by Ilene Cooper
His parents were ready for a new baby. Maybe he was, too. But Lucy wasn’t.
Practice
Mrs. Quinn called the park district about obedience class just a few minutes after the Baby Lady left.
Lucy had taken a group class at the park district over the summer. The teacher’s name was Wendy.
When Mrs. Quinn got off the phone, she said, “Lucy is registered for a private obedience class. It will be right after your soccer practice. But Wendy isn’t working at the park district anymore. Lucy will have a new teacher. Mr. Morris.”
That got Bobby’s attention. “You mean Coach Morris?”
Mrs. Quinn said, “Yes, I suppose so.”
“But how can Coach Morris also be Mr. Morris the dog trainer?” Bobby asked.
“Well,” Mrs. Quinn replied, “he works for the park district. Maybe he does several different jobs for them.”
Bobby looked at Lucy. He felt sorry for her. Coach Morris was very strict on the soccer field. He would probably be just as strict when it came to teaching a dog how to behave.
Sure enough, the next practice was no picnic. There was the usual drill. Kicking practice. Passing practice. Trying-to-steal-the-ball practice.
When it was over, the coach blew his whistle. “Gather round, everybody. I want to talk to you.”
Talking! That sounded great to Bobby. Much better than running.
The team sat in a circle on the grass in front of Coach Morris.
“Tomorrow is our first game,” Coach Morris began. He looked down at a card he held in his hand. “It’s against the Plainfield Rockets.”
“I have a cousin on that team,” Candy said brightly. “He said they’re really good.”
The coach frowned at her for interrupting. “Now, we’ve done a lot of practicing on the basics, but that’s different from playing a real game. A real game is tough.”
Bobby felt a knot in the pit of his stomach. He was sure that was true.
The coach continued. “Tomorrow, I am going to pick seven of you to start the game. One of you will be the goalkeeper.”
Bobby hoped it wouldn’t be him. The goalie tried to prevent the other team from scoring points. He could try to keep the ball out of the goal with his feet. He could use his hands as well. Bobby didn’t like the idea of the ball coming right at him. And if the ball got past him, well, that was bad. One point for the other team. If the Plainfield Rockets got more points, they would win.
No, Bobby didn’t want to be the goalkeeper. Absolutely not.
Coach Morris talked more about the next day’s game. Bobby’s attention wandered. He was thinking about Planet Man. His art teacher said the best pictures would be hung on the school wall. He hoped his was good enough.
“So, does everyone understand?” the coach asked.
Bobby looked around. His teammates were nodding. Bobby wondered what he had missed.
“So I will see you here for our game at twelve sharp,” Coach Morris said.
The Beagles got up to leave. Bobby saw his mother coming toward him. Lucy was on her leash, pulling her forward. It was time for obedience class. Poor Lucy. She didn’t know what she was in for.
Bobby leaned down to give frisky Lucy a pat. “Hi,” he said.
Coach Morris walked over to them. He greeted Mrs. Quinn. “So, I understand I’m going to be working with your dog.”
“This is Lucy,” Mrs. Quinn said.
Coach Morris replied, “Yes, I remember Lucy.”
Bobby couldn’t tell how he felt about that. “Can I go sit on the bench?” he asked his mother. All that running around had tired him out.
But before she could answer, Coach Morris said, “Oh, no, Bobby. You are going to be a part of this training. A big part.”
Bobby had worked with Lucy during her last obedience classes, but he’d thought maybe he would get a pass today.
“Lucy is your dog, isn’t she?” the coach asked Bobby.
Bobby nodded.
“Then you have to know how to control her,” Coach Morris said.
Bobby thought, I don’t want to control Lucy. I just want to have fun with her.
Coach Morris must have read his mind because he said, “Dogs like to have fun, but they like to know someone is in charge, too.” He turned to Mrs. Quinn. “What are Lucy’s biggest problems?”
“She barks,” Mrs. Quinn said with a sigh. “She chews things. She jumps on visitors.”
Lucy looked as if she would like to jump on the coach right now.
Coach Morris said, “Let me explain something to you. Dogs are pack animals. That means they like to have a leader. Out in the wild, a pack of dogs always had a leader. Our dogs want the humans in their lives to be their pack leaders. Otherwise, they will make up their own rules.”
“Well, Lucy has definitely been making her own rules lately,” Mrs. Quinn said, shaking her head.
“A beagle like Lucy needs lots of exercise. Is she getting it?” Coach Morris asked.
“Maybe not enough,” Mrs. Quinn admitted.
“She needs her own chew toys so she doesn’t chew shoes,” the coach said.
Or gloves, Bobby thought.
“She also must learn the meaning of the word ‘no,’ ” Coach Morris added. “We’ll make sure she learns it.”
Bobby frowned. Coach Morris sounded even more stern than he did on the soccer field. Mrs. Quinn seemed a little surprised by his serious tone, too.
Before she could say anything, the coach said, “Let’s start Lucy’s lesson.”
The next hour was an eye-opener for Bobby. Usually Lucy didn’t listen much to anyone. Not his mother. Not his father. Certainly not him. She had a mind of her own.
But right from the first, she paid attention to Coach Morris. Maybe it was the way he stood, as if he was in charge. Maybe it was the firmness in his voice. Either way, when he told Lucy to sit or stop barking, she looked up at him for a moment and did what she was told.
Then Coach Morris said, “Now you two are going to try to control Lucy. It’s important that each of you learns to be a pack leader, the one in charge.”
Bobby and his mother exchanged glances. It was one thing for Coach Morris to look like a leader—he was a leader. But Lucy knew from experience that she could get almost anything from her owners if she looked cute enough—or if she barked long enough.
The lesson ended with Bobby and his mother learning how to act like leaders. They stood tall. They tried to imitate the strength Coach Morris had in his voice.
Lucy looked confused at first. Who are you people? she seemed to say. Let’s play!
Bobby and Mrs. Quinn stayed firm. Only after Lucy had shown good behavior were they allowed to hug her or give her one of the treats Coach Morris had in his pocket.
“I hope the next time we meet, Mr. Quinn will be with us,” Coach Morris said. “I like to have the whole family involved when it comes to training a dog. Every member of the family needs to know how to work with its pet.”
“I’ll see that he’s here,” Mrs. Quinn said meekly.
Wow, Bobby thought. It seemed Coach Morris knew how to be the boss over everyone. Even his mom.
First Game
Bobby and his mother came home after Lucy’s lesson. They told Mr. Quinn all about it. He looked impressed.
“Coach Morris said you are going to have to get more involved, too,” Mrs. Quinn told her husband. “Maybe you could take Lucy out for a walk now and then. You both could use the exercise.”
When Bobby got up the next morning, his father was coming into the house after walking Lucy. Mr. Quinn usually did what his wife asked.
“Lucy and I just spent some quality time together,” he said, smiling.
Lucy jumped on the sofa and curled up. It seemed like the walk had tired her out.
“Down, Lucy,” Mr. Quinn said.
Lucy just looked at him.
“Down,” Mr. Quinn repeated.
Lucy rolled over and scratched herself.
Mrs. Q
uinn came into the room. “Down!” she said in her best pack-leader voice.
Lucy didn’t look happy about it, but she did get off the sofa. She walked out of the room, her tail high.
“How did you do that?” Mr. Quinn asked his wife.
“I guess I’m just more of a pack leader than you are,” Mrs. Quinn said with a smile.
Mr. Quinn shook his head and followed Lucy out of the room.
“Bobby,” his mother said, “Shawn called. He wanted to know if you could come over and practice before the game.”
Bobby shrugged. He took Lucy’s place on the sofa.
Mrs. Quinn sat next to him. “I take it you don’t feel like practicing,” she said.
Bobby shook his head. “I’d rather work on my Planet Man picture. I thought Shawn might want to work on our comic book. I asked him yesterday, but he never gave me an answer one way or the other.…” Bobby’s voice trailed off.
“Shawn’s mother told me how much he liked soccer when he played last year,” Mrs. Quinn said.
“He likes it this year, too,” Bobby said glumly.
“And you don’t?” his mother asked.
“It’s okay,” Bobby said.
Mrs. Quinn patted his hair. “You haven’t even played one game yet, Bobby. All you’ve done is go to practice sessions. It might still turn out to be fun.”
Bobby thought about his mother’s words while he was putting on his uniform. Soccer didn’t feel like fun. It felt more like taking a test. A real soccer game? That felt like a really big test.
Lots of people were at the park when Bobby and his parents arrived. Some people were sitting on the sidelines in folding chairs they had brought from home. Others were walking up and down the field.
“The nice weather has certainly brought out a crowd,” Mr. Quinn commented.
“I think every single player on both teams must have someone here,” Mrs. Quinn added.
Too many people, Bobby thought. He felt as if a soccer ball was rolling around in his stomach.
Coach Morris blew a long blast on his whistle.
Mr. Quinn gave Bobby’s shoulder a pat. “I think your coach is trying to get the Beagles together.”
Bobby slowly walked over and joined his teammates.
“Hey, Bobby, where’s Lucy?” Candy asked. “She should be here. She’s our team mascot, after all.”
“Lucy’s not ready to be here yet,” Coach Morris answered for Bobby. “She needs to learn how to control herself first. A game would get her too excited.”
Once all the team had gathered, Coach Morris began his pep talk. “I know this is your first game. But I expect to see good offense and defense out there.”
He called out several names, including Dexter’s and Tim’s. The coach told those kids they would be forwards, the players in charge of moving the ball toward the Rockets’ goal. Bobby was one of the defenders. He would help keep the ball away from the Beagles’ goal. Coach Morris picked Candy to be the goalkeeper.
Bobby looked at Candy. Even she seemed a little worried about having such an important position.
Coach Morris sent Dexter out with one of the Rockets for the coin toss. The kids who knew a lot about soccer called Dexter the striker. That meant he was the best kicker on the team.
Heads! The Beagles won the toss. Coach Morris told Dexter to kick off.
Dexter didn’t try to kick the ball too far. Coach Morris had told them the idea was to keep control of the ball and move it down the field. Dexter and a couple of the other kids passed the ball back and forth toward the Rockets’ goal. They didn’t do too well. One of the Rockets stole the ball away.
Now it was time for Bobby and the other defenders to stop the Rockets.
That didn’t happen. With one long kick, a Rocket put the ball inside the Beagles’ goal. Candy just watched it whiz by. Her mouth formed a big round O.
That was the way the game went for the first half. The Rockets had the ball most of the time. They made another goal. Bobby ran up and down the field, but he never came close to having his foot on the ball.
At halftime the score was Rockets 2, Beagles 0.
Coach Morris said, “We’re two behind. But we can catch up. I want to see more kicking. Defenders, you were letting the Rockets control the field. I’m going to shake things up in the second half. Offensive players, except for Dexter, you go on defense. Defense, now you’re offense.”
Bobby was now an offensive player. He sighed. Trying to make a goal seemed even harder than playing defense.
As it turned out, it didn’t seem to matter if he was playing offense or defense. Once again, he didn’t get anywhere near the ball during the second half of the game.
Shawn kicked the ball to get it down the field. Then he passed it to Dexter. Dexter made one hard kick. Goal!
The game finally ended. The Rockets won, 2 to 1.
All Bobby got for his effort was a lot of sweat and tired legs.
Coach Morris didn’t look too mad when the team gathered after the game.
“Beagles, we’ve got a lot of work to do.” He took off his cap and rubbed his fingers through his gray hair. “Our passing isn’t great. Except for Dexter, our shooting isn’t much, either. Candy, you did okay as goalie. But next time, I’m going to give someone else the chance to play that position.”
Coach Morris looked around the circle.
Bobby put his head down. The chance to play goalkeeper? The coach made it seem like a prize. Who wanted a prize like that?
Second Game
The Beagles’ second game didn’t go much better than the first.
This time they played a team called the Wasps. Their sting was pretty sharp.
With ten minutes left in the game, Coach Morris said, “Bobby Quinn, I want you in as goalie. Stop those Wasps!”
It was the longest ten minutes of Bobby’s life. He stood at the goal line hoping the ball would not come to him. One time, it did come close. Good thing Shawn stole the ball away from the Wasp who was moving it toward the goal.
Bobby gave a sigh of relief. He was even happier when the game ended.
The score was the same as the game against the Rockets—2 to 1. Wasps win.
Coach Morris gave the team a talking-to. He told the Beagles everything they had done wrong. It took him a while to finish.
“We’re going to practice harder next week. And I want you to practice at home. That’s the only way this team is going to become winners,” Coach Morris told them.
During the week, Bobby tried to forget about soccer. On Wednesday, he missed midweek practice. He was home sick with a sore throat. He stayed home from school on Thursday, too. By Friday he was fine. He was glad to go back to school. He didn’t want to miss art class. He wanted to show Miss Olson, the art teacher, his picture of Planet Man.
Miss Olson told the children they should draw their picture in pencil first. Then they could go on to markers or paint.
Bobby was very glad to be working in pencil. He needed to do a lot of erasing. His picture was of Planet Man on a horse, chasing two men who were dumping garbage in a river. Drawing Planet Man was easy. Drawing the horse was hard. The horse looked as if it had a mattress for a body and sticks for legs.
“I’m going to keep working on my horse,” he told Miss Olson when he showed her the sketch.
“Yes, the horse needs work,” Miss Olson agreed. “Everything else is very good. Take some horse books out of the library. Trace the horses on paper. Then practice drawing your own horses.”
“I’ll do that,” Bobby said. He was eager to get started.
On Saturday, Bobby and his parents went to the park early with Lucy for her obedience lesson. Today, Lucy’s lesson had been changed to before soccer practice. Lucy seemed eager to get started. That surprised Bobby.
“Lucy likes her training,” Bobby whispered to his father.
Coach Morris heard him. “She feels comfortable. You must be practicing with her.”
“We are,” Mrs. Quinn
agreed. “Lucy seems to understand that we’re the ones in charge.”
“And she’s a happier dog for it, isn’t she?” the coach asked.
Bobby had to admit it was true. Lucy didn’t fuss as much as she used to. She wasn’t bored, because they kept her busy. She seemed much calmer. That meant fewer chewed socks and shoes. Not so much howling.
“I think Lucy will need only a few more lessons,” Coach Morris said. “She’s got the idea now.”
“Lucy!” Mrs. Quinn said. “Good for you!”
Mr. Quinn patted Lucy on the head.
Lucy stood tall, her tail up. She seemed to know she was a good student.
“Good for all of you,” Coach Morris said. “This is what happens when you work hard as a team.”
Coach Morris seemed to be looking right at Bobby. And he seemed to be talking about more than Lucy.
After Lucy’s lesson, it was time for the Beagles’ practice session. Maybe the coach is right, Bobby thought. Maybe I should work more at soccer. During practice, he paid attention to the coach’s directions. He tried harder to kick the ball, and he did manage to kick it a few times. Even when Coach Morris made him practice as goalie, Bobby gave it his best effort.
Coach Morris noticed. “You’re trying, Bobby.”
“Thanks,” Bobby replied. He didn’t think he was getting much better. But at least he was giving it his best shot.
Sunday morning, Bobby woke up to the sound of rain, a hard, driving rain beating against the window. There was a sharp clap of thunder. Lucy jumped up on Bobby’s bed.
“Don’t be scared,” Bobby said, giving Lucy a hug. He didn’t like thunder, either, but he wanted to show Lucy he was brave.
The rain had lightened a little by the time Bobby came downstairs for breakfast. His father was making what he called “the best oatmeal ever!”
Every time Mr. Quinn said that, Bobby replied, “There’s no such thing as the best oatmeal because all oatmeal is bad.”
“Nonsense, Bobby,” Mr. Quinn said, putting a steaming bowl in front of him. “Oatmeal is good and good for you.”