Benched

by Rich Wallace

“What’s the problem, Ben?” Coach said sharply.

  “He won’t stop saying ‘red card.’ ”

  Coach turned to Mark. “That’s very poor sportsmanship,” she said. “Ben is your teammate.”

  But then she turned to Ben. “If you threw a punch like that in a game, it would cost you more than a red card,” she said. “You’d be out of the league for good.”

  Ben let out his breath. He shook his shoulders free from Jordan and Omar and put his hands on his hips. “He wouldn’t shut up.”

  “Athletes have to stay focused,” Coach said. “They can’t let words throw them off their game. Did Mark trip you?”

  Ben looked at the ground. “No.”

  “Did he elbow you?”

  Ben shook his head.

  “I didn’t think so. All he did was talk, right?”

  Ben bit down on his lip and nodded. “Yeah. He’s a big talker. And a big jerk.”

  Coach looked around at the team. “You have to block that stuff out and just play soccer,” she said. “The other team, the spectators, sometimes even the other coach, might say something to try to upset you. Don’t let it get to you. Stay focused on the game.”

  Ben looked at Mark, who had a mean smile. He did get to Ben, and he knew it.

  “Mark, take a seat on the bench,” Coach said. “You need to think about being a better teammate. Ben, you should go home. You need to cool off. A lot.”

  So now he’d been kicked out of practice, too. Ben walked to the sideline and stared at the field as the players began scrimmaging again. It was just three against three. Mark was on the bench with his feet stretched out.

  Ben’s sweatshirt was on the ground by the bench. Right near Mark.

  Ben waited for a minute, then walked over to get it. This time, fighting hadn’t made him feel better at all. He felt miserable.

  Mark kept looking at the field, but he spoke to Ben. “I was just joking around,” he said.

  “No, you weren’t,” Ben replied. “You were trying to get me mad.”

  Mark shrugged. “Yeah. I guess that’s fun.”

  Ben shook his head. “Grow up.”

  “Look who’s talking. I’m not the one who keeps getting kicked out.”

  Ben laughed slightly. “No? Then why are you sitting on the bench?”

  “This is temporary,” Mark said. “I’ll be back on the field in two minutes. But we’ll be in trouble on Saturday because of you.”

  “Because I won’t be playing?”

  Mark nodded. “Just when we’re getting good enough to beat the Rabbits, we have to play without … you.”

  Ben let out his breath and pulled his sweatshirt on. Out on the field, Jordan was making a breakaway toward the goal. He shifted right, then left, and skillfully shot the ball into the net.

  Mark clapped and called, “Nice move!”

  With the break in the action, Coach looked over toward the bench. Ben started to walk away. She’d told him to leave, and he didn’t want to get in deeper trouble.

  “See you at recess,” Mark said.

  “Yeah,” Ben said glumly. “Good luck on Saturday.”

  “We’ll need it.”

  “I’ll be there. On the stupid bench.”

  Ben didn’t turn around until he’d left the park. Mark was back in the scrimmage.

  He could blame Mark for today’s trouble. He could blame Loop for that fight they’d had at recess last week. And he could blame his parents for the way he’d been feeling, since he was upset about the arguments they’d had.

  But he knew who was mostly to blame. He was. And that didn’t make him feel any better.

  CHAPTER SIX

  On the Run

  —————

  “You’re home early,” Mom said as Ben entered the kitchen. “Short practice today?”

  Ben shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.” He opened the refrigerator and looked for something to snack on. He moved a carton of milk and found two leftover chicken legs. “Can I have one of these?”

  “Okay, but take it outside. Then wash your hands so you don’t get grease on anything when you come in.”

  “Who cares about a little grease?”

  “I do,” Mom said. “I’ve been working extra hours at the bank recently, in case you haven’t noticed. So keeping this house clean is a priority for all of us.”

  Ben went outside and sat on the back steps. She sure is grouchy lately, he thought. He bit into the chicken and chewed it slowly, enjoying the salty flavor.

  Larry came into the yard. “Hey, squirt,” he said. “I thought you had practice today?”

  “I did.”

  “Not us. We’ve got a race tomorrow, so Coach said we should just jog a little on our own. You want to come?”

  Ben thought about that for a second. He was keyed up because his practice had been cut short. “Okay,” he said. “How far?”

  “Just a mile or two. Nice and easy.”

  Larry was on the junior high school cross-country team, and he was one of the team’s fastest runners.

  “I’m all set,” Ben said. “I just came from soccer.”

  “How’d it go?”

  Ben grimaced. “Not good.”

  Larry laughed gently. “I’ll be out in five minutes.”

  They ran slowly down the block and headed to the park where Ben’s soccer games were played. There were kids tossing a football around on the field, and other people walking dogs or jogging.

  “Just a few easy laps,” Larry said. It was the first thing either of them had said since leaving the house.

  “So,” Larry asked, “what happened at practice?”

  Ben stared straight ahead. Suddenly he felt like running a lot faster, but he kept pace with Larry. “Another fight.”

  “Wow. We’d better get you some boxing gloves.”

  “This kid just wouldn’t shut up about my red card.”

  “One of your teammates?”

  “Yeah.”

  Larry let out a whistle. “That’s bad. Teammates have to support each other, especially when things aren’t going well.”

  “He doesn’t know that.”

  “Do you?”

  Ben frowned. “Yeah.… But maybe I don’t always do it.”

  They continued on a wide circle around the field, crossing a bike path and avoiding a muddy area. “Who swung first?” Larry asked.

  “I did. But he swung back at me.”

  “Oh. Is that why you were home early?”

  “Yeah. Coach made me leave.”

  “What about the other kid? Was it that guy Mark?”

  “Yeah. She made him sit out for a while, but he didn’t have to leave. We talked on the sideline a little after we calmed down. It was okay.”

  They left the park and ran on the street for a few minutes until they reached the junior high school. The boys’ soccer team was playing, so Ben and Larry stopped by the fence to watch. The team’s mascot was dressed in a bear costume and a large green soccer jersey that said LINCOLN. He was dancing and waving his arms, leading the small crowd in a cheer.

  “That bear is a riot,” Ben said.

  The opposing team scored a goal a few seconds later, and the mascot dropped to the ground with his head in his paws. But then he jumped up and waved to the crowd again, getting them to their feet.

  “He’s got a lot of spirit,” Ben said as they jogged toward home.

  “She,” Larry said. “I know her. She’s on the tennis team, but she helps cheer for the football and soccer teams, too.”

  Ben turned and looked back at the bear. He stumbled as he ran backward, and Larry caught him by the arm.

  “I’ve got a good idea,” Larry said. “Saturday is Halloween, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  Ben could see that Larry was fighting back a smile.

  “Well,” Larry said, “you haven’t been a very good teammate lately, but I know how you can make up for it on Saturday.”

  “You do?”

  “Do you have
a Halloween costume yet?”

  “No,” Ben said. “I hadn’t thought about it.”

  “I’ll help you make one after dinner tonight,” Larry said. “But only if you’ll promise to wear it to your soccer game.”

  Ben thought about it for a moment. He could usually rely on Larry. “Okay,” Ben said. “Sounds like a plan.”

  They reached their house and Larry stopped in the driveway to stretch. Ben sat on the steps and watched him. “How far do you think we ran?” he asked.

  “A good two miles,” Larry said. “You look like you could run all day.”

  “I probably could. There’s nothing worse than being told not to. By a referee or a coach.”

  “You’ll be back in action before you know it.”

  “I suppose. But being on the sideline for a whole game will be terrible.”

  “Don’t worry,” Larry said. “My idea will liven things up.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The Mascot

  —————

  “Hold still,” Mom said as Ben strained his neck to look out the car window. He could see the Rabbits and the Bobcats warming up on the field. The game would be starting in a few minutes, but he was stuck in a parked car while his mother put makeup on his face.

  Ben shut his eyes and Mom drew some lines on his cheeks with her lipstick. His nose was already tinted black.

  “Do I really have to have red whiskers?” Ben asked, squirming to get away. “I already look stupid enough with these fake ears.”

  “Yes,” Mom said. “Three whiskers on each side. Nice and bright.”

  Ben reached up to check his headband. It was one of his mother’s brown ones, and they’d attached two pointy felt ears to the top to look like a bobcat’s. He was also wearing her old leopard-patterned sweatshirt. (The shirt was warm, which helped a lot because the morning was cool.) A short, puffy tail attached to his butt completed the costume.

  “Bobcats eat rabbits for breakfast,” Ben said as he ran out of the car.

  “Don’t forget these!” Mom called. She held up a plastic bag filled with slices of orange. Ben had cut them up that morning for his teammates.

  “Thanks!” he said, grabbing the bag. He sprinted all the way to the bench.

  “What do we have here?” Coach Patty asked. “That’s some costume, Ben.”

  Ben could feel his face get warm from embarrassment. “Just call me Mr. Mascot,” he mumbled.

  The team gathered around the coach. They were very excited, and seeing Ben in his bobcat costume seemed to give them another lift in spirits.

  “This is our most important game yet,” Coach said as the players stood in a circle and placed their hands together in the center. “The Tigers beat the Sharks this morning, so our chances are better than ever.”

  “We’re rolling,” Jordan said. “Three wins in a row.”

  “Just get me the ball,” Mark said. “We’ll show ’em.”

  “Let’s have Ben lead the cheer,” Coach said with a laugh, “since he’s our biggest fan today.”

  Ben shook his head and frowned, but he started counting down. “Three … two … one …”

  “Bobcats!” they all shouted.

  The starters ran onto the field. Erin would be the team’s only substitute. None of the Bobcats would get much rest today. Erin punched Ben on the arm and said, “Nice getup.”

  “This is supposed to get the fans excited,” Ben said softly. He looked around. There were kids from other teams sitting in the small set of bleachers, and a few parents of the Bobcats. Ben’s mom was standing a few feet away, talking to Erin’s parents.

  “There aren’t very many fans,” Erin said. “Don’t worry. I’ll help you cheer.”

  Ben shrugged. He had nothing to lose, so he clapped a few times. “Let’s go, Bobcats!” he yelled.

  “Let’s go, Bobcats!” Erin repeated.

  Ben walked closer to his mom. “Let’s go, Bobcats!” he shouted.

  “Go, Bobcats,” said the three adults. But then they went back to talking.

  Ben turned to the game. The Rabbits had control of the ball and were moving down the field. Their tactic was to bring all of their players forward except the goalie.

  The strategy was working. The Bobcats barely touched the ball in the first few minutes of the game.

  Finally, Kim got the ball in the corner and made a nice pass to Mark. He dribbled up the sideline and worked his way past two of the Rabbits. Then he spotted Jordan in the middle of the field, running at full speed toward the Rabbits’ goal.

  “Here!” Jordan called.

  Mark booted the ball on an angle across the field. By the time Jordan ran it down, he was only about twenty feet from the goal. None of the Rabbits had made it back yet, so it was just Jordan against the goalie.

  “Breakaway!” Ben shouted.

  Jordan made one quick fake and shot the ball toward the goal. The goalie dived, but the shot went cleanly into the net.

  Ben leaped and turned to face the bleachers. “J-O-R-D-A-N!” he yelled. “Go, Bobcats!”

  “We’re looking good,” Erin said as the game began again.

  “Three wins in a row,” Ben said. “Looks like four.”

  But the Rabbits quickly tied the score, and by halftime they’d taken a 2–1 lead. Ben’s throat was getting dry from all that yelling.

  As the team gathered near the bench, Ben opened the bag of orange slices and handed them out. “Trick or treat,” he said. “Come and get it.”

  Jordan bit into one of the slices and peeled the flesh from the skin with his teeth. “Those guys are fast,” he said to Ben. “We could use you out there.”

  “You’re doing great,” Ben said. “Keep the pressure on them.”

  “They’re the best passers we’ve played against,” said Kim. “Even better than the Falcons.”

  Ben looked out at the field, which was scuffed up from all the recent games. The grass had turned brown a few weeks before, and the nearby trees had shed a lot of colorful leaves.

  The game started again, and Ben went back to his yelling-and-jumping routine. But then he settled down and watched. The Rabbits’ best players were patient with the ball, making accurate passes and working together. They never appeared to panic, even if Mark or Kim or Jordan made a run toward the goal with the ball.

  Midway through the second half, the Rabbits’ steady play paid off in another goal. They had a 3–1 lead. Ben could see the disappointment on his teammates’ faces. They started playing with less excitement. The game seemed to be lost.

  Ben clapped loudly. “That’s not the Bobcat spirit!” he shouted. “Mark! Shayna! Omar! Let’s go! There’s plenty of time left in this game.”

  Ben’s enthusiasm seemed to make a difference. He could see a spark as Jordan took control of the ball and raced up the field. He sent a crisp pass across the grass to Kim, who turned and fired it back.

  Jordan was in the clear as he ran past Ben near the sideline.

  “Looking great!” Ben shouted. “Kim and Mark are with you.”

  A Rabbit defender ran up to Jordan, who stopped short and dodged to his left. As the Rabbit went for the fake, Jordan shifted to his right and dribbled toward the goal.

  Mark and Kim moved quickly into the goal area, waiting for a pass or a rebound. Jordan was at a tough angle to make a shot, but he was in perfect position to pass. He kicked the ball to Kim, who had a dead-on shot at the goal.

  The Rabbit goalie crouched low, ready to spring at the ball. Kim planted her left foot and swung back her right. And then she did something really special.

  Instead of shooting, she nudged the ball over to Mark. Mark trapped it and shot it past the goalie.

  “Yes!” Ben cried. “We got it right back! One more and this game is tied.”

  Ben wiped his forehead and let out his breath. He was puffing and sweating as much as if he’d been playing. He slapped hands with Darren, who was waiting to get back into the game.

  “When you get in ther
e, you need to hustle like never before,” Ben said.

  Darren nodded. He was the quietest Bobcat. Coach sent him onto the field and Jordan came out.

  “Just a short breather,” Coach said to Jordan. “Catch your breath and we’ll get you right back in there.”

  Jordan walked over to Ben and held up his hand for a high five. “It’s intense out there,” he said.

  “Way to get that goal right back,” Ben said. “For a second, I thought we were hanging it up.”

  “I heard you yelling,” Jordan said. “Thanks. That gave us a lift.”

  Ben shrugged. “Not much else I can do. Not in this game anyway.”

  Coach called Jordan over a few minutes later. Ben went, too.

  “This is it, Jordan,” she said. “We’ve got about three minutes left to tie this game. Go in for Omar at the next whistle.”

  Ben tapped Jordan on the shoulder. “Run!” he said. “Don’t stop running until the game ends.”

  The Rabbits had control of the ball and were biding their time with it. They didn’t need to score. If they could let the clock run out, they’d walk off the field with a victory. The Bobcats had to put the pressure on.

  “Attack the ball!” Ben called.

  Erin was playing goalie for the Bobcats, but the other five had all moved up the field. The Rabbits were playing an effective game of keep-away, but the Bobcats were guarding them closely.

  Finally, Shayna intercepted a pass and kicked the ball back to Darren. Mark and Jordan both yelled for it, and Darren sent it across to Mark.

  Mark was faster than most of the Rabbits, and he raced along the sideline across the field from Ben. Ben ran in the same direction. So did all of the players on the field.

  Mark would often lose control of the ball when he tried to dribble long distances. And he was much more likely to shoot than to pass, even if he didn’t have a clear path to the goal.

  But maybe this was one time when Mark’s selfishness would pay off. There wasn’t much time left in the game. The Bobcats had to score.

  Mark approached the goal and fired the ball from a tough angle. The Rabbit goalie blocked it with both hands, but he couldn’t hold on. The ball bounced to the side of the goal.