“That’s Jim Godwin, your coach next year.”
Todd was surprised. Coach Godwin looked like a soccer player, like he could step on the field right now.
And the tactic worked. Twice he held the ball and drew Jerry and another defender toward him. He ignored the shouts to pass. Then he shoved the ball between them and broke away. He scored both times.
Todd’s coach kept two guys covering Giorgio most of the time. He hardly got the ball in the second half. As the end of the game approached, Todd’s team was up, 2–0.
Then, for no good reason, Gates and Rudy sandwiched Jerry. They were all going for a high ball in front of the goalmouth when Rudy hit him high and Gates went in low. Rudy’s challenge was clean, but Gates intended to foul. Jerry came down hard on his back, with a grunt. The ref missed the foul, but Todd shouted in anger, yanking both of them by the shirt at the same time.
“You chumps!”
Rudy and Gates grabbed him in return, and Todd swung at them. Other players jumped in to stop the fight. Jerry was there, so he was not hurt. The ref stepped in, his whistle blasting.
The scuffle ended as quickly as it started. On the sidelines, Coach Jaynes was grinning for some reason. Todd’s chest heaved for air. Gates, however, had a bloody lip. Todd felt a scrape on his knuckles and realized he’d caught Gates with a punch.
The game was over now, and the ref told them all to calm down. The ref could have given red cards, but the season was over. A red card would have meant suspension for at least a game. Todd was lucky.
When Todd came off the field, his father introduced him to Mr. Godwin, the Ross Corners coach.
“Thanks for sticking up for Jerry,” Mr. Godwin said as they shook hands. “And I like the way you hold the ball, not afraid to dribble.”
Before everyone went home, Todd met all the Ross Corners players. They were friendly guys, all of them glad he was coming to their school. Todd met Jerry last, and he touched his forehead, just above the eyebrow. A small white scar was there.
“My doing?” Todd asked, feeling guilty.
“Yeah,” Jerry grinned and offered his hand. “But now we’re even.”
For the first time, Todd thought being invisible in Ross Corners might not be so bad after all.
Chapter Eight
“The Ball Is Your Friend”
Todd and Will worked out together one last time before their high school seasons started. It was at the Highfield soccer field on a morning early in September. Todd’s mother had driven him up while she was doing errands in town. Official practice had begun, and both knew how good their own teams would be. They took a water break and sat down to catch up on things.
Will didn’t have to say much, of course, because Todd knew the Highfield players and coach. For his part, Todd was even more enthusiastic about Ross Corners than he’d been when he first came to the Highfield varsity.
“Coach Godwin has us organized great on defense, and Jerry is terrific—”
“And the goalie?”
“Not as lucky as you, but good,” Todd joked.
“Any decent strikers?”
“Pretty good, but the key guy is our center midfielder, Giorgio. Great player, all the Brazilian technique and speed—”
“And floppery?”
“Huh?”
“Diver par excellence?”
“No, actually. He doesn’t play that way. He told me a lot of pro players on the big teams play like that in Brazil, but amateur teams play hard—just like Pelé did.”
Todd and Will had seen footage of the great Brazilian star of the twentieth century. Pelé never dove. Instead, he fought to stay on his feet. He usually drew fierce tackles and fouls.
Todd said, “Giorgio adores Pelé.”
“Like you do, dude?”
“Man, I’d be happy just to play like Giorgio.”
“So, you see much of cousin Mel these days?” Will asked.
That was the only problem. Those twenty miles between them were a long way when neither had a car yet.
“Just a few phone calls and text messages, but e-mails mostly,” Todd said. “She was away at tennis camp for almost a month.”
“And she’s always got those two chumps crowding her, which is to be expected, Rudy living next door and all,” Will said.
“Betsy keeps me updated on all that. She and Amanda are always gabbing on the phone or texting nonstop.”
“Ye gods! But Rudy and Gates are chumps. Too bad they didn’t move away instead of you, dude.”
Todd didn’t say it, but he actually liked playing for Ross Corners better than for Highfield. A lot better. For one thing, Coach Godwin was super, and he liked players to control the ball and try to do something with it—what Jaynes called “piddling with the ball.”
They went back out on the field. Todd fired more shots at Will, who saved almost all of them.
“Hey, Pelé, give me that lob into the corner.”
They practiced again and again, with Todd approaching from thirty yards on one side or the other of the goal. Will would seem to come out and commit, and Todd would loft the ball. But Will got to it every time. It was like he knew where it was going even before Todd kicked it.
“Man, you’re luckier than ever!” Todd said at last.
Will just laughed. “Hey, it’s not a game situation, so no pressure.”
Afterward, Todd wondered how Will had stopped every one of those high floaters. He really was better than ever. This was his year. He had to get that scholarship. Todd didn’t want to do anything to stand in his way. He still couldn’t imagine scoring against Will in a real game.
The soccer season started out fast and roared along. Ross Corners surprised everybody as they won game after game. Todd and Giorgio competed for high scorer, and Jerry was the anchor of the defense.
Coach Godwin seemed to know everything. He was a great teacher and a terrific soccer player. The players trusted him. For the first time in the school’s history, they had six wins and no losses—tied with Highfield for first place in the conference.
Todd made some good friends at Ross Corners, including Jerry and Giorgio. Giorgio was the best player Todd had ever played with.
One thing Giorgio never did was dive. His playing truly did remind Todd of those old Pelé game films. It took a lot to knock Giorgio down. He never stayed down but bounced up right away.
Giorgio was an inch-perfect passer and super midfield player. Also, he taught Todd more dribbling techniques. He also said something Todd would always remember.
During one game, Todd seemed unable to do anything right. Ross Corners was outplaying the other team but couldn’t score. Giorgio kept giving Todd great pass after great pass. But Todd missed the goal, again and again. He always shot high, over the crossbar.
By the end of the half, with the score 0–0, he’d lost confidence. By then, he was passing the ball off rather than shooting for the goal.
As they gathered for Coach Godwin’s halftime talk, Todd slumped down, glumly drinking from a water bottle. When Giorgio sat next to him, Todd shook his head.
“Sorry, man, I can’t do anything today.”
“You’re rushing it,” Giorgio said quietly, rubbing sweat from his face with a towel.
“I don’t know what I’m doing.” Todd looked down at the ground.
“Just hold the ball,” Giorgio said. “Remember, the ball is your friend.”
Todd looked at him, wondering what he meant.
“The ball is your friend, and it wants to play with you.” Giorgio grinned. “So don’t just pass it away. It’s your friend. It wants to play.”
Coach Godwin overheard Giorgio and smiled.
Todd was about to walk on the field for the second half with those words in his head: The ball is your friend. At the last moment, Coach Godwin called him back.
“The goals will come, Todd,” he said, patting Todd’s shoulder. “But remember, you have to keep the ball if you want to score.”
It was as
if a light went on in Todd’s head. His coach had shown confidence in him, even though all those first-half shots had been wasted. The goals will come. Keep the ball.
The chance came within a few minutes of kickoff, with another perfect pass from Giorgio. Todd was about thirty yards away, uncovered, and he turned toward the goal. A defender was coming at him. Todd wound up to shoot, but he was too far out. The defender was on him now. Todd faked a shot, the defender lunged. Todd went around him and into the penalty box.
“Shoot!” the Ross Corners crowd was yelling. “Take it! Shoot!”
Two more defenders were closing in now. Todd again faked to shoot, then to dribble. In the next instant, he pushed the ball between the surprised defenders and burst through. The goalie was coming out fast, but Todd calmly fired the ball on the ground, passing the keeper’s foot by inches and into the net.
“Very nice,” Giorgio laughed, hugging him. “Very nice soccer playing.”
That goal started an avalanche, as Ross Corners won, 7–0, with Todd scoring three and setting up the others. It was a lesson he’d never forget, thanks to Giorgio and Coach Godwin.
Coach Godwin got the very best out of all of them. The Ross Corners defense had become confident. Defensive players were even encouraged to hold the ball when they had space to run with it upfield. Coach Godwin didn’t want them always to boot it away, but to take their time, to look to make a short pass, or to dribble into the clear. If they lost it, he encouraged them instead of yelling at them. Todd couldn’t have been happier.
Until there came a problem with Melanie.
Because Melanie was busy with tennis season, she and Todd didn’t see each other these days. Because their schedules were so busy and usually conflicted, they didn’t have time to talk on the phone either. When Todd did write her an e-mail, he seldom got an answer.
The first e-mail from Melanie that troubled him said he shouldn’t e-mail, text, or call her for a while. She said she had to “study.” Then, before he could reply, another e-mail said he shouldn’t contact her at all for a while.
She wrote, “Just don’t e-mail or call until ferther notice.”
“What happened to her?” he thought. “Can’t even spell further right?”
Soccer and school, along with helping out at the greenhouse, took up all of Todd’s time. He didn’t even visit Highfield. He did write one more e-mail asking how Melanie’s tennis season was going. He was shocked when she wrote back:
“I know you’re mr. popular. I hear the girls are all crazy about you. I told you not to contact me in any way until ferther notice. I need time to think.”
Todd didn’t understand. But more than that, his feelings were hurt. He was sad and confused at first. But soon, he just felt angry. He didn’t want to beg her to talk to him. He was also surprised that Melanie couldn’t spell “further,” because she was an A student. Was that some sort of joke? Was she making a joke about putting him down?
No, Todd didn’t understand it at all. When it came to Melanie, the only person he could ask was Betsy. She was still close with Amanda. So, if anybody knew what was going on, it would be Betsy.
Todd took the opportunity to talk to her when he and Betsy were planting seeds at the greenhouse. It was about sixty yards long, with raised beds of black soil filling the place. Half a dozen workers were leaning over to plant hundreds of seeds in neat rows. It was a slow task, but it gave Todd and Betsy time to talk. She seemed careful when Todd first asked about Melanie.
“I don’t want to gossip.” She rolled her eyes.
“Oh, of course not. But what’s going on? Is Gates there all the time?” Todd asked, trying not to sound too interested.
“Sort of. You know he and Rudy like to watch sports on Melanie’s laptop on the front porch all the time.”
“And she’s always there?”
“Oh, no. They watch auto racing and extreme sports, but she mostly likes tennis, which they don’t. …”
“So,” he began, “she’s not Gates’s …”
“Girlfriend? Amanda wishes Mel was his girlfriend. Amanda thinks Gates is awesome.”
Todd didn’t want to hear anything else.
More brief, unfriendly e-mails and instant messages came in from Melanie—always warning Todd not to reply. It made him miserable.
His parents suggested he make new friends, including meeting other girls. He knew they were right, but he cared about Melanie. He didn’t understand why she was so set against him. It looked like their budding friendship was over.
Todd told Will about the e-mails. Will often drove down on weekends to visit him at the greenhouse. Behind the greenhouse, an old bridge crossed over a stream. Todd and Will sat on a bench overlooking the stream. There, they talked about soccer and Melanie.
“Mel seems as miserable as you, dude,” Will said. “She’s not out partying. Just the opposite.”
“What, studying? She should work on her spelling, then.”
Todd didn’t feel much sympathy for her by now. He huffed the word “ferther.”
When Will asked what that was all about, Todd explained how Melanie had said not to contact her “until ferther notice.” Will thought it was strange that Melanie would misspell anything.
“Mel spells better than I do,” he said. Then, almost to himself, he said, “Forsooth, this warrants looking into, I’ll wager.”
Chapter Nine
A Best Friend in Goal
Although the trouble with Melanie stayed in Todd’s mind, he had important soccer games to get ready for. The first of the two Highfield–Ross Corners games came with both teams 8–0. The game was home for Ross Corners, but the visiting Highfield crowd was almost twice as large as the home crowd.
Jerry’s father made up for the shortage of home fans, though. He was an older English fellow, and he cheered louder than anybody, even before the game began.
“Up with Ross Corners! This is your game, lads! Come on, Ross Corners!”
Mr. Spane’s red hair seemed to stand on end when he got excited. And at a soccer game, he was always excited.
While stretching at midfield, Todd saw Melanie standing at the side of the bleachers. His heart jumped, and he wanted to go over to her. But she looked away. Now Todd did feel like Highfield’s worst enemy.
It was the same on the field. From the start, it was a fierce battle, end to end. Gates and Rudy fouled he and Giorgio a lot. Todd knew his team was a match for the Highfield players. But could they beat Will?
It was hard even to get a shot off against him. If an attacker was anywhere near the goal, Will charged out and broke up the play. He was quicker than ever. Every ball in the penalty area was his. He was like a whirlwind in goal.
Todd didn’t get many shots off, but he set up Giorgio twice with low passes inside the box. The Brazilian ripped two blistering shots, but both times Will made diving saves. Todd tried high passes that got over the defenders, but Will pulled them down every time.
Todd tried not to admire Will too much. That was distracting. But Will had become an even better goalie. He would get that scholarship. But Todd knew he had to score no matter who was in goal. But the harder he tried, the more anxious he became. He’d shoot too soon or too late. Nothing but a perfect shot had a chance against Will.
Late in the game, as a substitute was coming in, Giorgio came up to Todd. They were both sweaty, dirty, and worn out.
“Hey, man, that’s your best friend in their goal, right?” When Todd answered, Giorgio said, “Yeah, I can see you don’t really want to score on him, right?”
Giorgio grinned in that warm way he had, but his words were sharp. Todd didn’t answer, but he wanted to say that he’d been trying hard to score. Even against Will.
Giorgio said, “A real scorer doesn’t even see the goalie—just the spot on the goal where he’s going to shoot it.”
Todd knew he was right.
The whistle blew, and the last ten minutes began.
Next thing Todd knew, a perfect pas
s from Giorgio sent him on a breakaway. He only had Will to beat. Rudy was thundering behind. Will had the goal covered, except for that far-left corner. This was it. Rudy’s hand pushed down on Todd’s shoulder. Todd had to score right now! He was going down, but he got the shot off. It was a beautiful floater.
The ball was going in!
Will backpedaled, backpedaled and jumped—somehow getting his fingertips to the ball. It whacked against the post and down. Rudy booted it clear. So close. Gates and Rudy were yelling at each other for letting Todd get through. Coach Jaynes was yelling, too.
Todd yanked Will to his feet, saying, “Not next time, Lucky.”
Will tugged at his goalie gloves and laughed.
“Dream on, Pelé.”
There wouldn’t be another chance for a goal, however. In the closing minutes, Gates tripped himself inside the penalty box. Jerry made a clean tackle, but the referee didn’t see it that way. Rudy calmly scored the penalty for a 1–0 Highfield win. Gates had a very big smile on his face.
Afterward, a furious Mr. Spane complained that the referees were fooled by a fake foul. Mr. Benson interrupted and walked him away to calm him down. Will came over to shake Todd’s hand. Neither one spoke about Gates’s flop. Todd was too blue even to joke about “lucky” and “next time.”
Then Todd saw Melanie walking past. She seemed sad and angry at the same time. He felt the same way—about her and about losing the game.
“Odds bodkins, you guys!” Will exclaimed. “Don’t you even say hello to each other?”
Todd thought Melanie threw out a comment about “rude e-mails and texts.” He started to say her e-mails were the rude ones. Before he could, a beaming Gates stepped in and held out a hand to Melanie.
“Hey, Mel, come ride home with me and my folks. There’s a pizza party to celebrate tonight, and—”
To Todd’s surprise, Melanie ignored Gates’s hand. She said something about not liking “cheaters” and hurried off.
Gates turned red, kicked the ground, and stamped away.
Will said, almost to himself, “Good one, cousin Melanie.”
Todd Goes for the Goal Page 4