Saving the Team

by Alex Morgan

“So what did you learn from this game?” Coach asked.

  “You gotta listen to your driver!” Jessi said.

  “When you’re a tank, you gotta trust your driver first?” Frida chimed in.

  “Be patient with your tank,” Emma added. “Especially me.”

  “You are all correct!” Coach Flores said. “Listening, trusting your teammates, and patience are all incredibly important tools! But my favorite lesson that this game teaches is that, sometimes, it’s important to just let loose and have fun.”

  Coach was a genius! Not only had this silly game helped our teamwork skills, but our team had never laughed so much together. And she’d still done it her way—the fun way!

  I caught Coach Flores’s eye, and she gave me a wink. She was right: Listening was an important skill. And she had clearly taken my words to heart. I couldn’t wait to see what else she had in store for us! But first I had my own plan to put into action—turning Zoe and Frida into two of the Kicks’ most valuable players!

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  While the rest of our teammates headed to the locker room, Jessi, Emma, Zoe, Frida, Brianna, Sarah, Anna, and I stayed behind. They were still smiling over the great practice when they huddled around me.

  “That was so much fun!” Anna cried, her big brown eyes shining.

  Brianna nodded. “I’m so busy with all my other extracurricular activities, I was thinking of dropping soccer. But not anymore!”

  Zoe looked at me curiously. “Did you have anything to do with this, Devin? I saw you going into Coach’s office yesterday.”

  I smiled. “Yes, and that’s when I found out about the Kicks being state champs!”

  “Well, whatever you said worked,” Emma said. “That was awesome! I feel like we really have a chance at being a team now. Maybe a champion team. Who knows? Maybe history will repeat itself.”

  “So what’s your big idea?” Jessi asked, her eyebrow raised.

  “Yeah, we’ve been wondering all day,” Frida added. “I told my mom I would be late coming home from practice today. She was shocked! I’m usually texting her the second it’s over to come and get me.”

  I took a deep breath. I hadn’t thought this all the way through, but the glimmer of an idea had taken hold in my mind last night. I had to give it a try.

  “Frida,” I began, “I know your mom is making you play soccer, but Jessi said you’re a really great player when you’re paying attention.”

  “It’s not like I hate soccer or anything,” Frida admitted. “It’s just that I’d rather be acting.”

  “Well, what if you could practice your acting and play soccer at the same time?” I asked hopefully.

  Everyone looked at me, surprised.

  “Um, how exactly would she do that?” Sarah wondered.

  “What if we could give you a part to play at every game?” I said. I had my fingers crossed that Frida would be willing to give this a try. “Like, maybe one week you could be an undercover spy, sent to infiltrate our soccer team? Or you could be a secret princess who just wants to live a normal life and play soccer and stuff?”

  I looked eagerly at Frida. Her hand was on her chin, rubbing it slightly as she thought.

  “Hmmmm,” she said. “Interesting. So I could play soccer, but I’d really be acting?”

  I nodded. “Each week we would give you a new character with different motivations, so you’d get to try different roles while you played.”

  Slowly a smile spread across Frida’s face. “Devin, that’s brilliant! I can’t believe I never thought of that before.”

  Jessi jumped in. “But all the characters will be good players who want to win, right?”

  I laughed. “Of course!”

  “So is that the only reason you asked us here?” Sarah asked.

  “No.” I shook my head. “I was hoping there would be a way for Frida to help Zoe.”

  “Me?” Zoe asked, her eyes growing wide.

  “You get stage fright,” I explained. “Frida has no problem getting onstage in front of a crowd of people. She’s got to have some tips.”

  Frida smiled. “You bet I do! Did you know that three quarters of all performers get stage fright? It happens to everyone—even to me sometimes! Sure, there are some tricks that could work for Zoe when she’s playing soccer.”

  “So why don’t you talk to Zoe?” I suggested. “Then we can take turns playing with her, while some of us sit and pretend to be the audience.”

  Frida grabbed Zoe enthusiastically. “This is going to be great! First you’ve got to visualize the game going perfectly. If you picture it going well, it will! Another proven winner is to picture everyone in the crowd as one person. Picture everyone as Emma, or your mom, or even your pet! Whoever your biggest cheerleader is.”

  They walked off together, Zoe taking in every word Frida was saying.

  Jessi playfully tapped me on the shoulder. “I’ve got to hand it to you, Captain. That was some smart thinking.”

  After Zoe and Frida huddled for a while, we took turns playing with Zoe and being the audience. She really started to loosen up, and soon she was zipping all over the field. My jaw dropped.

  “See? We told you she was good,” Emma said with a smile.

  I remembered back to the sleepover at Emma’s when we had wished on the shooting star. I think my wish was starting to come true!

  I gulped. I was sitting between Frida and Emma, a spoon in my hand. Would the Kangaroos be able to overcome their toughest challenge yet?

  We were all sitting together that Thursday night in the Sock Hop, a fun restaurant decorated to look like a 1950s diner. The waitresses wore poodle skirts and saddle shoes, while the waiters were dressed all in white, wearing bow ties and little white paper hats. The floor was black-and-white tiles, and every wall inside was filled with old posters and advertisements, like the one offering soda for two cents a can.

  The Kangaroos had taken over a long white and steel table in the back, with bright red vinyl chairs. Our parents and Coach Flores were there, getting ready to take photos of the action. My dad had his trusty video camera in his hand. He gave me a thumbs-up as he smiled. I looked at the door hopefully. The only thing missing was Jessi. I had texted her earlier but had gotten no answer, which was weird. But the Giant Purple People Eater, a massive icecream sundae, was about to come for us.

  Our waitress, who had her red hair teased up into a puffy hairdo, smiled. “Are you girls ready?” she asked.

  “Yes!” we yelled in unison, pounding the table with our fists. A gong went off in the back, temporarily drowning out our voices. Then two more servers emerged, each carrying a huge wooden bucket.

  Inside each bucket were twenty scoops of amazing ice cream of all flavors.

  That’s right, we had ordered two Giant Purple People Eaters. The sign at the Sock Hop said that this sundae would eat you before you could eat it! And we were going to race to see which team could finish theirs first.

  Emma, an icecream junkie, had always wanted to try this and had talked the rest of us into it as a team-building exercise. Every person to finish a Giant Purple People Eater got their name on a plaque on the wall. The manager of the Sock Hop had agreed to put the Kangaroos’ name up on the wall if we could eat two of them in less than ten minutes. At first Coach Flores had said no way, that part of being on a sports team was learning good nutrition. And my mom was horrified when I told her! But we wore Coach down, and I was able to talk my mom into letting me do it, with a little help from my dad. It was all in good fun! And I had a feeling once would be enough. This definitely wouldn’t become part of our daily diets.

  The oversize buckets were so big, we had to stand up over them. This was going to be disgusting. We all exchanged worried glances.

  “It’s gigantic,” Zoe said, cringing.

  “I’ll eat your share, don’t worry,” Emma said, practically drooling at the site of all that ice cream.

  Our waitress hit a switch on the jukebox, and the song “Purple
People Eater” began to play. It was a silly song from the 1950s.

  “Go!” she yelled.

  We dove in, and stuffed our faces with ice cream as fast as we could while the music played loudly and our parents cheered us on.

  Halfway through our bucket, I stopped and took a few deep breaths. I was running out of room in my stomach.

  “Keep going!” Emma said, her mouth crammed with ice cream. She had it smeared all over her face.

  Less than ten minutes later, we’d done it. We’d finished forty scoops of ice cream. Our waitress banged the gong five times to sound our success. Everyone in the diner cheered for us. We all high-fived one another, even though our hands were pretty sticky.

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” Emma moaned. “Whose stupid idea was this, anyway?”

  Even Brianna’s long blond hair had ice cream in it. “It was yours, you nut!” she reminded Emma.

  “Ugh,” said Zoe. “Nuts sound disgusting.”

  It was too much. We were all laughing our heads off, which only made our stomachs hurt more.

  “You girls,” our waitress said, laughing. “You’re a hoot—a real bunch of kicks!”

  “That’s because we are the Kicks!” Grace, our new eighth-grade captain said, with a messy ice-cream-smeared smile.

  “Kicks, Kicks, Kicks, Kicks,” Anna started chanting. Soon everyone joined in, even our parents.

  I looked around the room, at everyone smiling and laughing. We were more a team than we’d ever been before. But I couldn’t be completely happy. Where was Jessi?

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Later that night, after recovering from a massive brain freeze and a bit of a stomachache, I called Jessi’s house, half-expecting her not to be there.

  “Hello?” She picked up.

  “Where were you tonight?” I asked, launching in before she could say anything else. “Are you okay? Are you sick? I texted you, like, five times. I was getting worried!”

  There was a pause on her end. “Devin, I couldn’t go because I couldn’t go,” she said. Then I heard a small sniffle from her end of the phone.

  “Jessi, what’s wrong?” I asked.

  “I didn’t text you back because my cell got taken away. And I’m off the team. I can’t play soccer anymore! I’m flunking math and Spanish, and my mom said the rest of my report card is almost as bad.”

  I was too stunned to speak. I knew Jessi wasn’t doing great in school, but I’d had no idea she was failing. “You can’t even go to practice or team events?” I finally managed to ask.

  “Nothing. It’s straight to school and then straight back. That’s it.”

  “I’m so sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say. This was crushing news. Not just for Jessi but for all of us. We had just started to come together as a team, and now we were losing one of our best players.

  “My parents say I can start playing if I get my grades up,” Jessi said.

  “Let me know if I can help,” I said.

  Jessi gave a little hiccup. I could tell she was holding back tears. “I can’t believe how bad I messed up,” she said sadly.

  “Don’t worry. If you work hard and stay focused, you’ll get those grades up!” I tried to encourage her.

  I heard Mrs. Dukes’s voice in the background.

  “I have to go,” Jessi said in a very tiny, un-Jessi-like voice. “Bye, Devin.”

  “Bye.” I put the phone down. I felt so bad for Jessi!

  I didn’t know how to help Jessi, but I knew I had to do something for the team. We really had a lot of momentum behind us now. Losing Jessi could totally derail us.

  So I found Zoe the next day during lunch and explained the situation to her. “We need you to score. Do you think you’re up to it?”

  Zoe nodded slowly. “Frida and I have been getting together every day. She’s really giving me some great tips. I’m pretty sure they’re working. I really won’t know, though, until we have a real game.” She started to get a little pale. “But I’ll do my best.”

  “No pressure, but we have our rematch with Pinewood coming up. I really don’t want to lose to them again. Especially now that Mirabelle’s on their team.”

  I saw a spark in Zoe’s eye as I mentioned our former teammate. “Beating them, that would be sweet,” Zoe said.

  I really hoped she’d be able to get over her fear of playing under pressure. The team needed her now more than ever.

  Soccer practice would have been perfect the next Monday, except for the fact that Jessi wasn’t there. Coach Flores had us running some pretty tough drills on the kicks that had given our team its nickname, but then we ended by playing a fun game of Capture the Flag with soccer balls. Coach’s new style was really working. The fun stuff balanced out the hard work and kept us feeling like a team that was in this together.

  “Great practice, Kicks,” Coach told us, smiling.

  Zoe, Emma, and I were feeling pretty good after practice and decided to head over to the local diner for a snack.

  “I wish Jessi were here,” Zoe said sadly.

  Before Emma or I could say anything, we heard a shout.

  “Look out!”

  A Frisbee appeared out of nowhere, heading right for us. All three of us ducked, but the Frisbee still managed to crash into Emma.

  “Ouch!” she said, rubbing her forehead.

  “Sorry. Are you okay?” a boy said, running toward us.

  Emma nodded.

  “Um, can I have my Frisbee back?” he asked. I picked up the Frisbee and tossed it back. Somehow, as if by magic, it curved back around and threatened to decapitate Emma again.

  “Whoa, what’re you doing?” Emma said, this time getting out of the way, barely.

  “You should just always walk around with a helmet,” Zoe said, and laughed.

  “Sorry,” I said to her while picking up the Frisbee and handing it directly over to its owner this time.

  Poor Emma. She never failed to trip over something, and she could always be counted on to knock things over.

  Wait a minute. A brilliant thought hit me. If flying objects were magnetically attracted to Emma, which they obviously were, it made sense that soccer balls would be too. I bet Emma would be totally unfazed by soccer balls zooming at her. Maybe she’d be good at deflecting them too.

  Instead of getting in the way, which she always did on the field, we could turn her weakness into a strength. Emma as goalie!

  I got really excited. This would solve so many problems! For one, she would always be facing the right way, which would already make her twice as effective. She also wouldn’t have to worry about being in position ever again. Huge plus. Most of all, goalies were supposed to get in the way, and nobody got in the way better than Emma.

  On top of that, if Emma was goalie, she could swing her arms around all she wanted. In fact, that’s what she was supposed to do.

  As we sat down in a booth and ordered our food, I kept seeing Emma as the Kicks’ goalie. By the time my grilled cheese had arrived, I was ready. I was certain my idea was genius. If I could get Emma to agree.

  First a little test. I threw a fry at her.

  Direct hit.

  “Hey, what’re you doing?” she said, launching her own fry in my direction. She missed, of course, the potato missile falling harmlessly a few feet away.

  “I just wanted to get your attention.” I couldn’t stop a grin from spreading across my face. “There was something else I was wondering. Have you ever played goalie before?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. Never really occurred to me, I guess.”

  “Maybe you should give it a try,” I encouraged her. “I think you’d be a natural at it.”

  “If being goalie is so great, how come nobody ever wants to play goalie?” Emma asked.

  “Well, most people don’t understand that being goalie is actually a very rewarding role,” I said, using my best sales pitch. “A goalie needs to be both mentally and physically strong. They need to be able to stay positiv
e when they get scored on. And we need someone the team trusts in that position.”

  “Why would they trust me? I scored on our own team!” Emma reminded me.

  “They trust you because you are always so positive and want everyone to do their best,” I said. “Plus, if you’re in the goal, you can’t score on yourself!”

  Zoe laughed at that, and Emma joined in.

  “That’s a good point,” she said, before taking a bite of her hamburger and munching thoughtfully. “If you think I’ll be good as a goalie, I’m willing to give it a try, Captain,” she said once she had swallowed.

  I smiled. The Kicks kept getting better and better!

  “I got it, I got it!” Emma screamed when a Rancho Verdes Viper got close enough to take a shot. The shot was weak, but Emma dove a little late and the ball dribbled in for a score. 1–0. Even though she was a natural, it was taking some time to get Emma adjusted to goal. But it was only her first game—and an away game, at that.

  “Shoot,” she said, shaking her head.

  Before we could even say anything to encourage her, Emma’s enthusiasm bounced right back. “I’ll stop the next one, no problem.” She shifted back and forth on her heels and clapped her goalie gloves.

  “Let’s go, dee-fense!” It was Emma’s first official time in goal, and it looked like she was loving it. For one, she could certainly yell louder than just about anyone else. “You guys need to help me out; it’s not just me against the world here!”

  When Rancho Verdes threatened with another scoring chance, Emma snuffed it out by leaping into a pile of bodies and emerging with the ball. Now that she could use her hands, Emma was magic.

  Our entire defense was so much better. The skills that Coach Flores had been teaching us had really helped. We had learned to actually communicate on the field. Led by Emma, directing traffic in front of her, our back line was looking great. Especially when Emma managed to stop the next three Rancho Verdes shots. Her entire family chanted her name after each save: “Em-ma!” Em-ma!” Soon all the Kangaroo parents were doing it.

  There was no doubt about it: Emma was brilliant in goal. She had no problem being the last line of defense. It didn’t even faze her. In fact, she liked it. Plus, deflecting the ball miraculously turned out to be a natural skill. If a ball could get past her, it probably deserved to go in.