by Rich Wallace
Ben sprinted to the front of the goal. Jordan sent a soft, high pass into the air. Ben planted his feet. The goalie and the nearest defender were taller than he was.
I can outjump them, Ben thought. He leaped as the ball came down, meeting it squarely with his forehead. The ball made a line drive into the goal.
Ben had tied the score! He turned to the kid with the yellow wristbands. “Red!” he yelled. Then he ran to Jordan, jumping again and bumping his chest against his teammate’s.
“We turned that around,” Jordan said. “We threw those insults right back in their faces.”
Ben, Mark, and Jordan ran back to the Bobcats’ end of the field, slapping each other’s palms as they went. “Hamburger!” “Butterfly!” “Red!” they shouted in turn.
The referee brought the ball to the midfield circle so the Sharks could put it back into play. But then he raised his hand and blew his whistle.
The ref waved for all of the players to join him in the circle. He had a thick gray mustache but not much hair on his head.
“What’s going on?” Jordan asked.
“That can’t be the end of the game,” Ben said. “Let’s go up and see.”
“Just a caution,” the referee said when all the players were there. “I’m hearing too much trash-talking in this game. There’s a lot on the line, but let’s decide the outcome with our soccer skills, not our big mouths.”
Ben looked over at the kid with the wristbands. He was looking back at Ben from the other side of the circle. Ben blushed a bit and looked away.
The referee smiled. “There’s just under three minutes to go,” he said, “and the game’s tied.” He stepped out of the circle and blew his whistle.
The Sharks put the ball into play. They controlled it for nearly a minute, then lost the ball out-of-bounds.
Mark made a long throw-in, but Kim had the ball stolen before she reached midfield.
The Sharks brought the ball down the field and took a weak shot. Shayna scooped it up and punted it high. Ben drifted under it, keeping his eyes on the ball. As it came down, he tensed his shoulders and puffed out his chest, waiting to trap it.
Just as the ball arrived, Ben felt a shove. He shoved back with his arm and the ball bounced off the ground, continuing up the field.
“Sorry,” said the Shark with the wristbands.
“No problem,” Ben said as they both chased the ball.
Ben got to it first.
“Trailing!” called Erin, who was coming up behind. Ben knocked the ball backward, then moved away as the defender turned toward Erin.
Get open! Ben told himself.
Erin sent the ball back to Ben, and he took off with it at a sprint. He could see Jordan coming up the middle of the field, but he wanted to lure the last Shark defender away before passing.
Just as expected, the Shark ran toward Ben. After two more steps, Ben passed the ball along the grass, angling it in front of Jordan.
Jordan took the ball without breaking stride. Ben ran toward the goal, too, but he never took his eyes off Jordan. The only Shark between Jordan and the net was the goalie.
“Trailing!” Ben called, but Jordan didn’t need help. He made a series of quick fakes that left the goalie reeling. Jordan shot the ball deep into the corner of the net.
Ben dropped to his knees and shut his eyes. He raised both fists, then leaped up and grabbed Jordan in a bear hug. The Bobcats had the lead. If they could hold it for another minute, they’d be in the play-offs.
“Everybody back!” Ben yelled. “Defense!”
The Sharks brought every player up, including the goalie. They were desperate to tie the score. Ben and Jordan chased the ball wherever it went, and the rest of the Bobcats stuck close to the other opponents.
A pass across the center of the goal box looked dangerous for a second, but Kim ran up and kicked the ball the length of the field. It rolled across the end line. Two of the Sharks sprinted back to get it, but the play killed a lot of time.
When the final whistle blew, Ben shut his eyes again. He wanted to shout, but he couldn’t even speak. It had been a while since he’d felt this happy. Erin smacked him on the shoulder, and even Mark said, “Great game, Ben.”
Ben nodded. He’d played his best game of the season. He was shouting with joy inside.
He hugged Jordan and Erin, then hacked up some saliva that was stuck in his throat.
“Great game, Red,” Erin said. “Can you believe it? We did it!”
“We earned it, French Fry,” Ben replied with a laugh. “That was our toughest game, but it was the hardest we ever played, too.”
“Next week will be even tougher,” Erin said. “I’ve never been in any kind of play-off before.”
“Me either. But I already can’t wait.”
Ben looked around at the tired players from both teams. Everyone had played their hearts out.
He and Erin led the way as the Bobcats walked to midfield to shake hands with the Sharks. When Ben reached the kid with the wristbands, he shook extra hard. The guy was a great competitor.
They tried to upset me with all the trash-talking, Ben thought. But I kept my mind on the game.
Because of that, the Bobcats had made it to the play-offs.
BEN’S TOP TIPS FOR SOCCER PLAYERS
• Let the ball do the work. Keep it moving by passing it.
• Talk to your teammates on the field, letting them know when you’re open. Call “Trailing!” if you’re coming up from behind, for example.
• Pass to a player who has space to work with, not one who is tightly guarded by an opponent.
• Keep control of your emotions. Getting angry or frustrated won’t help you play better.
• The most important rule: Always have fun!
