas. "It's about anticipating the opponent's moves, reading their body language, and being one step ahead at all times."

Kenny nodded eagerly, his heart pounding with excitement. Uncle Simon began to kick the ball, his shots swift and accurate. Kenny dove and leaped, his hands stretching out to block the ball. He stopped only a few shots, but Uncle Simon was patient, correcting his mistakes gently and encouraging him to try again.

Uncle Simon began to kick the ball again.

The ball came hurtling towards Kenny, its trajectory swift and unpredictable. With lightning-fast reflexes, Kenny dove to the side, his gloved hands reaching out to block the shot. The impact reverberated through his body, but he held his ground, his eyes never leaving the ball.

But Uncle Simon was undeterred. His patience was as boundless as the sky above them. "Great save, Kenny!" Uncle Simon cheered, clapping his hands. "Let's try that again." He praised Kenny's efforts, no matter how small, and offered gentle corrections to help him improve. And yet, despite Uncle Simon's best efforts, Kenny's progress remained stagnant, like a boat caught in still waters.

For hours, Kenny and Uncle Simon worked tirelessly in the backyard, honing Kenny's skills as a goalkeeper. They practiced diving saves, high jumps to catch airborne balls, and quick footwork to anticipate the shooter's movements. 

Again Kenny fumbled yet another catch, he threw his gloves to the ground in frustration. "I'm no good at this, Uncle Simon," he muttered, his voice filled with defeat.