by Rich Wallace
“Kim!” he called, dropping back as his teammate got trapped near the sideline. She turned and passed the ball to Ben, and he took it on the run.
Jordan was open to Ben’s left. Ben took another step with the ball as Mark and Omar darted over to defend. As they closed in, Ben passed the ball sideways to Jordan, then drifted back toward the center of the field.
As the defenders moved toward Jordan, Ben cut between them. Jordan sent the ball streaming across the grass, and Ben took it cleanly as he closed in on the goal. Only Shayna had a chance to stop him.
Ben raced toward the left side of the goal, then softly passed to Kim. She was alone in front of the cones, and she easily tapped it in for a score.
“Great teamwork!” Coach shouted. “See what happens when we pass? And when we move to get open?”
Ben bumped his fist against Kim’s, then trotted back to play defense. Making a pass like that felt as good as scoring a goal.
Mark came flying down the field, straight at Ben. At the last second, he tried to make the move, stepping over the ball and knocking it back. But Ben saw it coming a mile away. He stepped in and knocked the ball loose, sending it up the line toward Kim.
Ben was several steps ahead of Mark, and the goal was wide open in front of him. Kim sent a brisk pass toward the front of the goal, and Ben ran it down. Another easy shot and another goal. Ben’s team was looking strong.
“Good thinking,” Coach said, clapping her hands. “Sometimes your best weapon in soccer is your brain.”
Ben looked at Kim and grinned. She’d been playing well lately. In fact, Ben could see a lot of improvement in all of his teammates. He was certain that they’d get a lot of wins before the season was over.
“Play-offs, here we come!” Ben called.
“Long way to go,” Mark said. “But nothing we can’t handle.”
“Time for a switch,” Coach said. She waved Darren back onto the field.
“Who’s going out?” Ben asked.
“Nobody,” Coach replied. “One thing to know about soccer is that there are a lot of mismatches. Sometimes you’ll be all alone on defense with three or four opponents around you. You have to know how to react when you’re outnumbered.”
“So it’s four-on-three?” Ben asked.
“Yes. Darren will join Mark’s team. Let’s see if they can slow down that awesome Ben-Kim combination.”
Ben blushed a little and shook his head, but he broke into a smile. He and Kim had made a couple of great passes. It was a terrific feeling to click like that.
Mark’s team managed to score, but then Jordan showed some excellent footwork to put Ben’s team in position again. He passed to Ben, who faked a pass to Kim and sent it back to Jordan. By passing back and forth and moving quickly, Ben’s team kept control of the ball despite being outnumbered.
Kim finally took a shot, but Omar ran it down and kicked it over to Shayna.
“Spread out!” Ben called, running back on defense.
He knew the other team would always have a player open if they played a smart game, so if Ben’s team bunched up they’d definitely get burned. He stayed toward the center of the field, with Jordan taking the left side and Kim the right.
Mark passed to Shayna, who passed it to Omar, who found Mark open near the corner. Mark lofted the ball toward the front of the goal, and Darren managed to control it. He took an off-balance shot. Ben got to it first and booted it up the field.
After a few more minutes of nonstop running, Ben was exhausted. But they’d kept the game even, despite having one less player.
When Coach finally blew her whistle to halt the scrimmage, Ben flopped onto the grass and spread out on his back.
“A little tired?” Coach asked, standing over him.
“Tired and excited,” Ben said. “I can’t wait until Saturday.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Two Fakes at Once
Ben arrived at the field very early for the game on Saturday, eager to warm up and watch the first match between the Eagles and the Sharks.
He saw his friend Luis “Loop” Pineda jogging toward him. He played for the Falcons, the Bobcats’ opponents today.
“Hey, Loop,” Ben called.
“Watch out today,” Loop said. “We’re ready to roll.”
Ben knew that the Falcons hadn’t won a single game this season. But Loop was a good athlete, so they’d probably give the Bobcats a tough time.
“We’ve been close in every game,” Loop said. “Just haven’t had the breaks go our way.”
“Don’t count on getting them today,” Ben said. “We were great in practice the other day. Passing, shooting. You should have seen us.” He didn’t mention the faking. It seemed like he should keep that to himself.
Loop gave a sly smile. “We had a pretty good practice, too. Things are coming together.”
“We’ll see,” Ben said.
“Yeah, we will.”
Ben’s teammates began to gather a while later, and they headed to the far side of the field to work on their passing skills. Ben glanced over several times to check on the Sharks-Eagles game. He also could see the Falcons in their red shirts, warming up in the distance.
Just before game time, Coach Patty had the Bobcats huddle up. “You’ve been working hard, people. Let’s use our heads and play smart today.”
“And hard!” Ben said.
“And hard,” Coach repeated. “Good sportsmanship and lots of energy.”
“This is a definite victory,” Ben said. “No way these guys can beat us.”
“Just like in practice,” Kim said. “Lots of passing.”
“This is our day,” Jordan said. “Our big win streak starts right here. Today.”
They put their hands together in the center of the huddle and called, “One. Two. Three. Bobcats!”
Ben and Shayna started as the Bobcats’ defenders, with Mark, Erin, and Omar in the front line and Jordan as goalie.
“Nothing gets past us,” Ben said.
Shayna nodded. She adjusted her shin guards and hopped up and down. “These guys are fast,” she warned.
“So are we. Besides, if we play the way we did in practice, the ball might not even come down this way.”
But it didn’t take long for Ben to be proven wrong. The Falcons made some crisp passes and moved the ball down the field. No player held the ball for more than a couple of steps, firing it to a teammate and quickly moving to an open spot.
Ben sprinted toward the player with the ball and Mark headed over, too.
No way is this guy getting past me, Ben thought.
The kid was fast, as Shayna had said, but Ben was forcing him toward the sideline. When the Falcon player stepped over the ball and dodged to the side, Ben was ready. He knew that move. He knew which way the kid was going.
Ben leaned to his left but didn’t commit. As he expected, the kid went that way, and Ben was ready to knock the ball away. He lunged. And just as quickly, the kid took the ball in the opposite direction, racing past Ben and into the open field.
Ben stepped back and fell, landing on his butt. He jumped up and scrambled toward the ball, but it had already been passed. Loop was open in front of the goal, fielding the ball and shooting it into the net.
“Alex left you flat-footed,” Loop said as he jogged past Ben.
Less than a minute had gone by and the Bobcats were already behind. Ben put his hands on his hips and stared at the sky. How had that happened?
“Let’s get it back!” called Mark, clapping his hands. “That was a fluke. Let’s go.”
Ben shook his head and returned to his position. Loop was beaming up ahead. He’d scored the goal, but it had been set up by the kid who faked out Ben.
Ben had to admit, that had been a very tricky move.
The Falcons kept up the pressure, dominating the game for most of the first half. Ben and Shayna played tough defense and Jordan made a couple of great saves, otherwise the Falcons would have built a big lead.
<
br /> As they walked off the field at halftime, the score was still only 1–0. But the Bobcats had done very little on offense.
“Rest up,” Coach said. “We’re still in this game. One quick goal and it’ll be all even.”
Ben bit down on his lip and looked around. Every time he’d had the ball, a swarm of Falcons seemed to be in his face. He’d made some good passes, but just as often he’d kicked it to the other team.
“Let’s get some speed on the front line,” Coach said. “Jordan, Ben, and Kim. Erin and Darren on defense. Shayna in goal. Remember—be smart. Rapid passes, then move to an open spot. These guys aren’t any better than you are, they’re just hustling more.”
Ben looked at Mark. His face was red and he was sweating. He’d been running on offense for the entire game.
“I’m sure you’ll be back on the field soon,” Ben said.
“Better be,” Mark said. “You need me out there.”
“Wonder what got into that team, anyway?” Ben said. “They lost every game, and now they look like superstars.”
“Guess it just clicked,” Mark said with a shrug. “We got a lot better all of a sudden, too. At least I thought we had.”
“We did,” Ben said. “You’ll see. This second half will be different.”
Ben jogged onto the field and began to stretch lightly. Jordan walked over to him. He was a quiet kid but very fast.
“Watch Alex’s head,” Jordan said, nodding toward the Falcon player who had faked Ben out at the beginning of the game.
“What for?” Ben asked. “Does he have three ears or something?”
Jordan grinned. “When he does a fake, he always looks in the direction he intends to go. He might dodge this way”—Jordan gave a quick step to his left—“but if you watch his eyes they’ll be looking the other way. And that’s where he’ll end up.”
“Good tip,” Ben said.
The referee set the ball at midfield and Jordan hustled to get in position. Ben looked up the field and caught Loop’s attention. Loop squinted and patted his chest, then pointed at Ben as if he was ready to mow him down, but he was smiling, too. Ben pointed back.
With the ball in play, Ben’s focus shifted entirely to the game. A one-goal difference could be wiped out in seconds.
Jordan was moving up the side of the field with the ball, so Ben hung back slightly, with Kim on the opposite side.
As Loop and another defender moved toward Jordan, Ben shouted for the ball. Jordan turned and sent it skimming across the grass, several yards in front of Ben. He was the closest one to it.
Ben could see the play developing. Kim was sprinting to his right, and the entire field was open in front of her. Ben reached the ball and didn’t break stride. He dribbled once, then sent it toward Kim.
Loop and the others raced to slow Kim down, but she was nearing the goal. Still on the run, Ben looked for Jordan. They both needed to set up by the goal for a pass or a rebound.
Kim was too far to the side to shoot, but she floated a nice pass toward the front of the goal.
Ben got his foot on it, but too many Falcons were between him and the net. He knocked it awkwardly toward Jordan, who stopped it with his foot, stepped back, and fired.
The Falcons’ goalie got both hands on the ball but couldn’t quite grab it. It rolled to the side of the field and Loop gave it a hard boot, sending it well past midfield.
“So close,” Ben called as he and Kim and Jordan ran down the field.
“Good passing!” Jordan said. “Keep up the pressure.”
Soon the Bobcats made another charge at the goal. Kim took a shot that bounced off the goalpost, and Ben lined the rebound directly into the goalie’s hands. They hadn’t scored, but they were dominating the second half.
Ben had the ball near midfield, moving quickly. Loop and another Falcon were blocking his path, so he pivoted and passed the ball backward toward Erin, who was following about ten yards behind.
But Ben’s pass was off the mark. Alex took control of the ball and began dribbling swiftly toward the Bobcats’ goal. Loop and another teammate were already moving in that direction, and they were several steps ahead of Ben. So only Darren and Shayna were between the three Falcons and the goal. A couple of nice passes set up an easy shot for Alex, and suddenly the Falcons were two goals ahead.
Ben felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach. He shook his head and stared at the goal. The Bobcats had been playing so well—passing, dribbling, nearly scoring—but just like that it had fallen apart because he’d made a bad pass.
The Falcons didn’t seem like a team that hadn’t won a game all season. Today, at least, they were the best team the Bobcats had played.
It was hard to find a spark after that. Mark came onto the field and the Bobcats made a few more runs at the goal, but they couldn’t manage to score.
Late in the game, Alex booted in another goal for the Falcons, and it ended 3–0.
“We’re the worst,” Ben said as he and Erin walked off the field. His eyes were stinging and his throat felt tight. He sniffed hard.
“Those guys were good,” Erin said.
“And what does that say about us?” Ben took a seat on the grass and yanked off his shin guards. “Not much.”
He lay back on the grass, not wanting to move. The sky was clear and the air was warm, but Ben was steaming mad. He shut his eyes and frowned.
A few seconds passed, then he felt a nudge on his shoulder. He opened his eyes and saw Loop standing over him, smiling broadly.
“Great game,” Loop said.
Ben pushed up on his elbows and looked away. “You guys got the breaks today.”
“We made those breaks,” Loop said. “About time, too. I told you we’d been playing well.”
“I know,” Ben said. He swatted at the air with his fist. “I said the same thing about us. That sure wasn’t true.”
“Whatever,” Loop said, jogging away. “You got burnt today. See you in school.”
Loop stopped a few yards away. “Hey!” he called.
Ben turned his head to look. Loop gave that same squint he’d done at halftime, patting his chest and pointing at Ben. Then he smiled and ran.
“What a jerk,” Ben said.
“Chill out,” Erin said. “We did do well. Two or three plays made all the difference in the game. Otherwise we were as good as they were.”
“If we were as good as they were, we would have scored,” Ben said. “Good teams get it done. We didn’t. They made us look like chumps.”
KICKERS
CHAPTER FIVE
A Brain Sprain
Ben moped around the house all afternoon after the game.
“It’s a nice day,” said Mom. “Don’t waste it. You should be outside.”
But Ben just sat in his room, angry about losing again.
“We could play catch in the yard,” Dad said a while later.
“No thanks,” Ben said. He shut his door and lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling.
“Hey, knucklehead. Want to play a video game with me?” said Larry an hour later, knocking on the door.
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Suit yourself,” Larry said. But he opened the door.
“What?” Ben asked.
“It was only a soccer game,” Larry said. “There’ll be plenty more of them.”
Ben shrugged. “Maybe not. I was so awful today they’ll probably kick me out of the league.”
“No, they won’t.”
“They should. We got pounded by the worst team in the league.”
“So what?” Larry sat on the edge of the bed. “Everybody has an off day. And you know what? Everybody has great days, too.”
“I sure haven’t lately.”
“You will. Last season my cross-country team got clobbered in a race by Arlington. But two weeks later we beat them in the league championship race.”
“We won’t be playing in an
y championship unless we get a lot better,” Ben said.
At dinner, Mom told Ben to eat his carrots.
“I already ate some,” he said.
“Eat them all.”
Ben just looked at his plate. The carrots were overcooked and mushy.
“Soccer is supposed to be fun,” Mom said. “Win or lose. You can’t be a pain at home every time you lose a game. That’s not fair to anybody.”
Ben jabbed a fork into a carrot. “Losing is terrible,” he said. “Especially when it was my fault.”
“The whole team wins or loses,” Dad said. “Not one player.”
Ben frowned.
“Did you learn anything in the game?” Mom asked.
“I learned how much I hate to lose.”
“But did you learn anything that can help you win?”
Ben thought about that for a minute. “I thought I learned that in the last game,” he said. “When I got faked out. I spent the whole week working on fakes of my own. But those guys today had even better fakes. They made me look dumb.”
Ben looked across at Larry. Larry had never been very good at sports, but he’d played basketball and Little League baseball. He’d joined the cross-country team when he’d entered junior high school. He’d trained hard all summer, so he’d become very fast. This was his second season in the sport.
“Hard work pays off,” Larry said. “You’ll see when you come to my race next weekend.”
“I worked hard for a whole week,” Ben said.
Larry laughed. “Sometimes it takes years.”
“The season is half over!” Ben yelled.
“Lower your voice,” Mom said. “You have to learn to take losing in stride, Ben.”
Ben slammed his fork down. “Losing stinks.”
Dad stood up. “Go to your room, Ben. If soccer is this much of a problem for you, then maybe you’d better stop playing.”
“I don’t want to quit.”
“Then stop being a brat about it,” Dad said. “Get upstairs and think this over.”