by C. J. Lau
Chapter 21
Goulburn, September 2002. Six weeks later.
The warm, spring sun does nothing for my nerves. Able to see and hear everything from here on the sideline. Trying to focus on game day, when all else threatens to tear me away from getting this final win before the finals.
The sight of Cat and Carol, laughing on the field in front of me, doesn’t help. Cat’s operation a success, as far as I can see. Big scar gone, lots of little scars healing with each passing day.
“This wouldn’t be a problem,” the girls’ chatter wafts in, makes my ears prick up, “if Kim could pass better. Or if you knew which was left and right.” Christina, putting on her padding, sounds unhappy. Reminds me of three frustrating training sessions. Five pages ripped from my notebook and into the bin.
“That’s not fair!” Kimberley’s protests make me turn to them. Knowing I need to jump on this quick.
“Enough!” I shout, the pair copping the fury of six frustrating, lonely weeks. “Christina, shut it, or join Brooke on the sideline.” Blow the cover on my great hearing and why I’m not out in the middle with my friends. Not about to let this bickering derail us. “Kim, you starting or not?”
Two nods. “Yes, Miss.”
I point everyone in the direction of the field. “Then get out there. You’ve all had your say.”
And all the girls stand.
“Thank you,” I force a smile. “I know it didn’t work in training. But this is how we’re going to play without Brooke.” I pick up my new stick, remember, and then try to forget the fate of my last one. “Let’s go.”
“Finally!” Cat greets my girls, ready for action with knee guard on. “Spread out and start moving.”
I’m a passenger during warm up, flicking stray balls back at girls when needed. Not able to take my eyes off Cat. My newly appointed assistant’s actions far from perfect, but with enough glimpses of the Olympian I know still lives inside her.
“It’s rude to stare, Maggie,” Carol, umpire for today after Francis reneged on his end of the deal, falls in beside me. And I avert my eyes, turn to Kim and Jennifer. Practicing their positioning; looking anything but comfortable in their roles today. “One final hurdle before the finals. You ready for this?”
I nod, try not to let the nerves show, “I need to be.” Know I’ve thrown myself into my work, tossed away friendships and put others on hold for this day. “How’s Cat?” I ask, watch her show Sarah a pivot to shake off defenders, big smiles all round. “I haven’t been in hiding, promise.”
I’ve no reason to hide. No new notes, the break in meaning everyone’s watching my back. Driving me insane with their attention.
“Yeah, we all got crazy busy all of a sudden,” Carol offers this excuse, making me feel worse. “She’s been okay.” Voice switching serious in an instant. “Ten minutes to game time, Coach.”
I nod, can tell she’s lying about Cat. “Thanks. We’ll be friends again in a couple hours.”
Carol reverses and begins trotting backwards to join her umpiring partner. I turn to the battle ahead. Risk a look across to spot our opponent’s one star player, number nine. Cherie, blasting her team to victory last month, with me in the stands keeping a low profile.
Anna’s looking too, sizing her up. I’ve told her what to expect.
My defender on their best attacker. Sam with license to attack at the other end, I remind myself of the plan. Kim and Jennifer generating turnovers and counter attacking.
Brooke’s brave smile on the sideline reminds me what I’m fighting for. Why I’m forced to turn to two less accurate girls to fill the hole she’s left. A serious grade 2 medial ligament tear, and another operation in the summer if her knee fails to fully repair.
Cat’s talking to Sam as they walk off. “You played the best I’ve ever seen that first half against Bathurst. Bring the same for both halves today.”
I wave Brooke in, give her time to hobble over before the rest of the huddle forms. She’ll be back for the Finals if we win.
“No excuses today,” Nancy jumps in first, lifting my confidence with her challenge. “This formation’s new, but we trained with it. Heads on and keep talking.” Now her eyes find Kim and Jennifer. “If you can’t find us down the sidelines, or Sam in the middle, then just clear long and we’ll pin them down.” Waiting for two nods before continuing. “We all know what it means if we win. Miss Conrad?”
Everyone looks at me for the final word. I was petrified the last time they did that on this field. This time I know exactly what I want to say.
“This win puts us into the State Finals. It is going to be a tight match. They’re a good team, but we are better!” My encouragement brings a roar, but I’m not done. “I expect you all to put your bodies on the line for this one. Whatever it takes! Go out there and play your best.”
The teams make their way out onto the field, Christina taking her place as keeper. We exchange nods, neither of us saying anything.
Cat bounces up beside me, settling into her seat. “How goes the healing?” I ask.
“Alright, Maggie,” she replies, slides her stick into her bag. “Hey, I have tomorrow off. Let’s catch up.”
Cat hasn’t been around since Solo’s assault all those weeks ago. “Come over whenever.” I try to hide the desperation in my invite.
Our eyes turn to the field, both teams in position. “Sure, Maggie.” Cat gives a little nod. “Now let’s win this and get back to the State 8’s.”
Round 8: East Hills.
Our opponents launch at an incredible pace. Showing me they aren’t going to make the mistakes of our earlier opponents. They attack with skill and enthusiasm, quick to track back and defend if things break down. A counter attacking style isn’t going to work as well today.
Is it too early to change things? Doubts creep back. My five effective defenders swamped by relentless attack. Building zero attacking pressure, and even less rebound.
It takes ten breathless minutes for something to snap. Kim losing possession trying to clear, the ball threaded neatly past her. Two passes later their number nine aims through a narrow opening, and she doesn’t miss.
“Good shot, Cherie!” someone shouts.
“Heads up, girls!” I shout back before the restart. “Sam, get into the game!”
Sam starts tracking back further to find possession, but also finds a defensive wall in front. Kim and Jennifer struggling to hold back the tide, Anna losing touch with Cherie at the back. Only Christina keeps us in the match with four great saves.
“This formation isn’t working.” Cat’s in my ear, our eyes tracking Cherie, running into the shooting circle. “Change it before the game slips away.”
Cherie’s pass successful despite the close marking of Anna and Felicity; the other striker with an easy shot for a goal.
“Dammit!” Cat yells.
Now we’re chasing the game. Shrieks of excitement from their side of the field.
Cat’s right to say the match is slipping away. Ten minutes before half time, but I can’t let myself give in to panic, or nerves building. I’ve come too far for this.
I stand, calling for Janet and Vivienne. “Okay, experiment over. Go on for Kim and Jennifer and let’s get back to the Bathurst formation.”
I call Celia over, talking before she even makes it to my side, “Anna needs a rest. Go on for her until half-time.”
I hope the three changes are enough. The home crowd now silent. Eyes on me; pressure closing around my shoulders and neck.
“Nancy, shape change!” Cat calls out to the field, clapping rapidly to get her attention. “Right now!”
Nancy points Janet to her right wing position and waves at Sam to fall back beside her in the centre. A chasing formation.
“Oh boy, we’re in trouble,” I hear Kim say on her way to the bench.
I answer loudly, making sure all the girls hear me. “Plenty of time to go, Kim.”
With Celia and Vivienne covering Cherie, Sam and Nan
cy finally generate attacking pressure. The momentum shifting towards us. But no goal coming.
“Come on, girls, just hold the ball in the circle and see if they want to give away a corner!” Cat’s practically pulling her hair out, pacing down the sideline.
“We’re trying!” Sam’s frustration leaks through, shouting at Cat.
Sam finally shakes her double team with a few minutes left in the half. I nearly feel her grit her teeth. Firing her shot in hard, with all that pent up frustration. It’s on target but in a second their keeper’s pad deflects it back into play. Sarah pouncing on the rebound to force a second save. The second deflection to Andrea, who sneaks the ball home through the flurry of sticks.
Goal!
This time the cheer comes for our goal awarded, bringing the crowd back to life.
“Keep it down there!” I yell onto the field. Scrappy, but we’ll take it.
My girls push forward, confident after the restart. Sam shaking off her markers to receive a clever pass from Nancy. Her shot just wide.
My turn to curse as the half-time whistle sounds. Trailing for the first time this season. Panic threatening to set in.
I barely wait for them to return to the sideline before getting in their ears. “We’re being played out of this one! Let’s lift the energy out there!” I gesture them in closer. “The starting formation wasn’t working. But Nancy and Sarah, that’s no excuse for going missing!” My eyes find my Captains, both looking disappointed. “This is a different opponent, not so disorganised that one right pass can cut ‘em open.” I try to keep a lid on the frustration hammering in my head. “Run for everything. Take the game to them.”
Nancy speaks up, grimacing at my shouts. “It’s only half-time, this isn’t lost yet. So let’s put it behind us and play like we know we can.”
I can’t nod my agreement faster. “Yes. Anna, you’re back on for Felicity. Everyone rest up and get ready. I don’t want our tournament to end here!”
Cat calls from just outside the huddle. “Attackers and midfield, come with me, please.” Cat points to a vacant corner. Walking there without waiting for a response.
I find Christina, know Cat’s about to deliver the half-time lecture prepared in Bathurst. “You’re doing really well out there, Christina,” I say, sitting next to her with one ear on Cat. Wondering whether she’ll find the right balance of encouragement and criticism.
“Thanks, Coach. Sorry I snapped earlier.”
“What’s up? You’re normally the calmest person in the group?” I ask.
She doesn’t answer straight away. “Lauren’s meant to be here. But her phone rang out when we called.”
Lauren Hargreaves, Christina’s sister from the next town. “Could she have just forgotten?”
Christina shakes her head, worry crossing her face. “She said she’d be here. Mum called the police, but said we need to wait 24 hours before they can investigate.” Now her worry sweeps over me.
I nod, know Christina to never cry wolf without justification. “You’ve done well with that on your mind,” I pat her padding. “Four amazing saves or else we’d be gone. I just need one good half out of you. Then I’ll call a detective who’s been working with me. I’ll make sure he takes it seriously.”
Christina nods at my promise. “The one looking after the break-ins?”
I wince at break-ins. “Yep.”
“Thanks, Coach. Can you call after the match?”
“Sure,” I promise, see the attack group break from their huddle.
“Let’s go girls!” Nancy shouts with new enthusiasm. The group making its way to the field.
Cat sits beside me. A crazed look about her, a determination making the veins on her forehead pop.
Play restarts. “Good talk?”
“Ask me in 35 minutes,” she responds, eyes only for the field.
We catch up level within five minutes. Sam runs her double team defenders to the corner of the shooting circle. Allowing Nancy to run into the space created and shoot below the outstretched boot of the goal keeper.
Anna, Celia, and Vivienne take turns marking Cherie, switching in cycles. The strategy working until the first of two disasters strike.
Anna, lunging forward to block a shot before recoiling in pain. The ball crashing into her wrist.
“Felicity, go on for your sister,” I call. Anna limping to us, clutching at her wrist.
Soon an intense stalemate unfolds. Both defences heroic.
“Extra time or Penalties at this level?” Cat’s question turns me grim at the prospect of sudden death.
“Ten minutes extra, then Penalties.”
Danielle takes an intercept, smashes it downfield. Sam finding a burst of speed to get away from her two markers.
“Get in the circle!” Sam shouts, the ball under control, running forward and then firing; a pass in hard.
Martina comes running towards the ball, opponent on her hip. My striker lunging at the pass to deflect it goal ward. A second deflection off the defender’s stick wrong footing the keeper to sneak into the goal.
We look nervously at the umpires. Everyone cheering as the goal is awarded.
“Fall back! Fall back!” I shout, sending Brittany on to bolster the defence.
Four minutes to go.
A brilliant save from Christina and a full length diving block from Vivienne keep us in the lead, both teams going for everything.
The second disaster striking with seconds to go.
Cherie with the ball, beating Danielle, space to sprint towards goal. Felicity the first to react, closing her down, risking everything to throw her stick in front of Cherie’s shot.
An awful crack sends my body cold, the ball hitting Felicity’s head.
The ball rolls out of bounds for full-time. But any desire to cheer is killed by the sight of Felicity, face-down and lifeless on the turf. Cherie over her with a worried look.
“Someone call an ambulance!” Cat shouts, sprinting on field, getting a five-step lead before my shock subsides enough to run after her. We arrive at the same time.
“I’m sorry. The ball bounced up off her stick,” Cherie’s almost in tears, her stick a few metres away. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, it was an accident. Let me take a look at her. Felicity!”
Felicity stirs slightly. I get down beside her, see her eyes open sluggishly. One slow hand to her head.
“Stay with me, Felicity, we’re going to get you to hospital,” I say. “Stay still.”
I help roll Felicity on her side, watch her moan before closing her eyes again. A cut on her forehead starting to bleed. “Oh my God. Sis!” Anna now, kneeling over her sister.
The ambulance arrives. Felicity responding to instructions; the Paramedics loading her into a stretcher as the two teams shake hands. Anna and her mum riding with my fearless defender.
I congratulate the East Hills Coach on a great match and assure them Felicity will be fine. “She’s in good hands now.”
A mixture of relief over the win and nerves for my injured defenders runs through me. Making my way back to the girls. I worry how this will express itself.
Their chatter is benign, hollow to my ears, “So much better second half!” “Thanks Cat for the rocket.” The girls laughing, and why not? They’re Finals bound.
“Great leave, Martina, for the match winner,” Nancy jokes, huddles in tight.
“Hey! I did nick it or else it wouldn’t be a goal. It might be an own-goal, but I’ll take it as my own!”
All eyes on me. Affording me just long enough for a deep breath.
And I burst into tears.
“I think what Maggie is trying to say is, ‘Great game, let’s get changed and go home everyone’,” Cat translates.
“Yes.” I gather myself quickly. “Well played, everyone. So heroic of all of you. Go get changed. I’ll see you all at school Monday.”
Free of the need to be a neutral umpire, Carol strides into the huddle, announcing. “Party
tomorrow to celebrate making State Finals. Come in your party dress, parents and boyfriends optional!”
Boyfriends optional strikes me unexpectedly, overriding Felicity, and the Finals. I am without boyfriend, but it isn’t optional.
I’ve done my bit to pilot Goulburn into the Finals. My reward? Tougher matches against our fiercest rivals; the prospect of the mother of all grudge matches against Wollongong. The team with Zara and Solo. Both hungry for revenge.
Cat moves to my side. “Well done, Maggie,” she whispers in my ear. “Now let the real battles begin.”
I wonder whether Cat’s visited Mark and Emma like she said on the plane. Wollongong a world of heartache for me now. If she did go, I will not be able to help.
Everything happens for a reason, I force myself to believe. Each battle makes you stronger.
Brooke limps up to me as the girls pack their gear.
We exchange a hug. “Thank you, Coach. You gave me hope of playing again this year.”
“I could have done with you out there.” I ask, “How’s the recovery going?”
“Slowly.” She taps the injured limb. “The bruising’s down after the surgery. I’m exercising every day now.” Brooke’s minor operation done by a specialist in Sydney. Maximising her chances of return. “They keep telling me I shouldn’t play unless I’m 100%.”
I nod. “Agreed. As much as I need everyone on the team for the Finals, I couldn’t live with myself if you came back early and did long-term damage.”
“I know, when I do say I’m right to go, will you trust me on it?”
I ponder for a minute. Groups of girls waving goodbye until the two of us are left to talk more freely. Six months ago I stood in charge on the same hockey field for my first match. Now the team follows my calls, even my incorrect ones. I asked them for trust, and now Brooke is asking me to trust her. How the world has changed.
“Sure, Champ. But I will want more than saying it. Train like you did before your injury. Move and pass like you did. Don’t just tell me you’re good to go.” I point to the vacant field. “Show me.”
“Okay,” Brooke nods. “I hope Anna and Felicity are okay. That last collision looked bad.”
“Me too. Hopefully we’ll see them tomorrow at the party.”
“Are you getting dressed up for it, Miss?” Brooke asks, innocent voice not enough to fool me.
“Why?” I ask, my tone reserved for the guilty.
Brooke recognises it, goes red with embarrassment.
I look down at my loose fitting jeans and well-worn boots. Figure out why Brooke’s gone red. They’ve never seen me in much else, and I can do so much better. “So, you’re asking if I’m getting dressed up tomorrow. Maybe take a photo or two?”
“I was going to ask first,” Brooke admits, her face still red, and now a little scared.
I smile. “Don’t worry, Brooke, you’re not in trouble.” She begins to breathe again and I think of something else.
“I’m sorry, Miss.”
“I’ll make a deal with you Brooke. If we win the State Championship—” I start.
My words bring Brooke back, looking at me with curiosity.
“—If we win, then we can get ready for the Year 10 formal together at my place. I’ll let you pick my outfit and shoes from my wardrobe, and you can get all the photos you want.”
Brooke smiles, nodding. We have a deal.
“If we win the Championship I’ll make sure that Celia and I carry you into the formal on our shoulders,” Brooke says in excitement. “Short skirt and all!”
I laugh and waved goodbye, make my way to where Cat, Carol, and Sam wait. Accept all their congratulations, mind turning forward to the battles that now await me, and my girls.