Goalkeeper in Charge

by Matt Christopher

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2002 by Matt Christopher Royalties, Inc.

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Little, Brown and Company

  Hachette Book Group

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  New York, NY 10017

  Visit our website at www.HachetteBookGroup.com

  www.twitter.com/littlebrown

  First eBook Edition: December 2009

  Matt Christopher® is a registered trademark of Matt Christopher Royalties, Inc.

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  ISBN: 978-0-316-09385-9

  Contents

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Matt Christopher®

  The #1 Sports Series for Kids: MATT CHRISTOPHER®

  1

  You’re such a DOPE! I can’t believe how lame you are! I’m ashamed to know you!

  Tina Esparza kicked a pebble off the sidewalk, as if the pebble had said those hurtful things to her. Of course, it hadn’t said a thing.

  A nasty little voice in Tina’s own head had said them. And she knew she deserved every word.

  She was walking home from school with her best friend, Meg Janis. Tina, slender and dark-haired, was a few inches shorter than Meg, whose hair was light brown and curly. The girls were twelve years old and this had been their second day of seventh grade. For Tina, it hadn’t been a good day at all. In fact, it had been terrible.

  What’s the matter with you, anyway? the nasty little voice whined. Don’t you have any sense at all?

  “Tina?” asked Meg, looking at her friend with a puzzled expression. “Did you say something?” When Tina didn’t reply, she spoke again, a little louder. “Hello? Anybody home? HEY!”

  Startled, Tina blinked and looked at Meg. “Huh? Why are you yelling at me?”

  Meg rolled her eyes. “I was yelling because you didn’t seem to hear me when I talked in a regular voice. You were mumbling to yourself, and you looked like you’d swallowed a rotten egg. What’s going on?”

  Tina said, “Nothing’s going on.”

  “Hey, Teen, this is Meg, remember? Your friend Meg? Don’t say nothing’s going on, because I know that there has to be something.

  “It isn’t just now, either. Today, when Ms. Gould asked you about the poem we read in class, about what it meant, remember? You just sat there like she was speaking some weird language you didn’t understand. I know you’re smart. I know you could’ve come up with an answer, but you just sat there. How come?”

  Tina was tempted to say she didn’t know what Meg was talking about, but Meg was her closest friend, and Tina knew that she had to talk to somebody. She sighed.

  “Sure, I knew the answer,” she admitted. “It’s just that when she asked the question and the other kids turned to look at me and … I just felt all these eyes staring at me … and I… couldn’t… talk My brain wouldn’t work, my mouth wouldn’t work, and I, well, you know. It’s not like it’s the first time.”

  Meg nodded. “No, it’s happened before. But I think it’s getting worse lately. Am I right?”

  “I don’t know, I guess,” answered Tina. “Ms. Gould must think I’m totally dumb. And when it happens in other classes, those teachers will think so too. I do the same thing when I’m with a bunch of other kids. It’s like, sometimes I turn into a statue for a while. The worst part is, I don’t have a clue what to do about it.”

  Meg thought it over. “I wouldn’t worry about teachers. You do well on tests and homework, and they’ll know you’re smart. But the other kids … it won’t make you Miss Popularity with other girls if you go around imitating a clam with it’s shell shut tight. And as for boys— well, forget it.”

  “I don’t care about boys,” Tina said.

  “No?” Meg sounded doubtful. “Okay, if you say so. But you may change your mind someday.”

  The girls had reached Tina’s house. “Want to kick a ball around for a while?” Tina asked. “We could use some practice.” Both girls loved soccer and would start playing with a team called the Wildcats in a few days. The Wildcats were part of a league for players from twelve to fourteen. Now that they were twelve, their games would be on a full-sized field, with eleven players on each team.

  “Sure,” Meg agreed. “There isn’t much homework yet, so I have time.”

  “Wait a second,” Tina called, running to the garage to get a ball. She came out dribbling the ball, passing it from foot to foot. The girls went into Tina’s backyard and began kicking the ball around the lawn.

  “What’s your favorite part of soccer?” Meg asked as she received Tina’s pass with her knee and let the ball drop to the grass. “Shooting? Passing? Tough defense?”

  Tina stopped Meg’s kick by trapping the ball under her shoe. “My favorite?” She expertly flipped the ball up, juggled it from one knee to the other, and kicked it back to Meg. “I guess my favorite part is that it’s a team sport.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean,” Meg said, trying unsuccessfully to flip the ball up as Tina had done. Meg wasn’t as good as Tina. She knew it and had no problem with it. “Teamwork, playing as a team, it’s pretty cool.”

  “Actually,” Tina said, “what I mean is, when there are a lot of players out there, nobody’s watching you, especially. You know? You just sort of fit in with the group. That’s what I really like. Now we’ll have eleven on the same side, and it’ll be even easier to just blend in.”

  Meg laughed. “You’re strange sometimes. You’re the only player I know who doesn’t want to be a star. In fact, you’d hate it, because people look at stars. Am I right?”

  Tina trapped the ball under her foot. “You’re right,” she agreed, and laughed. “I’d probably like it even better if there were twenty players on a team. Anyway, I hope I’ll be able to keep doing the same things with the Wildcats that I’m used to doing.”

  Meg shook her head. “Weird,” she said. “How did I ever get to be friends with such a weird person? Oh, by the way, I heard some stuff about the Wildcats’ coach. My cousin played for her last year.”

  “What did you hear?” asked Tina.

  Meg said, “Well, her name is Danielle Barron. My cousin says she was fun to work with, that she never screamed at anyone, and that all she wants is for everyone to do her best. She isn’t one of those ’We have to win, and nothing else matters’ coaches.”

  “Sounds good,” Tina said, getting her foot under the ball and chipping it high so that Meg could “head” it — hit the ball with her forehead. In soccer, you can touch the ball with any part of your body except your hands and arms, unless you’re a goalkeeper. Goalkeepers, or keepers, can use their hands to catch and throw the ball.

  Meg lunged at the ball, which bounced off the top of her head at a crazy angle and went into the bushes. As she turned to get it, a voice called out from nearby: “When you head the ball, try to hit it with the middle of your forehead, right below your hairline.”

  Tina and Meg turned and saw a boy of about their age standing at the back door of the neighboring house. He had straw-blond hair and blue eyes, and had just moved into the neighb
orhood. Tina knew that Meg’s big smile was a sign that Meg thought he was cute.

  “Hi,” Tina said. “You’re Dave, right?”

  The boy nodded. “Dave Knowles. You’re Tina?”

  “Yeah. Tina Esparza.”

  Meg cleared her throat noisily.

  “And, uh, this is my friend Meg Janis.”

  Dave grinned. “Hi, Meg.”

  “Nice to meet you, Dave,” Meg said, smiling even more. “And thanks for the tips on heading the ball. I can never do that right. Maybe you can help me sometime.”

  Oh, good grief! Tina thought. When it came to boys, Meg was unbelievable.

  “I play soccer too,” said Dave. “I’m looking for a team to play with. Is it okay if I kick the ball around a little with you?”

  Meg spoke first, while Tina was getting the ball out of the bushes. “Sure!” she said. “It’s always better with three people than with two. There are lots of teams around. You won’t have any trouble getting on one of them. Do you play any position in particular?”

  Tina chipped the ball to Dave, who headed it perfectly to Meg. He said, “I was a defenseman last year, but I could be a wing too. I’m pretty fast. I’ll play any position, just so I can be on a team.”

  Staring at Dave, Meg let the ball go past her. Tina giggled, and Meg glared at her.

  As they played, Tina decided that Dave was a pretty good player and that Meg didn’t care how good he was, as long as he had those blue eyes and that blond hair.

  “Uh-oh,” Dave said, looking at his watch. “This is fun, but I’d better go home. I have stuff to do before dinner. Nice meeting you, Meg. I guess I’ll see you both at school.”

  “See you,” replied Tina.

  “We’ll definitely see you!” Meg said, with another of her big, dumb smiles.

  After Dave had gone inside, Tina snickered. “We’ll definitely see you!” she mimicked, putting a sappy grin on her face.

  “What’s wrong with what I said?” Meg demanded. “Is he or is he not a nice boy?”

  Tina shrugged. “I guess, yeah.”

  “Is it a crime to be nice to a nice boy?”

  Tina kicked the ball into the open garage door. “No, it’s not,” she admitted.

  Meg sat on the grass. “Well, okay. You might think about being nice to him, too.”

  Tina sat down facing her friend. “Me? I was nice! I didn’t say anything mean, did I?”

  “No, you didn’t say anything mean. You hardly said anything at all!” Meg said. “Why?”

  “I don’t know,” Tina said. “I didn’t have anything to say. I didn’t know what to say.”

  Meg waved her hands in frustration. “You could have talked about soccer or if he likes his teachers. You could’ve talked about his favorite music or your favorite music or if pizza is better with mushrooms or sausages. You could’ve talked about anything!”

  Tina stared at the grass. “When you say it, it sounds so easy. When you talk to people, you act like you’re enjoying it.”

  “I am enjoying it! And it is easy!”

  “For you!” Tina snapped. “Not me! I open my mouth and try to think of what to say and nothing comes out. So I feel stupid, which means that more nothing comes out! And don’t ask why, because I don’t know!”

  There was a silence, which Meg broke. “I’m sorry. I know it’s hard for you. And I wish I had some ideas to help, but I don’t.

  “Except, now you have this cute next-door neighbor. Can you talk to him a little? It’d be good practice. And he’s going to make new friends, who could become your friends, and you could talk to them too. It would be a start.”

  Tina stood up. “You’re right. I’ll try. I know I should do it, so I’ll talk to him. It’s just… it’s not going to be easy, that’s all.”

  Meg stood up too. “Maybe it won’t be as hard as you think.” She laughed. “I can tell you one thing — if Dave was my neighbor, I sure wouldn’t have any trouble at all!”

  In spite of herself, Tina couldn’t help laughing too. Meg was just Meg, especially when it came to boys.

  2

  Are you coming straight home from school today?” Mrs. Esparza asked Tina.

  “No, Mom,” Tina said. “I have soccer practice, remember?”

  The Esparza family was having breakfast. Next to Tina, her eight-year-old brother, Sammy, made a face as he played with his cereal. “Soccer is lame. Baseball rules!”

  “Hey!” said Mr. Esparza. “Don’t knock soccer. It’s the world’s most popular sport. And it’s the most popular sport in this house, two to one. Right, sweetie?”

  “Right, Dad,” Tina replied.

  “Mom loves baseball,” Sammy said. “So it’s a tie for most popular sport in the house.”

  Mrs. Esparza smiled. “Sammy, you know I’ll cheer for you in baseball games, and I’ll cheer for Tina in soccer games. But I don’t have a favorite sport. To me, they’re both the same — impossible to understand.”

  Mr. Esparza sighed. “Now that, I don’t understand. Baseball, sure, that’s hard to follow. But soccer is as natural as breathing. Is breathing hard to understand?”

  Mr. Esparza had grown up in Argentina and played soccer — or futbol, as he sometimes called it — throughout his early years. He’d injured his knee as a young man and had to stop playing. But he followed the sport, rooting for Argentina in big international events such as the World Cup. When his old “home team,” the Boca Juniors, was on cable TV, he watched.

  Mr. Esparza loved to talk about the great Argentine soccer stars he had seen, such as Maradona and DiStefano. Finally, even Tina, who loved soccer, would roll her eyes.

  “Daddy,” she’d say. “I’ve heard this all before. Like, maybe a hundred times.”

  “I’m never tired of talking about those great athletes,” her father would reply. “But, okay. I’ll stop for now.”

  Today, however, Tina was lucky. He didn’t start off on the old-timers. He only said, “How do you feel about this new team?”

  Tina took a last swallow of milk. “Okay, I guess. Well, a little nervous.”

  “Nervous?” he repeated. “Why? You’ll do fine! You’re very good! I ought to know, I’ve seen some of the greatest —”

  “Yes, Daddy,” she interrupted. “Maradona, and all those guys. But this team is better than the ones I’ve played with. Maybe I’m not good enough yet. Some of these girls will be two years older than me, and more experienced.”

  Mr. Esparza waved these worries off. “You’ll be fine. You’re very good for your age. Plus, soccer is in your blood. You wait and see, you’ll be a star.”

  That wasn’t what Tina wanted to hear, though her father had no way of knowing it. Mrs. Esparza must have seen something in her daughter’s face, though, because she said, “Even if you’re not a star, honey, you’ll have fun. And I’m sure you’ll be good enough for the team.”

  “Sure you will!” Sammy said. “I’ll go to your games and hold up signs and everything.”

  Tina joined the laughter at Sammy’s enthusiasm, but she was definitely nervous; she was trembling inside. It was partly because she was worried about whether she would be good enough, but it was also because she knew that a new team meant a new coach and teammates. Strangers. She couldn’t bring herself to talk about these fears. Her family wouldn’t get it.

  Tina lived a few blocks from school, and on nice days, she liked to walk. As she headed down the front path, shrugging into her backpack, Dave came out of his yard and smiled at her.

  “Hi! Mind if I walk with you?”

  Tina couldn’t see any nice way of turning him down, and Meg’s advice about being nice was in her mind, so she smiled and said, “I don’t mind. Let’s go.”

  Before she could work herself into a panic about what to say, Dave solved the problem by speaking first.

  “I hate starting in a new school. Being the new kid. You don’t know anyone, you don’t know where people hang out. It’s the worst.”

  Tina nodded. “
It must be pretty bad. I don’t know what I’d do if it were me. I’m not good with people I don’t know.”

  “Me neither,” Dave said. “I always feel like I’m taking some kind of test that I’ll probably fail. They’ll think, ‘What a wuss. ’”

  Tina was surprised to hear somebody else say things that she might say. She always figured that her problems were special and that few others shared them. But here was this boy, a boy that Meg thought was cute, who said that he had trouble dealing with new faces. Amazing! She found herself in the unusual position of wanting to make him feel better.

  “Well, I don’t think you’re a wuss,” she said. “Neither does my friend Meg. And I bet no one else will, either.”

  Dave smiled gratefully. “Thanks. It’s good to hear you say that. Because, sometimes, you know, I’m not too sure what… well, what other people think about me. Especially girls.”

  Tina smiled. “I have the same problem. I mean, I’m not really great with other people, either. Especially a big group of them together.”

  Dave turned and stared at her. “Really? Huh.” He thought for a moment, then said, “It’s funny. I just figure it’s a problem I have that most people don’t.”

  Tina adjusted her backpack. “I always think it’s just me. I mean, I have my first soccer practice this afternoon, and I’m really nervous. Not just because I may not be good enough, but because there’ll be a coach and players I don’t know. That’s even worse.”

  Tina was finding it easier to talk to Dave than she had expected, even about subjects she usually kept to herself. They were at school before she knew it.

  “Good luck at soccer today,” said Dave as they went inside. “I bet you’ll do great.”

  “Thanks,” Tina answered. “And I bet you’ll make lots of new friends really soon.”

  Dave grinned. “I’ve made one or two already.”

  The school day passed without a problem. After school, Tina walked home, then she biked to Meg’s house. The girls rode to the field where the Wildcats were to meet for practice. They brought their soccer shoes — with aluminum studs on the bottoms so that they wouldn’t slip on wet grass or mud — and shin guards. Tina mentioned walking to school with Dave.