Match Night

As autumn came to a chilly end, so did the first half of the Voetball season. The day had come for Jani’s trip to Amsterdam with his father.
Jani sat in the Tulip House with his mother, dunking sweetbreads in his teacup and enjoying them with sips of freshly brewed ginger tea. Ajax laid between them, his head on his paws, constantly on the lookout for dropped sweetbread crumbs.
“I wonder what your father is up to,” said mother. Mr. Van Heeswijk had been over every night of the week, frantically working on their surprise for Mrs. Van Heeswijk.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” said Jani.
“I know but…”
“Just hold on five more days,” said Jani.
Indeed, with the end of Voetball season came the arrival of Sinterklaas and Zwarte Piet’s boat in Amsterdam. Not long after that, there would be surprises and winter break for the children, too. Some children waited for the arrival of Saint Nicholas, but Jani waited for match night. In anticipation of the big game, his nights had been all but sleepless.
“I think I’m heading over to Rolf’s,” said Jani.
“Just hold out five more hours,” teased his mother.
Jani went down to the workshop and gave a knock on the door. Mr. Van der Veld poked his head into the hallway.
“Come in, I thought it was your nosy mother,” said his father.
Mr. Van Heeswijk and Mr. Van der Veld were literally putting the final pieces of Mrs. Van Heeswijk’s gift together. Pieces of furniture of all shapes and uses, lined the walls of Mr. Van der Veld’s tiny workshop. It was enough to fill a small house.
“Can you apply varnish?” asked Mr. Van Heeswijk.
“Are there any tricks to it?”
“Just paint it on and use this rag to wipe off any runs or drips.”
“I think I can do that,” answered Jani.
The three men worked feverishly, putting the finishing touches on Mrs. Van Heeswijk’s surprise. Upstairs, Mrs. Van der Veld wondered if her son had disappeared. She came up to the workshop door and rapped gently.
“What’s the secret word?” called out Mr. Van der Veld.
“There isn’t a secret word,” replied Mrs. Van der Veld.
“I just made one up. I’m thinking of a color.”
Mrs. Van der Veld searched her head, trying to figure out what color Mr. Van der Veld would have locked in his head. His favorite color was yellow. Maybe that was it. Before she replied, she had another thought. Today, the boys were going to the Ajax game. She could not remember their team colors.
“Red!” she called out proudly.
“How did you…?” Mr. Van der Veld paused for a moment, then replied, “No!”
“What do you mean ‘No’? You were thinking of red.”
“Actually it was more of an off-red.”
“Gil!” groaned Mrs. Van der Veld.
The boys shared a laugh as they applied stain to the furniture. They talked about the match, too. It was almost time to leave. Mr. Van der Veld turned on the fan to finish the drying process. They closed the door on their work before Mr. Van der Veld snapped the latch closed and applied the combination lock on the door.
“That should keep it safe from your mother,” he said.
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” said Jani.
They said their goodbyes and loaded into Mr. Van der Veld’s delivery truck. As soon as they picked up Rolf, the men were on the A2 Highway, the main road between Utrecht and Amsterdam.
The tree-lined highway stretched out before them, crowded with cars. Nearing the city meant waiting in traffic. Passengers in other cars cheered and booed Jani and Rolf’s Ajax jerseys. A group of college boys waved their Utrecht flag from the back of a crowded pickup truck. In the parking lot, it was more of the same as people headed for the stadium.
Unlike home, nearly everyone in the stadium wore the Ajax colors. Jani’s father handed out he tickets and gave Jani some spending money.
“This is for you. We’re going to stop by the pub and we’ll meet you in the stands right before the game, okay?”
“See you then,” said Jani.
THe boys sought out a knockwurst stand and waited in line. Along the opposite side of the walkway, there were several vendors and a kicking game. Boys waited their turn to kick a ball into a goal. A speed gun measured the speed of their kicks.
“Want to see how fast we can kick?” asked Rolf.
“After we grab a bite to eat.”
The cashier placed their order on a cardboard tray which Rolf carried to a bench. The boys stood next to the bench as they ate and drank. Each boy at the kicking game had three kicks. Jani and Rolf made it a game to see who could guess each boy’s kicking speed.
“Who do you think will be faster between us?” said Rolf.
“You, of course.”
“You have a strong kick.”
“I’m faster and you’re stronger.”
“I don’t think so,” replied Jani, “but we’ll see.”
When they came to be next in line, Jani took out a coin and flipped it in the air. Rolf called heads. The coin landed heads up.
“I’ll go last,” said Rolf.
Jani stepped up and took his kick. It traveled at 88 Kph. His score fell right in the middle range of all the boys they had seen kicking balls at the goal. Rolf stepped up and several boys crowded around. Rolf was almost a full head taller and carried an extra 60 kilograms of body mass. Jani fully expected that Rolf’s kick would be over 100 Kph.
Rolf aimed his shot and put it directly in the corner of the goal. If there had been a goalkeeper, the shot surely would have made it. The ball snapped in the netting and bounced in the rear of the goal.
“Oh!” said Jani. Several boys in line gasped.
Rolf stepped backward to look at the display: 54 Kph.
“How is that possible?” exclaimed Jani.
“He shot at the corner of the goal. The meter gets different readings from differently angled shots.
“Can I try again?” asked Rolf.
“Only if you get in the back of the line and wait agin.”
Rolf glanced back at the waiting line. Tens of boys gathered for the game. Rolf shrugged his shoulders. “I guess we’ll never know,” he said.
The boys took a walk around the stadium, then found their seats just before the game. Their fathers were already there. The seats were lined up directly behind one of the corner kick areas. It was a perfect place to see goals scored at that end.
Jani looked through his binoculars, spying on the players as they stretched on the field before the game. He spotted Sergio Valdez, the Ajax football player from the Brazilian team. Sergio’s jersey number was 5, just like Jani’s jersey for his Youth team.
When the game started, Utrecht guarded the goal in front of Jani. That meant he would get a chance to see his favorite player shooting on goal in the first half.
In the stands, giant red and blue flags waved. People sang cheers for their teams and shouted for their favorite players. Jani and Rolf poked the bottom out of their drink cups, using them as megaphones. They shouted for Sergio while another group of boys chanted “A-Jax! A-Jax! A-Jax!” Stadium horns also filled the enclosed stadium with their low notes.
Everyone in Jani’s section cheered loudly until Utrecht scored the first goal of the game, at the far end of the field. The few Ajax fans jumped and cheered.
The second half didn’t start out much better than the first half. F. C. Ajax spent most of the half defending their own goal in front of Jani and Rolf. A corner kick flew into the air in front of the goal, only to be punched out of bounds by the goalie.
Team Utrecht had another shot at Ajax’s goal. This time, the corner kicker missed completely, hooking the ball out of bounds.
The goalkeeper placed the ball in front of the goal, kicking it to midfield. An Ajax player dribbled for a bit, then spotted Sergio near the goal. He passed the ball to the lead striker, Sergio. Sergio bounced the ball off his chest and kicked the ball just as it bounced off the ground. Over the goal it went.
The ball came back to Jani and Rolf’s end of the field until just before the end of the game. The clock ran out, but the game was not over. The announcer declared six minutes of extra time.
A player kicked it past midfield and the Ajax forward dribbled towards the goal. A defender dove in for a sliding tackle. As he Utrecht defender kicked the ball away, he knocked the Ajax player off his feet.
“Foul!” shouted Mr. Van Heeswijk. The crowd joined in, whistling and booing. The referee sounded his whistle and motioned for a penalty kick.
The Ajax coach substituted another striker for the penalty kick. That surprised the crowd, too.
The player twirled the ball in his hand before placing it on the penalty spot. As soon as the referee blew his whistle, the striker charged the ball, shooting at the goal.
The goalkeeper deflected the ball from the goal. The striker chipped the deflected ball over the goalie’s outstretched hands. The ball landed in the back of the net. Now the score was tied 1-1.
And that’s how the game ended in a hard-fought tie. Jani frowned, unhappy that Ajax couldn’t pull out a win.
“A tie is better than a loss,” said Mr. Van Heeswijk.
“I guess so,” said Jani.
As the boys filed out of the stands, Jani’s father spotted several players signing autographs. He handed the game program to Jani.
“What’s this for?” asked Jani.
“There’s Sergio. If you hurry, you might be able to get his signature.”
Jani and Rolf went to the fence and waited as Sergio signed everything from books to jerseys to one boy’s forearm.
“Give me the book,” said Rolf.
Rolf pushed ahead of the crowd with the program in his outstretched arm. Sergio reached across the sea of books and picked Jani’s program. He signed it and passed it back to Rolf. Rolf pushed away from the crowd and handed the signed program to Jani.
“Thanks,” said Jani.
“My pleasure,” replied Rolf.
The boys rolled sleeping bags out in the back of the truck, riding in the back the whole way to Utrecht. They dropped Rolf and his father at the houseboat, then headed home. When they arrived, the Van der Veld house was dark and silent. When Jani went upstairs, he only found Trudy on her bed, reading a book.
“Where’s mom?” asked Jani.
“The last time I saw her, she was fiddling with the lock on the door to the workshop.”
Jani followed his father down the steps. As they neared the workshop, Mr. Van der Veld turned on the light in the kitchen. The bottom half of a body laid in the back hall. The hinges from the door had been unscrewed. The hinges, screws, and screwdriver sat on the floor next to the lower half of Mrs. Van der Veld’s body. The other half poked through the door into the workshop.
“Marina?”
“What?” grumbled a voice from the other side of the door.
“Would you like some help?”
“I guess,” she sighed.
Mr. Van der Veld undid the combination lock and pulled the door away from the doorway. Mrs. Van der Veld got up and he replaced the door in the opening.
“Do you know how long I laid there?”
“Quite a while, if I were to give a guess.”
“Don’t I get to see what’s in the workshop?”
“Not until tomorrow morning,” replied Mr. Van der Veld
“Oh, come on,” she begged.
“Tomorrow,” he replied.
Mr. Van der Veld put the door in its proper place and attached the hinges. The pilot holes for the screws would need to be replaced. Hefigured the door would hold until the following morning, unless Marina’s curiosity got the better of her again. Mr. Van der Veld could only pray that she left the door alone for one more day.
Although the wait was almost over, it could not come soon enough for Mrs. Van der Veld. The door left sore spots where the door pinched her ribs. Luckily, her struggles with door had worn her out. She had a pleasant sleep, possibly having dreams of hungry doors, possibly dreaming of a successful break-in to the workshop. Either way, the dreams were sweet enough to let Mr. Van der Veld rest until the morning.