A Goal for Joaquin

by Jerry McGinley

  Anger started to boil inside. Why is he yelling at me, he wondered. It was Cocoa who nearly killed me. Why not say something to her? He imagined Coach Sommers laughing on the far sideline.

  A whistle blew and Joaquin saw Sean Kramer come trotting toward him. “You’re out, Lopez. Coach wants to talk to you.” Sean slapped Joaquin’s hand as he went by. “Good job,” he said without expression.

  Joaquin trudged toward the sideline. Buzzy was waiting with a bottle of water and a towel. “Here, cool off a minute. Then I want to talk to you.” Joaquin followed his coach’s orders without saying a word. After a minute or two, Buzzy was beside him again. The coach put his hand on his player’s shoulder. “You know if Cocoa wouldn’t have flattened you out there, I was thinking about running out and doing myself. She was giving you a wake-up call, you know.” His voice was perfectly calm, and his eyes were still glued to the play on the field. “You know we can beat these guys, and I know how much that means to you. But you have to get your head in the game. Right now you’re playing like bronco-rider a who’s more concerned with hurting the horse than he is with winning the rodeo. You’re so bent on getting revenge against your old coach that you’re letting the game get away from you. You don’t play soccer because you want to prove something. You play because you want to see your team put the ball in the goal, and you want your defense to keep the other team from scoring. It’s a simple game, Joaquin. Now you stand there, and when you think you understood what I said, you tell me and I’ll put you back in the game.” Buzzy walked away leaving Joaquin alone to consider the crafty old coach’s words.

  Joaquin walked over to the bench and sat down. He put his head between his knees and tuned out the rest of the world. Everything was falling apart. His teammates were out there playing their hearts out without him. His family and Jessica and Brian were in the stands waiting for him to do something. Everybody, in one way or other was into the game, but there he sat sulking and feeling sorry for himself. Maybe he was afraid to play his best because maybe he knew he wasn’t good enough. Maybe he wanted an excuse to sit on the bench so that he’d have an excuse for not doing anything to beat his old team. Maybe Coach Sommers was right all along. Maybe Joaquin was a big loser. All these doubts spiraled through his brain as he sat there. Then he thought about Cocoa. Why did she go out of her way to knock him down? What was she trying to prove? He’d never seen Cocoa doing anything to hurt anybody. Why him? Then he remembered what Buzzy said. It was a wake-up call. Of course, he really was out of position on that play. Did he think he had to do everything? He knew Cocoa wasn’t mad because he had tried to cut into her territory. She was mad because his play had hurt the team’s chances of scoring a goal. He understood now. He was ready to give it another try.

  “Coach,” he said humbly, “I think I’m ready to go back in now.”

  “Good, it’s almost half-time. You stand here and cheer for your teammates until the half ends. Then you’ll get back in there after the intermission.” He patted Joaquin on the shoulder again. “Don’t worry about it, kid. You’re not the first player to ever lose sight of what a game is all about. You’ll do fine.”

  During his half-time speech, Buzzy never mentioned what happened with Joaquin. Instead he pointed out the good things that his team had done the first half. He praised the defense, especially Monte and Kari for their aggressive play. He concluded by saying he wanted everybody to play as hard as Cocoa did the first half.

  Before play started again, Joaquin walked over to Cocoa who was sitting on the ground adjusting her shin guards. He noticed how pretty she looked even though her face was streaked with sweat and mud, and she had a nasty scrape on her forearm. “Sorry about what happened out there,” he said in a quiet voice. “I had no business trying to play that ball. It was your ball all the way. I was out of position.” He started to walk away.

  “It’s okay,” she said, “and I didn’t mean to hit you so hard. I get a little pumped up out there myself.” She was smiling now as she spoke.

  “I noticed,” Joaquin returned the smile. He rubbed his ribcage. “I know I’m going to be sore in the morning.” He reached out his hand to help her up. “Let’s go play soccer,” he said. She got slowly to her feet, and they trotted together toward their positions.

  Chapter 20

  The second half was like a different game. Willowdale came out playing much more aggressively. Less than three minutes into the half, Lakeshore lobbed a shot toward the goal. Kari headed it out of the box to the fullback who sent a long pass down the right side of the field. Cocoa took control and started toward the goal. She centered the ball to Joaquin who dribbled around one defender, then faked out the sweeper and sent the ball toward the net. The goalkeeper got a hand on the ball but wasn’t able to stop it. The ball rolled in for a goal. Pandemonium broke out on the field. Joaquin ran toward the corner, did a flying somersault and danced over to receive high-fives from his teammates. In all the commotion, no one noticed the referee waiving off the goal. When order was restored, the ref put both hands on his hips and pointed toward the right corner of the field. In his excitement to be ready to back up Joaquin’s shot attempt, Julio had run by his defender and passed the ball. He was called for offsides and the goal was nullified. The official set the ball in front of the goal and offered a free kick to Lakeshore.

  Now it was Joaquin’s turn to offer reassurance to his teammate. He rushed over and slapped Julio on the back. “No problem, man,” he said. “We’ll get them next time. You showed them they can’t stay with you.” Julio nodded his agreement, but his head hung low as he moved back into position.

  The ball moved quickly up and down the field for the next several minutes. Lakeshore was not giving up. They worked the ball back and forth between players. It wasn’t like the previous season when all action was focused on one player. Now they were working as a team. But Willowdale played tough defense. The fullbacks and midfielders were marking their men and sticking with them. The two teams were evenly matched.

  Half way through the period Cocoa intercepted a pass and headed down the field. She was quicker than her defender so she pushed the ball swiftly up the sideline. When she was thirty-five yards from the goal, she looked to the center of the field to see who was open. Joaquin was guarded by two players. She looked ahead to Julio, but he was tightly defended too. Suddenly with a lightning quick spurt, Cocoa dribbled directly at Julio just the way they had practiced. She faked to the inside of the field, and her defender went for the fake and ran into Julio. Julio’s defender was slow in switching coverage, and Cocoa got a two step advantage. That was all she needed. She flashed toward the goal and launched a rocket of a shot toward the goalie. Purely by instinct the surprised keeper threw both hands in the air and knocked away the shot. Out of nowhere Joaquin came flying toward the net. He leaped into the air and took the ball squarely on his forehead. With a snap of his neck he redirected the ball back toward the right goal post. The keeper didn’t have a chance. The ball sailed into the net untouched. Chaos exploded again. This time the referee signaled for a goal.

  Joaquin was swarmed by teammates. Players were rolling on the ground. Joaquin was jumping up and down. The voice on the loudspeaker shouted, “Goal by Lopez. Assist by Mareno. The goal comes at the seventy-five minute mark in the game.” From the Willowdale side of the field Joaquin could hear the fans cheering. He felt redeemed for his poor playing the first half. He ran over and draped his arm around Cocoa’s shoulder. “Just fifteen minutes left. We have to hold him,” he shouted.

  From the sidelines Coach Budzinski bellowed out orders. “Now we have to hold them out there. Don’t let up. Make sure you mark your man and then stick with him. No mistakes.”

  The teams lined up for Lakeshore’s kickoff. The forward rolled the ball back to his center midfielder. The big center mid sent a long line-drive down the center of the field. His teammates rushed to take control. There was pushing and shoving by both teams to get control of the ball. Kari took control an
d passed ahead to Meta who kicked the ball upfield. A Lakeshore player intercepted and fired the ball toward Monte. Instead of grabbing the ball with his hands, Monte decided to make a kick save. He booted the ball out of the box, but he didn’t kick it squarely. The ball trickled off to his left foot. Like a big cat, a Lakeshore player lunged at the ball. He took two quick dribbles to get the line he wanted and then drilled it into the goal. Monte was out of position and stared hopelessly as the ball flew by. The score was tied with less than ten minutes to play.

  During the final ten minutes the intensity picked up. The ball went back and forth with neither team ever threatening to score. The physical contact increased too. Several tripping and pushing fouls were called, and one player from each team received yellow warning cards for rough play. Joaquin’s mouth was dry and pasty. He needed a break, but there was no way he wanted to come out of the game. He had played for nearly forty-five minutes straight without stopping to catch his breath. In all that time he had not thought once about Coach Sommers or about what had happened the previous season. He was playing now just for the sake of playing. He was in a zone where he was able to tune out all distractions. He got the ball with just a few seconds remaining. He raced down the field. He knew time was running out. He set himself to shoot, but before he could put his foot into the ball, he heard three shrill blasts on the referee’s whistle. Time had run out.

  Both teams dragged themselves to their respective sidelines for the eight-minute break before heading back out for two ten-minute overtime periods. The players lay in front of the bench drinking water and panting loudly. Another twenty minutes seemed like forever. But there was no quitting now. Coach Budzinski rallied his troops. He praised them for their aggressive play. “We outplayed these guys. The games is ours if we just keep hustling out there. If anyone is too tired to keep going, let me know so that I can put in fresh horses.” No one responded. Everyone wanted to stay in the game.

  During the first overtime period not much happened. Fatigue was showing on both teams. It appeared that everyone was trying to save themselves for the final minutes. The team that caught a second wind would win the game.

  During the second ten minutes, action picked up. Another Lakeshore player received a yellow warning card for tripping Julio from behind. Julio took the free kick but sent a wild shot twenty feet to the right of the goal. The ball was still moving back and forth with neither team dominating the play. Suddenly, with about five minutes left in overtime, Joaquin got a breakaway run at the goal. He was moving toward the front of the penalty box almost ready to shoot, when he was struck from the side by a vicious tackle. The ball trickled harmlessly across the end line, but Joaquin went tumbling violently across the grass. He heard the bone snap before he felt the pain. By the time he stopped rolling, he was already cradling his broken right wrist in his left hand.

  Coach Budzinski rushed out on to the field. All the Willowdale players formed a circle around Joaquin who lay writhing in pain on the ground. The referee broke into the circle to check the injured player. He signaled for the scorekeeper to stop the clock. Within minutes Joaquin was back on his feet. He didn’t say anything about how much his wrist hurt. He held onto his wrist and tried to stifle any cries of pain. Amidst the commotion, the Lakeshore player was given a red card and was ejected from the game. Lakeshore would have to play with only ten players for the remainder of the game.

  When order was restored, the referee signaled for an indirect free kick. Buzzy argued that Joaquin had crossed into the penalty box so it should be a penalty kick. A penalty kick would’ve matched one player from Willowdale against the goalkeeper. It’d be a one-on-one showdown. Advantage would clearly go to the licker. But the official refused to listen. Lakeshore players quickly lined up in a four-man wall ten paces from the ball. Joaquin insisted on staying in for the free kick. At first Buzzy said no, but then realizing how much the game meant to Joaquin and how hard he’d been playing since halftime, he changed his mind and left him in the game. The team had a play designed for this situation. Julio took the free kick and sent it back to Cocoa who passed it to Joaquin. All of the passes were perfect, but Joaquin couldn’t get enough power behind his shot to get it by the defense. After much scrambling and pushing the ball rolled harmlessly across the end line, and the referee gave possession to Lakeshore.

  While Lakeshore was setting up for their goal kick, Buzzy asked the referee for permission to substitute for his injured player. Joaquin argued that he was all right, but he reluctantly walked toward the sideline. Once out of the game he quickly grabbed an ice bag and wrapped the ice in a towel and applied it to his wrist. He was pretty sure it was broken, but he decided not to say anything because he didn’t want to risk not getting back in to play. “I’m okay, Coach,” he pleaded, “let me back in.”

  “You’re not okay and you know it,” Buzzy argued. “Now there’s only a couple of minutes left and then we’ll go to a shoot-out. You’re not going do any good out there the way you’re hurting.”

  “But coach, if I’m not in the game when the final whistle blows, then I can’t take part in the shoot out. You have to pick five players who are in the game when the whistle blows. Please let me go back in for just the last minute. Please!”

  “Oh, I’m crazy to even consider it, but if play stops for a throw-in, I’ll signal for a substitution.” Buzzy shook his head as he spoke.

  Joaquin looked at the scoreboard. There were less than two minutes left to play. What were the chances of a throw-in in that amount of time? He prayed that the ball would roll out of bounds so that he could get a chance to get back in. He wondered why it had to be so tough to substitute in soccer. Why couldn’t a coach stop play like in other sports.

  Then with just over a minute left on the clock, a Lakeshore player kicked the ball out of bounds to stop a Willowdale drive. Coach Budzinski quickly called to the official and rolled his arms to signal a substitution. The referee acknowledged his request and waved in the new player. Joaquin dropped his ice and towel and jogged toward his position. “Now, ” Buzzy shouted to Joaquin, “no contact out there. Just stay away from the ball.”

  The final seconds ticked off the scoreboard. The ref blew three times on his whistle. Time had run out, and still the score was Lakeshore 1 and Willowdale 1.

  A shoot-out would decide the outcome of the game. Both coaches got to select five players to shoot penalty kicks. The goalkeepers were the only defensive players allowed to try to stop the kicks. Buzzy looked at his team sitting huddled like weary soldiers on the grass. “Monte, keep loose. You’re going to have your hands full the next ten minutes. Now, I need some kickers. Joaquin do you want to try it?”

  Joaquin nodded. “I don’t have to have a good arm to kick the ball. I’m ready.”

  “Okay, you kick first. Get it over with and then get some ice on that wrist. Cocoa you’ll shoot second. Kari you’re third and Mark Hanson will go fourth.” He paused and looked over his players. “Julio, you get the fifth shot. We may have already won by that time, but be ready anyway. Okay, let’s get out there.”

  Monte ran toward the goal without a word to anyone. He’d had a pretty easy game, maybe three or four saves. Of course, he could only remember the shot that got by. Willowdale won the coin toss and decided to shoot last. Monte lined up in the goal and faced his opponent twelve paces in front of him. Both players waited for the signal from the referee. When the whistle blew, the Lakeshore player took two steps and then booted a low shot at the corner of the goal. Monte dove at the ball and deflected it away from the goal. Next it was Joaquin’s turn. He took his spot and waited for the opposing goalkeeper to get set. At the sound of the whistle, he stepped forward and took a powerful kick. The ball screaming toward the post on the left side of the goal. With a loud thump it smacked against the metal post and bounced back at Joaquin. He lowered his head and walked back to his teammates. He couldn’t believe he had missed his chance. He took an angry kick at the turf. Still cradling his throbbing wrist,
he moved several feet from the other players and sat down on the grass by himself. He stared at the net hoping his teammates could pull out a win.

  The second Lakeshore player missed his shot to the right of the goal. Then it was Cocoa’s turn. She waited calmly in front of the goal. She took a deep breath and took three steps behind the ball. When she heard the whistle, she took one easy step then exploded toward the ball. Her shot took off like a missile. Before the goalie could even think about moving, the ball was hanging in the net three feet from the ground. Joaquin couldn’t believe the velocity that carried the ball into the net. He sat in awe as he watched Cocoa rejoin the team. There was a delayed reaction before the Willowdale players and fans broke into loud hoots and cheers. Cocoa showed little emotion as she took her spot on the grass. There was too much on the line.

  The third Lakeshore shooter countered Cocoa’s goal by putting a ball just under the crossbar. Monte lunged but couldn’t reach it. The next three shots all missed their mark. The score was one penalty shot apiece with just one player left to shoot. Julio nervously moved toward the ball. Joaquin hoped his friend was able to tune out the off-side call earlier in the game. He could read the tension on his Julio’s face. The biggest play of the season rested on a player with almost no experience. Julio had never scored in a regulation game. He paced off three steps and then waited for the signal. The Lakeshore goalie dug in. The whistle sounded and Julio moved toward the ball. He rolled a shot toward the the left corner of the net. The goalie reacted quickly and caught the ball before it crossed the goal line. Julio looked helplessly at his teammates. He had failed to break the tie.

  Suddenly over the sounds of the cheering Lakeshore players, Julio heard the referee shouting something about a violation. The official came running toward Coach Budzinski waving his hands and blowing his whistle. He gestured at the two coaches, instructing them to meet with him in front of the goal. The three huddled in front of the net for a few minutes. As the meeting broke up, Coach Sommers violently kicked the grass and swore loudly. Coach Budzinski trotted back toward his players with a huge smile on his face. He clapped his hands and then shook his fist in the air. When he got back to his tight huddle of players, he explained that the Lakeshore goalkeeper had moved to get in position before the referee had blown his whistle. He wasn’t set in position and therefore the shot had to be played over. Willowdale had another chance to win.