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To Barbara, Mark, Tim, and Renee
Soccer ’Cats Team Roster
Lou Barnes Striker
Jerry Dinh Striker
Stookie Norris Striker
Dewey London Halfback
Bundy Neel Halfback
Amanda Caler Halfback
Brant Davis Fullback
Lisa Gaddy Fullback
Ted Gaddy Fullback
Alan Minter Fullback
Bucky Pinter Goalie
Subs:
Jason Shearer
Dale Tuget
Roy Boswick
Edith “Eddie” Sweeny
Chapter 1
Jason Shearer popped a piece of gum into his mouth, then bent over to tighten the laces on his sneakers. Soccer practice was about to start.
“Hey, Jason, got any more gum?” Dale Tuget looked hopeful.
Jason fished around in his pocket and came up empty-handed. “Wait a minute,” he said, tapping his chin. “I do have a piece of ABC gum. Want that?”
Dale shrugged. “Okay.”
Jason spit out the gum he’d been chewing and held it out to Dale. “Here you go!”
Dale shrank back. “Yuck! That gum’s already been chewed!”
Jason stuck the gum back in his mouth. “Exactly! It’s ABC gum—Already Been Chewed! Get it?” He slapped his leg and laughed.
“Dale! Jason!” The voice of their coach boomed behind them. “Stop horsing around and get ready for warm-ups.”
Dale and Jason hurried to join the other Soccer ’Cats on the field.
The Soccer ’Cats were playing the Panthers in a week. The Panthers were a tough team. Coach Bradley planned to work on some plays for the game.
“I’ll need your full concentration today, ’Cats,” he said as he set out cones and balls. “But let’s loosen up with some drills first.”
The ’Cats formed two lines. One after the other, they dribbled as quickly as possible through the cones, then shot on the goal. After ten minutes of this, they moved on to a passing drill, then a passing drill with defense in place. Bucky Pinter, the team’s starting goalie, was in one goal. Jason volunteered to go in the other, and the drill began.
Jason kept up a steady stream of chatter as each player came toward him.
“First up is Stookie Norris. They say Stookie’s got a shot so sweet he should change his name to Cookie. He weaves, he shoots, he—oh, oh, he misses! Well, that’s the way the cookie crumbles!”
Stookie growled. Jason laughed.
“Dewey London takes a turn. Hmmm, Dewey or don’t we think he’ll be able to outfox this goalie?” Jason did a little jig and repeated in a singsong voice, “Dewey or don’t we? Dewey or don’t we?” Dewey, distracted, tripped and fell. Jason called out gleefully, “Guess, we don’t, Dewey?”
“Knock it off, Jason,” Dewey said, getting up and brushing off his shorts.
Jason raised an eyebrow. “But this is my tried-and-true method of goalkeeping!”
“Tried-and-true, my foot!” Stookie Norris sneered. “You hardly ever stop a ball in practice, and I don’t think you’ve ever been in a game as goalie. It’s a good thing, too, for our team record’s sake!”
Jason was about to retort when a hand on his shoulder stopped him.
“May I have a word with you?”
Chapter 2
Coach Bradley was standing behind him.
“Uh, sure, Coach. Of course.”
Coach Bradley led him a few paces away from the goal.
“I don’t think you’re taking practice too seriously today.”
Jason looked sheepish. “Aw, I was only kidding around.”
Coach Bradley gazed at him for a long moment. “Jason, I know I haven’t worked much with you on goalkeeping techniques. If you like, I’ll take some time after practice today to show you a thing or two.”
Jason was looking forward to playing computer games after practice, so he decided to fib. “That’s okay, Coach. I’ve been paying attention to what you’ve been telling Bucky, so I know what to do.”
“That’s good,” the coach said, “because you’re the starting goalie for the next few games.”
Jason blinked. “What?” he squeaked. “What about Bucky?”
“Bucky is going on vacation. So I’m glad you’ve been listening.” Coach Bradley patted him on the shoulder, then turned his attention to the rest of the team.
Hoo boy, Jason thought. His stomach did a flip-flop at the thought of being in the goal for a whole game. And the first game would be against the Panthers!
“Hey, Jason, you look like you just saw a ghost,” said Dale as Jason walked by him. Jason didn’t reply.
In fact, Jason didn’t say another word for the rest of practice. As one ball after another soared past him and into the net, he began to realize how little he knew about being a goalie.
Jason was picking at his dinner that night when the telephone rang. It was Dale.
“What happened to you during practice?” Dale asked.
Jason explained about Bucky’s vacation. Dale whistled.
“So you get to be starting goalie, huh? Well, I’ll miss you on the bench.”
“Keep my seat warm for me,” Jason said dejectedly. “I’m sure I’ll be back beside you before halftime.”
“Why don’t you ask the coach to give you some extra help?” Dale asked.
Jason cleared his throat. “Ah, I sort of told him I knew what I was doing. How can I go to him now and tell him I really don’t?”
“Well, then let’s get a book from the library or find a Web site that explains how to play goalie. Maybe reading about it will help you master it.”
“Oh, I’ll be the master all right,” Jason replied glumly. “Master of disaster, that is.”
Chapter 3
The next morning, Dale sat in front of the computer in his bedroom, hands poised over the keys. Jason stood behind him.
“So, how do we do this?” Jason asked.
Dale gave him a surprised look. “Haven’t you ever gone online before?”
Jason shook his head. “We’re not hooked up to the Internet yet.”
“Well, it’s pretty easy,” Dale said. He typed in a few commands to get to the World Wide Web, then paused. “It’s sort of like using a dictionary or an encyclopedia. You tell the computer what you want to know, and it searches for it. It finds you a list of Web sites that have to do with your topic. Let’s try searching under the word soccer.” He typed some more. Within moments, a long list of soccer Web sites appeared.
Jason groaned. “Are we going to have to look at every one of those?”
Dale laughed. “Nah, we’ll ask the computer to look for something a little more specific. Let’s try soccer goalkeeper.” This time, the list was shorter. Dale scrolled the screen down slowly so he and Jason could read the entries.
Dale tapped the screen. “This looks good!” He moved the cursor with the mouse and clicked to call up the site.
As Jason watched, the screen changed until it looked like a page from a soccer magazine.
“Cool!” Jason said enthusiastically. “So where’s the info on how to be the best goalie ever?”
Dale moved the mouse again and clicked on the word goal
keeper. The soccer screen was replaced by another screen, this time filled with images of famous goalkeepers.
Dale drummed his fingers on the desk. “Says here you can click on one of these pictures and get tips from the goalies themselves on how to improve your play. Wanna try one?”
Jason pointed to one picture. “I recognize her. Let’s try her first.”
Dale clicked on the picture. A new screen appeared. Both boys read silently.
After a moment, Jason sighed. “Do you understand any of this?”
Dale shook his head. “Not really. Let’s try another goalkeeper.”
But the next one wasn’t much help, either. Neither were the two after that. “I think these might be for people who already know the basics of playing goalie,” Jason said finally. “That’s not me.” He slumped down on Dale’s bed.
“There are lots of other sites we could try,” Dale offered.
“Yeah, but who has the time to read through them all to find the right one?” Jason complained. “Besides, even if we did find a good one, how could I learn from it? It’d be stuck inside your computer.”
Dale logged off the computer and the screen went black. “We can always try the library,” he suggested.
Jason shoved off the bed. “I guess it can’t hurt. Let’s go.”
At the library, they searched the sports-book section until they found a simple beginner’s guide to goalkeeping. Jason checked it out and they headed back to Dale’s house.
The two boys flopped onto Dale’s bed and read the book start to finish. When they were both done, Jason rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling.
“I’m doomed. There’s no way I can learn to do all that stuff by the game,” he said dismally. “I can hear it now: ‘Ladies and gentlemen, introducing today’s goalie, Jason Shearer, the Master of Disaster himself.’ ”
Chapter 4
Jason left Dale’s house with the book under his arm. Dale gave him a weak thumbs-up.
“I’m doomed,” Jason repeated to himself. On the way home, he passed a playground. It was near lunchtime, so the place was practically empty. Only two kids were there.
One of the kids had a basketball. She was doing some kind of drill where she’d dribble up to the hoop, stop, then toss the ball toward the basket. Jason stopped to watch.
Man, he thought after a minute, she must have the worst shot in the world. She hasn’t made one yet!
Then he realized that she wasn’t practicing her shooting, she was practicing her rebounding. Jason watched for a minute longer, then turned to look at the other kid.
The kid was running the bases. When he neared second, he hit the dirt and—headfirst, belly down, hands outstretched—slid until his fingers touched the base. Then he stood up, dusted off his shirt, and took off for third. This time, he slid feetfirst.
“What a weird way to spend your afternoon,” Jason thought, shaking his head.
When he got home, he sat at the table, opened his library book, and began to read it again.
After an hour, his mind was swimming with information. He let his head fall with a thump on the table. “No way,” he said to the tabletop.
That’s how his mother found him when she came into the kitchen. She burst out laughing. “Goodness, Jason! What are you doing, getting a close-up look at your place mat?”
Jason lifted his head. She stopped laughing when she saw the look on his face.
“Is there something I can do to help?” she asked kindly.
“Got a magic potion that will turn me into an expert goalkeeper?”
Mrs. Shearer smiled and ruffled his hair. “Sorry, sport, but there’s only one way you can get better at anything. Practice.”
Jason’s head thumped down again. He was still sitting like that when the phone rang. It was Dale.
“We’re getting together for a pickup game of soccer tomorrow morning,” he informed Jason. “Maybe you could come and work on your goalkeeping stuff.”
“What goalkeeping stuff?” Jason said with a snort. But in the end, he agreed to play.
Several of the Soccer ’Cats were already at the field when Jason arrived the next morning. Stookie, Bundy, and Dewey were kicking a ball around while Lou, Amanda, Ted, and Lisa chatted. Dale showed up a few minutes later.
“Anyone else coming?” Bundy asked. “What about Bucky? He always shows up for these games.”
“Not this time,” said Dale. “He left for two weeks’ vacation yesterday after practice.”
“What!” Stookie cried. He put his hands on his hips. “So who’s going to be our goalie?”
Everyone looked at Jason. Stookie rolled his eyes. “Oh, great. Mr. Comedian himself.”
“Hey, give him a chance,” Dale protested.
Bundy cut in. “There’s nothing we can do about it, so let’s just get on with the game,” he said matter-of-factly. “There are nine of us, so how about three-on-three with goalies? I’ll sit out until the first goal is made, then sub in for whoever made it.”
The others agreed and chose up sides quickly. Stookie, Amanda, Dewey, and Jason were one team, with Lou, Dale, Lisa, and Ted as the other. Ted volunteered to play goalie.
“Are these teams fair?” Lisa wondered aloud as the teams took up positions. “Ted’s never played goalie before.”
Stookie booted a ball to her. “Trust me, they’re fair. I mean, it’s not like Jason knows what he’s doing, either. Soccer’s just a joke to him.”
Chapter 5
Stookie’s words stung Jason’s ears. They hurt all the worse because Jason knew they were true. He hadn’t been taking the Soccer ’Cats seriously. He was always clowning around during practices and wisecracking on the bench during games.
Now he wished he’d paid a little more attention. He tried to remember all the book had talked about, but everything was a jumble in his brain.
The pickup game started. Stookie and Amanda played the strikers against Lou and Dale. Lisa played defense opposite Dewey. Stookie and Lou did rock, paper, scissors to decide who’d start with the ball. Stookie won.
“Okay, here we go!” he cried. He set the ball down and tapped it to Amanda. Dale immediately tried to steal it from her, but Amanda was too quick. She dodged around him and took off down the field. When she saw Lou streaking toward her, she booted a pass to Stookie.
Stookie controlled the ball and made for the goal. Lisa came out to meet him. Stookie surprised her by belting the ball straight toward the goal. Ted made a feeble grab for it but missed.
Bundy came running onto the field as Stookie came running off. “Man, that was quick,” Bundy said, slapping hands with his teammate as they passed each other. “If only it would be that easy against the Panthers!”
The two teams lined up again. Lou, Dale, and Lisa whispered together for a moment before Lou put the ball in play. He passed to Dale, then, instead of running downfield as Stookie had done, he dropped back behind Dale.
Confused, Bundy and Amanda both tried to follow Lou. Dewey ran up to challenge Dale. No one saw Lisa as she charged past Dale, but they all heard her when she yelled, “I’m open!”
Dale booted the ball to her. She caught it cleanly on her instep and turned to face the last obstacle on the field—Jason.
Okay, steady now, Jason thought. He tried to remember what the book had said about one-on-one situations. Come out of the goal or stay in? Crouch down or spread arms and legs out to cover more area? Jump, slide, catch, punch, kick—what am I supposed to do?
Lisa wound up and kicked. The ball came rocketing toward the goal like it had been shot out of a cannon. Jason jumped, arms outstretched, reaching for the ball—and missed.
“Oh, man,” he heard Stookie groan from the sidelines. “He jumped over the ball! The game is going to be a disaster!”
Chapter 6
Jason stood up slowly, red-faced with embarrassment. As Stookie traded places with Lisa, Dale jogged up to Jason.
“Shake it off,” Dale advised. “Try to remember what
the book said to do.”
“I am,” Jason said glumly. “But it’s all mixed up in my head.”
“Hey, Dale, c’mon!” Amanda cried from midfield. “Let’s get playing!”
Dale gave Jason one more encouraging look before he hurried back to his position.
The rest of the game was a blur. Jason tried, but he just couldn’t seem to get anything right. When the ball was hit high, he jumped too soon—and could only watch as the ball soared over his fingertips as he landed. When it was a bouncing grounder, he lunged too late to stop it before it hit the back of the net. The only time he caught it was when it was kicked directly at his stomach. It hit him so hard he fell down, gasping for air.
As if that wasn’t embarrassing enough, Stookie made sure Jason knew what he thought of his playing ability.
“I wonder if the scoreboard goes up to three thousand? ’Cuz that’s probably how many goals the Panthers are going to score on Friday,” he said after Jason muffed another easy shot on goal.
“Ball goes right, goalie trips over own feet and falls left,” he cracked as Jason landed in the dirt. “You really showed ’em that time.”
And when Jason crashed into the goalpost headfirst, Stookie just threw up his hands in disgust.
The other players gathered around Jason. “Are you okay?” Dale asked with concern.
Jason nodded, fighting back tears. He wasn’t hurt, just totally humiliated.
“Course he’s all right,” Stookie said, bouncing the ball from one knee to the other. “The kid’s head is made out of wood.”
Dale whirled around, eyes blazing. He grabbed the ball away from Stookie and slammed it to the ground.
“Leave him alone, Stookie!” Dale cried. Stookie stared at him, astonished. The others, including Jason, looked equally surprised.
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