Lacrosse Face-Off

by Matt Christopher

  “Yeah, right, like I'd believe anything you'd say!” Todd spat. “I heard you yesterday morning.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Todd folded his arms across his chest. “Don't play innocent with me, Garry! I heard you talking with Evan. I believe your exact words were 'I'm going to make Todd quit.'” He jerked a thumb at his lacrosse stick.'"Well, it's going to take more than a stupid act of vandalism to get me off the team!”

  Jeff put an arm around Todd's shoulders. “Come on, Todd,” he said. “I've got a spare stick. You can use it until you get this one fixed."

  Todd started to turn away, but then he stopped. “Oh, and you better give me my cards back when we get home. I know you have them!” Then he stormed off, with Jeff at his heels.

  14

  Garry stood stock-still, trying to process what had just happened. His own brother thought he was a liar, a thief, and a vandal! And the worst part was, even though Garry knew Todd was mistaken, he could see why he thought those things. What he couldn't see was how he was going to convince his brother that he was wrong.

  Unfortunately, he didn't have time to work it out now. More players had filled the locker room to prepare for the game. If he didn't hurry, he'd be late. He quickly put on his pads, tugged his jersey over them, grabbed his helmet and stick, and headed out to the field.

  He was halfway there when he realized he'd forgotten his mouth guard. With a groan, he reversed direction and went back to the locker room. As he stepped inside, he heard whispers. He recognized the voices immediately: Evan and Michael. He froze in his tracks, listening.

  “I can't believe you did it! Totally awesome! I mean, that really took guts!” It was Evan, praising Michael for something yet again.

  Michael gave a low chuckle. “No kidding. But you know me,” he said, filling his voice with mock seriousness. “I'd do anything for the team!”

  “And the best part is,” Evan gloated, “he thinks Garry was the one who did it! His own brother! When really it was you who cut the mesh!”

  “Yep,” Michael replied. “Thanks to these here scissors!”

  Garry heard the soft snick of scissors being opened and closed. Mouth guard forgotten, he slowly backed away, easing the door shut so that it wouldn't make a sound.

  Michael was the one who ruined Todd's stick! I've got to tell Todd—and the coach! he thought frantically as he rushed back to the field.

  But when he got to the field he found his mother standing with Todd. She was trying to get him to take a sweatshirt from her.

  “Mom, I've not cold,” Todd said, shoving the shirt back at her.

  “Just in case,” she insisted.

  Todd gave up. “Fine! I'll use it as a cushion.” He snapped the sweatshirt open, then stared at it with a frown. “This isn't even mine, Mom.”

  Mrs. Wallis looked puzzled. “Isn't it? Then what were your cards doing wrapped up inside it?”

  Now it was Todd's turn to look confused. “My cards were wrapped up in this?”

  Mrs. Wallis tapped her finger against her chin. “Yes, but come to think of it, I found that at the back of Garry's closet on laundry day. Guess it's his.” She took the sweatshirt from Todd and handed it to Garry. “Here you go, honey. Well, good game, you two!”

  “Hold on,” Todd cried. “Mom, do you have my cards?”

  She nodded apologetically. “Oh, dear, I forgot to give them back to you, didn't I? They must still be in the closet in the bathroom, above the washer. Sorry, sweetie.” She gave Todd a peck on the cheek, then hurried to the bleachers.

  Garry and Todd stared at each other. Finally, Garry broke the silence.

  “I did have your cards,” he confessed. “But I thought you'd searched my room and found them.”

  “I figured you had them,” Todd admitted. “Why didn't you give them back?”

  Garry reddened. “I was mad at you. I know you ran away from me that day at the library.”

  Now it was Todd's turn to look uncomfortable. “I'm sorry about that. I just didn't want you to catch me playing…” His voice trailed off.

  “Catch you playing what? With your cards? I've seen you play with those lots of times!”

  “Not cards.” Jeff joined them. “Todd, why don't you just tell him what we were doing?”

  Todd sighed. “Wall ball,” he finally said.

  “Come again?”

  “Wall ball,” Todd repeated. “I was trying to get better at lacrosse by playing wall ball.”

  When Garry still didn't look as if he understood, Jeff explained. “Wall ball is a way to practice throwing and catching by yourself. You find a big wall, throw the ball against it, and catch it. There are different drills you can do, but basically it's throw and catch.”

  Garry remembered the sound he'd heard. “Then that weird noise was the ball hitting the wall,” he said. “Well, why didn't you want me to know about you playing wall ball?”

  “It was my idea, actually,” Jeff said. “Remember that first day at practice? You seemed a little, I don't know, embarrassed by Todd.” Garry hung his head. “And since it was obvious that Todd didn't know much about lacrosse”—here Todd hung his head—“I decided to see if I could help out. I borrowed a book of lacrosse drills from my dad and asked Todd if he'd like to get in some extra practice time with me.”

  “So that's what you've been doing with Jeff all those afternoons?” Garry asked his brother.

  Todd nodded. “I probably should have asked you to come too, but I don't know. I guess I wanted to surprise you or something.”

  Garry thought about how much better Todd had been playing lately and smiled. “You sure did surprise me. I mean, you really have improved, you know!”

  Todd grinned. “Thanks, bro.” Then his face darkened. “So does this mean you don't want me to quit the team anymore?”

  Garry held up his hands. “Todd, I never wanted you to quit.” He explained the true meaning behind what he'd said to Evan that morning. “And there's something else you should know,” he added, lowering his voice. “Michael was the one who ruined your stick.” In hushed tones, he told them what he'd learned in the locker room.

  “We've got to tell my dad!” Jeff said when Garry had finished.

  Garry had been thinking the same thing, but now he shook his head. “Michael will just deny it, and Evan will probably come to his defense, as usual.”

  “We can't just let him get away with it!” Jeff protested.

  “We won't,” Todd said, smiling a slow smile. “I have an idea, something we can do that will hit Michael right where it'll hurt him the most!” He whispered his plan to the other two boys.

  Jeff grinned. “It's brilliant!” he said. “But it won't be easy. It'll be like playing the whole game a man short. And we'll have to get some of the other Rockets in on it.”

  “I know Pedro would be up for it,” Garry said. “And I'd bet Conor would be too.”

  “Christopher can't stand Michael,” Todd assured them. “But stay away from Samuel and Eric. They're as much in love with him as Evan is.”

  “Come on,” Jeff said, “if we're going to do this, we have to do it now. The game's gonna start soon.”

  15

  Garry ran to the locker room to retrieve his mouth guard, then helped Todd and Jeff tell their plan to others on the team. Fifteen minutes later, more than half of their teammates had agreed to join in.

  “You know, it's about time we showed Michael what teamwork is really about,” Pedro said as he ran onto the field alongside Garry. Garry gave him a thumbs-up and took his position in the wings to await the face-off.

  As usual, Michael was in the center for the face-off. Before the referee came onto the field, he gave Garry and Pedro his usual signals to indicate they were to pass him the ball so he could score.

  “Not this time, bucko,” Garry said softly. Then the game began.

  Michael clamped and raked the ball clear of the circle. The ref signaled that the Rockets had possession. Garry charge
d forward and scooped up the ball. Michael was halfway to the Bulldogs goal and signaling for a pass.

  Garry glanced at him, then hurled the ball to Pedro, who, knowing a pass was coming his way, had streaked to the center. As Pedro caught the ball on the fly, Garry rushed down the sideline. Pedro flung him the ball and ran toward the goal.

  Garry had hoped to get Pedro a quick return pass, but his way was blocked by two burly Bulldogs. He heard Jeff call to him at the same time that Michael screamed for a pass. Garry stopped short, pivoted, and threw the ball—to Jeff.

  Jeff dodged around a Bulldog, did a perfect inside-and-out feint, and fired the ball at the Bulldogs goal. Swish! Score!

  “Beautiful!” Garry cried, pumping his fist in the air. Pedro high-fived Jeff on the way back to their starting positions. Michael looked as if he couldn't believe what had just happened.

  He had the same look three minutes later, when Jeff, Garry, Pedro, and Conor worked the ball around the field until Conor was able to take a shot. The ball hit the net, billowing it out backward, and another point was added to the Rockets side of the scoreboard. The Rockets cheered loudly.

  The Bulldogs, meanwhile, seemed confused that the Rockets weren't passing to Michael.

  “I thought the coach told us that number twenty-seven was the one to watch,” Garry overheard one Bulldog say to another. “That guy's not doing anything!”

  Garry grinned. That was Michael they were talking about!

  Coach Hasbrouck took Michael, Garry, and Pedro out of the game at the end of the first quarter. “But, Coach,” Garry heard Michael complain, “I haven't scored.”

  “And yet we're still winning five to one,” the coach answered, “so we must be doing something right.”

  Michael had no answer for that. He sat down, frowning. Garry and Pedro exchanged delighted looks, then turned their attention back to the game.

  Evan was now on the front line with Todd and Conor. Jeff was still in the game. He scooped up the ball after Conor raked it free in the face-off. With a quick flick, he sent it to Todd. It was a hard throw and Todd fumbled the ball. As it dropped to the ground, Michael snorted with disgust.

  “What a loser,” the older boy said.

  Garry stood up, walked over to where Michael was sitting, and stared down at him.

  “Hey, Wallis, clear off. You're in my way!” Michael said.

  “I'm going to say this one time, Donofrio,” Garry said, his voice so low and menacing that Michael looked up at him with surprise. “Stop knocking my brother. He's here to stay and he's here to play.”

  “And if I don't?” Michael replied, narrowing his eyes.

  “Then you can kiss any chance of being the league top scorer good-bye.”

  Michael's jaw dropped. “Did you hear that?” he said to Christopher, who was sitting next to him. “Can you believe what he just said to me?”

  Christopher looked from Michael to Garry and back. “Yeah,” he replied. “Wish I'd said it. Now pipe down so I can pay attention to the game.”

  Garry grinned the whole way back to his seat. He was still smiling when he went back into the game halfway through the second quarter—and when he scored the first of his four goals that game. The Rockets took the win easily, beating the Bulldogs.17-10. Michael had scored only two goals.

  After the game, Coach Hasbrouck called the team together. “I'm proud of you boys,” he said. “You did a great job working that ball around today. Even better, you made good use of every player on the field.”

  He put his hands in his pockets and looked up at the sky. “You know, my objective for this team is to make each of you better players by the end of the season. And the only way for me to do that is to make sure you get plenty of experience. That's why I make sure everyone on this team gets equal playing time.”

  He turned his gaze back to the team. “I know some of you don't like sitting on the bench. You think your place is on the field, scoring goals,”—he glanced at Michael—“and that the measure of a good team is how many goals you score against the other side.”

  He spread his hands. “But in my opinion, the strongest teams are those made up of players who work together. Like you all did today.” He grinned. “Okay, enough speeches for one day. Gather your stuff and head on home!”

  Garry picked up his stick and his equipment bag.

  “Coach Hasbrouck is such a turkey,” he heard Evan whisper to Michael.

  “No kidding,” Michael replied, his disgust plain. “Get my gear, will you?”

  “Sure thing, bro!”

  Garry shook his head. Michael and Evan, he realized, would never change. But that was okay. After all, he thought, watching his brother horse around with Jeff, there are plenty of other people I'd rather hang out with!

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  LACROSSE FACE-OFF

  Can Garry cross sticks with the team's best player and win?

  Todd Wallis is a sit-at-home kind of kid. So why has he suddenly joined his brother Garry's lacrosse team? The reason is simple: Todd had become overweight and was told by his doctor to start exercising. Unfortunately, Todd doesn't know the first thing about lacrosse—a fact that Garry finds very embarrassing. When Michael Donofrio, the team's best player, makes fun of Todd's lack of skill and extra weight, Garry is faced with a difficult decision: Should he turn on Todd to gain Michael's approval, or should he stand by his brother?

  Matt Christopher is the name young readers turn to when they're looking for fast-paced, action-packed sports stories. Check out the exciting sequel to Lacrosse Face-Off:

  For a complete list of all Matt Christopher titles, please turn to the last pages of this book.

  * Previously published as Crackerjack Halfback

  ** Previously published as Pr
essure Play