by Fred Bowen
His eyes settled on the United’s first league game next Saturday.
We better beat the Kings, Josh thought. Or maybe I will to go back to the Flames.
Chapter 7
Josh raced down the pitch. “Evan!” he shouted, calling for the ball. “Lay it off!”
Evan ignored Josh and kept dribbling upfield. The Kings defense closed in on the United midfielder. Evan tried to squeeze between two defenders, but he stumbled and lost possession.
Josh stopped in his tracks. “Come on, Evan!” he shouted. “Pass the ball!”
But there was no time to waste arguing. The Kings were on the attack. Josh turned and ran back downfield, still thinking angry thoughts with every step. I must’ve run up and down this field a hundred times and I’ve barely touched the ball. Maybe I should just join the track team. He glanced at the scoreboard.
The score hadn’t changed. The United still trailed, 1–0.
The Kings kept up the attack, passing quickly after one or two touches. The crisp passing kept the United defenders off balance, constantly chasing the ball.
A Kings wing slipped a dangerous pass toward the middle. A Kings forward bolted into the penalty area looking for a shot.
Desperate and a step behind, Aidan tried to get his foot on the ball. But his leg caught the guy’s ankle and the two players tumbled in a heap 15 yards from the United goal.
Tweeeeeet! The referee blew his whistle, raced over, and stood above the two players. Pointing at Aidan, he pulled a yellow card from his shirt pocket and held it in the air. Penalty on Aidan. And a penalty kick for the Kings.
Aidan rolled over and pounded a fist into the ground. Several United players turned away with pained expressions clouding their faces and began to arrange themselves behind the Kings penalty kicker. Aidan joined them, his shoulders slumping and head down.
“Don’t worry,” Josh said. “You just got beat. It happens.”
“Yeah, don’t worry,” Evan said, echoing Josh.
Surprised, Josh and Aidan turned toward their teammate.
“Don’t worry,” Evan repeated with a smirk. “Coach is going to have your butt on the bench so fast you won’t have time to worry.”
“Maybe,” Aidan snapped, “if the midfielders came back every once in a while to help on defense instead of looking to score all the time—”
“Hey, if you can’t keep up,” Evan said, “go back to rec league. You’ll be a big star there.”
“Shut up, both of you,” Josh said, leaning forward. “Get ready for the rebound.”
“There’s not going to be one,” Evan said, standing flat-footed in his red soccer shoes.
“How do you know?”
Evan pointed at the Kings player getting ready for the kick. “Do you know who that kid is?”
“No.”
“Jason Jones.”
“So?”
“So he’s played on the regional teams,” Evan explained. “Believe me, he’s not gonna miss.”
Sure enough, Jason Jones roofed a kick, high and hard, into the center of the net. Patrick, the United goalkeeper, didn’t have a chance.
Goal! The United was behind 2–0. Again.
Evan was right about something else too. Coach put in a sub for Aidan, who jogged off the field, plopped on the bench, and buried his head in a towel.
The United still trailed 2–0 at halftime. Coach Hodges was unusually quiet. Her lips were pressed together and her arms were folded tight across her chest as she watched the players gather around her, gulping water and chatting with each other.
When she spotted a couple of the boys standing off to the side, talking to their parents, she exploded. “Patrick! Kadir! Get over here. Now!”
The players huddled closer and gave Coach Hodges their full attention. She took a deep breath and began to talk. “Only one team in this game is playing like a team,” she said, holding up a single finger. She pointed down the touchline to the Kings. “They are.”
Josh could almost see the steam coming out of her ears. “I want quicker passes,” she continued. “One, two touches. That’s all. Then get the ball to somebody else.”
“Evan!” Coach barked. Evan looked up, surprised. “The center midfielder is supposed to distribute the ball, not dominate it. Stop dribbling. Give the ball up. You’ve got to trust your teammates.”
A small, secret smile swept across Josh’s face. Maybe now Mr. Red Shoes will pass me the ball.
Coach Hodges wiped the smile off Josh’s face by shouting his name. “Josh! Come back and help the midfielders. Don’t just stand around waiting for the ball.”
She paused and then said, “Now let’s play more like a team in the second half!”
Coach’s pep talk fired up the United for a while. Everyone—especially Evan—passed the ball better and created more chances in the second half. On one play, Evan laid off a quick touch to Josh, who blistered the ball toward the near post. But the Kings keeper dove and fisted the shot away.
Nursing a two-goal lead, the Kings played it safe. They dropped back their midfielders to help on defense. On offense, they played possession as much as they could. Time ticked away and the score never changed. Another 2–0 loss for the United.
After the game, Coach was more upbeat. “We played better in the second half,” she declared. “More like a team. I liked the passing. We’ll work on that more at next practice. See you Tuesday.”
Josh and Aidan walked slowly away from the pitch.
“At least we played better in the second half,” Josh said.
“What do you mean we?” Aidan said. “Coach parked me on the bench, remember?”
“Don’t worry. You’ll get more chances.”
“I don’t know. Coach isn’t afraid of cutting people. Maybe she’ll decide to cut me.”
“She wouldn’t cut anybody now. Not after the season has started.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” Aidan said. “Coach can be tough. We’ve lost seven games in a row. She’s gonna want to do something to shake things up.”
Josh swung his equipment bag over his shoulder. He walked toward his parents, who were waiting in the parking lot.
Aidan is right, he thought. Something is going to have to change. And soon!
Chapter 8
The bell sounded and two-dozen binders slammed shut. The students hurried toward the door. Ms. Littlewood, the social studies teacher, shouted above the noise, “Remember, get started on your projects this week. Don’t leave all your research to the last minute.”
“Ms. Littlewood,” Josh said as he passed her desk. “Is it okay for Aidan and me to do our research project on the World Cup? I know we can find a lot of cool stuff about the soccer tournament and its history.”
Ms. Littlewood looked up at Josh. She was shorter than some of her eighth grade students, but there was no doubt she was in charge. “I think the World Cup could be a great subject for your project,” she said. “But don’t just talk about who won or lost. I’d want to know how the tournament started—how it got to be such a big, worldwide event. And include something about the politics. Did you know they didn’t have a World Cup in 1942 and 1946?”
“Why not?”
“World War II.”
Josh started toward the door again. The project was sounding harder every time Ms. Littlewood opened her mouth.
“And don’t leave out the women’s tournaments,” Ms. Littlewood said. Josh could almost see the ideas popping out of her head. “You could write about the 1999 United States women’s team.”
“Were they any good?”
“They won it all,” Ms. Littlewood said, sounding a bit surprised at Josh’s question. “Oh, right. You’re too young to remember. They were a terrific team and I was a huge fan. If you have a couple of minutes, I’ll tell you what I know about them. Not all of it will fit with your project, but it’s a very interesting story.”
Josh figured he didn’t have a choice. And he sure didn’t want to make his teacher mad
at him. Plus, there was no soccer practice today.
Josh was very glad he stayed. While he listened to Ms. Littlewood talk about the 1999 women’s team, an idea started forming in his head. As soon as he stepped out of the classroom, he texted Aidan.
Meet me @ my house. I will b there in 20.
“What’s up?” Aidan asked as Josh opened the front door.
“I got a great idea!”
“For what?”
“For the United!” Josh said. “You won’t believe it!” He dashed up the stairs. Aidan followed him.
“Keep it down!” Mr. Bradshaw shouted from his office. “I’m trying to work.”
Josh flopped down on his unmade bed.
Aidan sat backward on the desk chair and grabbed a mini football from the cluttered desk. “So what’s the great idea?’ he asked, tossing the ball to Josh.
Josh flipped it back to him. “Okay, so I was talking to Ms. Littlewood after school about doing our research project on the World Cup—”
“What did she say?” Aidan lobbed the ball back to Josh.
“She’s cool with it. But that’s not what I want to tell you.”
“So what do you want to tell me?”
“I’m trying to get to it!” Josh threw the ball hard at his buddy.
“Ouch!” Aidan laughed. “Take it easy.”
“Listen. This is serious,” Josh said. “So Ms. Littlewood starts telling me all about the 1999 United States Women’s World Cup team. They were kind of like the United—”
“Are you saying we’re like a girls’ team?”
“Aidan, will you shut up! They were a totally great team. Ms. Littlewood knew all about them,” Josh said, the words tumbling out. “They beat China in the World Cup final on penalty kicks in front of 90,000 people at the Rose Bowl. They had Mia Hamm, this fantastic forward, who scored more international goals than anybody. Even the guys. They also had Kristine Lilly, who played in more international matches than anybody. Something like 350!”
“Really?” Aidan seemed impressed.
“Yeah, and their midfielder Michelle Akers was a great player, a complete monster,” Josh continued. “They were a huge deal. The whole country loved them. The team was on late night shows, TV ads, and magazine covers. They were even Sports Illustrated Sportswomen of the Year.”
“The whole team?”
Josh nodded. “The whole team.”
“So what’s your big idea?” Aidan asked. “Are you going to get Mia Hamm and Michelle what’s-her-name to play for the United?”
Josh laughed. “They would help.” Then he turned serious again. “Ms. Littlewood said the 1999 team used to do team-building exercises.”
“What are those?”
“They’re special activities—they don’t even have to be soccer stuff. They’re like weird kinds of games or puzzles that the team has to work on together. They help the players become more of a team. Ms. Littlewood said the 1999 team even had a coach for team building.”
“So where are you going with this?” Aidan asked.
“Don’t you get it? The United should do team-building exercises,” Josh declared. “Just like the 1999 team. I mean, the United are a bunch of All-Stars—”
“Yeah, and we’re still losing,” Aidan interrupted again.
“That’s my point,” Josh said. “We’re All-Stars from different teams—just like the 1999 team. We need to do something to become more of a real team.”
“Like the Flames used to be?”
“Yeah, just like the Flames,” Josh said, thinking back to all his years on the old team. “But the Flames were together so long, it was easy for them to be a team. The United have to do something more.”
“Okay, now what?”
“Okay, now we have to find some team-building exercises.” Josh pulled his laptop out from under a jacket on his bed and logged on. “Let’s see if we can find a website or something.” He typed the keywords into the search bar.
“Look. There’s a ton of stuff!” Josh turned the laptop so Aidan could see. Then he clicked on one of the sites. A list of team-building games and activities appeared on the screen.
“Yeah, but what are you gonna do?” Aidan asked. “Tell Coach how to run her practices?”
Josh grabbed the mini football again and rolled it around in his hands. “I don’t know. I definitely don’t want to talk to her in front of the whole team.”
Aidan nodded. “Yeah, Evan and Victor would probably think it was a stupid idea, especially if it came from you and me.”
The boys threw the ball back and forth, thinking. Finally, Aidan asked, “So how are we going to get coach to do this?”
“We could e-mail her with our suggestion,” Josh said.
“Sure, she’s always e-mailing us stuff about the team.”
Josh picked up his laptop. “Get out of the chair,” he ordered Aidan.
“Why?”
“We got to write something.” Josh slid off the bed and sat in the chair. He pushed aside some papers and a dirty sock from the desk and put down the laptop. Aidan stood behind him.
“We’ll say it’s from both of us, okay?” Josh said, glancing over his shoulder at Aidan.
“Yeah. Tell her we’re working on a school project.”
For the next ten minutes the boys worked together on the message to their coach. When they finished, they looked over what they had written.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Idea for the United
Coach Hodges,
Aidan and I are working on a research project for school on the World Cup. Our teacher told us about the US women’s team that won the World Cup in 1999. She said they used special team-building exercises to become a better team.
We are thinking we should try some of those team-building exercises on the United. It might be worth a try. After all, most of the guys on the team haven’t played together before this season and we’re not doing very well (0–7) so far.
It’s just an idea. We’re not telling you how to coach the team or anything. We thought it might help. We hope everything is okay with you.
Josh Bradshaw
Aidan McFarland
Aidan pointed at the screen. “Maybe we should attach one of those websites you found. You know, a site with a list of team-building exercises.”
“Good idea.” Josh tapped some keys and then looked at Aidan. “Should we send it?”
“Why not? Aidan said. “What have we got to lose? The worst thing that can happen is she’ll ignore it.”
“No,” Josh said. “The worst thing that can happen is that she tries it, and it doesn’t work. Then what?” Josh took a deep breath and hit the send button.
Aidan sat on the bed and the boys went back to tossing the football around. “Who we playing next?”
“The Magic.”
“Are they any—”
Josh’s computer made a clicking sound. “Hey, I’ve got mail,” he said. “I wonder if it’s from the coach.” Josh pulled up the e-mail and read the message aloud.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: RE: Idea for the United
Josh & Aidan—
Thanks for your e-mail. I’m glad you’re thinking about the team. I know all about the 1999 Women’s World Cup team. They were my idols when I was growing up. Let’s talk on Tuesday about what we can do. I’ll meet you two guys at the pitch twenty minutes before practice.
See you Tuesday.
Coach Hodges
Chapter 9
Josh and Aidan stretched a huge purple blanket out on the grass next to the United’s practice field.
Coach Hodges walked up behind the boys with her brown equipment bag over her shoulder. “Hey guys. What’s up? Are we having a picnic today?” she joked.
Aidan looked at Josh. “It’s your idea,” he said. “Go ahead, tell her.”
“Okay.” J
osh took a deep breath. “Remember what we said in our e-mail about the 1999 Women’s World Cup team using team-building exercises to get better?”
“I remember,” Coach said. “That team did a whole bunch of strange stuff. It must have worked; they were awesome.”
“Yeah. I figured we should try something like that,” Josh said. “We got a lot of good players—Evan, Victor, Demetrius, me, and Aidan. We just don’t play like a team.”
“We gotta do something,” Aidan added. “We’re 0–7.”
“I hear you,” Coach Hodges said. “So what’s with the purple blanket?”
“It’s an old one,” Josh said. “We use it for picnics. Purple’s my mom’s favorite color.”
“No, Josh. I mean how are you going to use it for team building?”
“Oh, right,” Josh said. “I got the idea from a website. Here’s how it goes: We all get on the blanket—all eighteen of us. We pretend it’s like a boat stranded in a river swarming with alligators and we have to get to shore.”
“Okay. Where’s the shore?” Coach asked.
Josh motioned to Aidan. “Give me your water bottle.” Josh counted off twenty steps and placed his water bottle and Aidan’s on the ground. “Let’s say this is the shore.”
“How are we gonna get the blanket all the way over there?” Aidan asked. “I mean, everybody will be standing on it.”
“Did the website explain how to do it?” Coach Hodges asked.
“Not really,” Josh said. He could feel his face turning red.
“That’s good,” Coach said. “Now all of you guys can figure it out together. That was the whole point of the exercises for the U.S. team—to practice working together.” She looked down at the blanket and then up at Josh. “We’ll try it today.”
Suddenly Josh got nervous. What if his big idea—the team-building exercises—was a big flop? What if everybody thought it was a big joke? Why did he bring the purple blanket?
After the team arrived, the United practice went the way it always did—with lots of drills: Passing. Dribbling. Corner kicks. Trapping. Defense. Crossing passes and heading.
Coach Hodges never mentioned the blanket. Josh had almost forgotten about it by the time Coach blew her whistle, ninety minutes into the two-hour practice. “Follow me,” she said. “We’re going to try something different.” She gathered the players around the blanket. “Josh, why don’t you explain this setup?”
