by David Starr
Abbas proved Coach T right ten minutes later.
“Abbas!” shouted Claude, drilling the ball up the right wing. Abbas took the ball and beat the Southlands defender. He sprinted to the net and blasted the ball along the ground to the goalie’s left. Grandview: 1, Southlands: 1.
Grandview’s nerves seemed to settle down after Abbas’s goal, and all of them played with more confidence.
Fifteen minutes into the second half, Michael made a great save and booted the ball to Claude. The midfielder defending Claude slipped and Claude was left uncovered.
“Go!” shouted Dylan as Claude raced down the centre of the field. Dylan watched as Claude easily dribbled around a defender and fired into the net from point blank range. It was a beautiful shot, high and to the right of the helpless goalie. Grandview: 2, Southlands: 1.
Grandview didn’t score again. But neither did Southlands. So when the fulltime whistle blew, the Eagles left the field as winners. Two more wins and they were in the finals.
“Good jobs, boys,” said Coach T, high-fiving his players.
“Who do we play tomorrow?” asked Jun.
“Porter Street at home,” he said. They lost to Brentford 2–1.”
“What about Regent Heights? Did they win?” Dylan asked. The whole team waited for Coach T to text his friend. It wasn’t just Dylan who had an interest in the outcome of that game.
Coach T nodded. “They won 5–0 over Burnaby Lake Elementary. But don’t worry about what other teams are doing. Your only concern right now should be the game against Porter tomorrow.”
The Porter Street Pirates put up a great fight. But they were no match for a Grandview Eagles team that played their best game of the season. Grandview won 6–2, with Abbas, Dylan, Jun and Abdul each scoring. The boys were tired but happy when they walked off the field.
One more win and they would make the district championships. But that win would not be easy. The game the next day would be a home rematch against Brentford, who had won their own game against Southlands with an impressive score of 4–0.
“Regent won as well, in case you were wondering,” said Coach T before the boys could ask. “They are in the North Zone final tomorrow.”
“I have a feeling that they’ll win,” Claude murmured to Dylan. “I told you we’d have another chance to play against them.”
“First we have to beat Brentford,” Dylan replied. “They’re good, remember? We got a little lucky last time. If it wasn’t for Michael making that crazy save we’d have lost for sure.”
“But he did, and we didn’t,” said Claude. “And there is no way we will lose tomorrow either. I just know it.”
No goals were scored in the first half of the game against Brentford. It was another tough, defensive game, with most of the play happening in the middle of the field. Abbas and Dylan kept trying to get free of the Brentford defence. But Brentford seemed to know exactly what they were trying to do. Their defenders matched Abbas and Dylan step for step.
“One goal is going to win this one, boys,” said Coach T as the ref blew the whistle to start the second half.
“How are we going to score?” Dylan asked. “They’re covering us really well. Abbas and I can’t get free.”
“Then somebody else is going to have to step up and score that goal, aren’t they?
“Huddle up!” Coach T called. “Mo, Junior and Claude, pay extra careful attention.”
The team huddled around their coach as he leaned down. When he had finished talking, Claude grinned and nodded.
The breakthrough came halfway into the second half. The Brentford defenders and midfielders kept focusing their efforts on defending against Dylan, Abbas and Claude. Those Grandview players were the scoring threat, and everyone knew it — which was just what Coach T was hoping for.
Michael made a save and kicked the ball to Claude. Claude raced as fast as he could downfield, just as he had a dozen times already in the game. Abbas and Dylan were both rushing down the right side of the field. Anticipating a pass to one of them, the Brentford defenders swarmed toward the three Grandview players. This time, however, Claude made a quick pass to Junior.
Junior was one of the fastest players on the team. He streaked down the undefended left side of the field with Carlos and Mo following in support. The Brentford players saw what was happening and tried to adjust. But before they could, Junior dropped the ball to Mo. Ten metres away from the goal, Mo thumped the ball at the net. It was a low, powerful shot that flew along the ground, skipping crazily along the lumpy field.
The Brentford goalie leapt toward the ball, stretching out his fingers. It was almost a brilliant save. But he missed it by a few centimetres. The ball rolled over the line and bounced to the back of the net. Grandview: 1, Brentford: 0.
Almost every Grandview student was watching the game, and their cheer was the loudest Dylan had ever heard. The boys mobbed Mo, as if he had scored the winning goal in the Olympics.
But the game wasn’t over yet. When play started up again, Brentford pushed hard, desperate for an equalizer.
“Blow the whistle! Blow the whistle!” chanted the boys as the half wound down. Surely the game was over! But if the ref heard them he wasn’t paying attention, and his watch was the only one that counted.
Dylan nearly fainted when a Brentford forward got off one last, desperate shot. It was from at least thirty metres out, but went high and straight, before dropping in the crease. Michael had guessed where the ball would go and positioned himself perfectly. He caught the ball on the bounce. The Grandview crowd erupted in cheers again while the players all held their breath, waiting for the whistle.
Michael kicked the ball. It went deep down the field right to Claude. The midfielder started toward the Brentford goal. But then they finally heard the long blast of the ref’s whistle. Game over. Final score: Grandview: 1, Brentford: 0.
The home crowd went wild, hooting and hollering and running out onto the field to hug the players. Grandview was going to the district championships!
But against who? When the celebrations ended and the handshakes were over, the team gathered around Coach T.
“A friend of mine is watching the North Zone final,” he said as he made a call. “Let’s see who we are going to play.” The call was quick. “Thanks. Call me back when you know.” said Coach T before he hung up.
“What’s up?” asked Jun. “Who are we going to play?”
“Regent Heights and Seacrest are tied 2–2. They’re going into extra time,” said Coach T. “They’ll play ten minutes and unless there’s a Golden Goal, they will go to penalty shots. My friend will text me the score when the game ends.”
“Golden Goal?” Abbas looked confused.
“It’s an old soccer phrase,” explained Coach T. “It means the extra time is sudden-death. The Golden Goal is the one scored in extra time that wins the game.”
“Golden Goal,” Abbas repeated. He smiled. “I like that very much.”
The next fifteen minutes seemed like the longest of Dylan’s life. Part of him wanted Regent to win, but mostly he was rooting for his new school. Tony, Emmanuel and the rest of Regent Heights had embarrassed Dylan and Grandview Community School at the start of the season. Dylan wanted his team to have the chance to prove his old friends wrong.
Finally Coach T’s phone chirped. “Game’s over in the North Zone,” he said. “No Golden Goal. It went to penalty shots.”
“Who won?” shouted the boys impatiently. All were desperate to find out who they would play on Friday.
“The Regent Heights Knights,” Coach T replied. “It seems Claude was right. You’re going to have another chance to show them what the Grandview Eagles are made of after all.”
18
The Trip to Regent Heights
The Grandview team drove in several cars heading north toward Regent Heights. Coach T took
some of the players, as did Ms. Jorgensen, Ms. Pucci and Mr. Briscoe. Some parents came along as well. Dylan’s mom left work early. There was no way she was missing the game. Mrs. Wassef and Claude’s sister Julie felt the same way. They rode to Regent with Ms. Bhullar, as nervous as their children.
By car, Regent Heights was only twenty minutes away from Grandview. But it might as well have been in another world. There were no apartment buildings, no halal grocery stores in Regent Heights. All they could see were huge houses with large backyards that looked over the inlet and the North Shore Mountains.
“You lived here?” said Claude in disbelief. “Each one of these houses is bigger than my whole apartment building!”
“I never noticed,” said Dylan truthfully. He’d lived most of his life in this neighbourhood and had always taken things for granted.
As they travelled north on Shoreview Drive a very familiar street sign appeared ahead. Pinewood Crescent. His old street. If Coach T turned left and drove for just thirty seconds, they would see his old house. It was too much for Dylan. He shut his eyes and waited until he was sure they had passed the street by.
“You okay, Dylan?” Coach T asked.
“Just a little nervous about the game,” he said. “I’ll be fine.”
As impressive as the houses were in Regent Heights, it was the school and soccer field that really blew the Grandview team away.
“Your old school is like a palace!” said Mo. “It looks more like a mall than a school!”
“And the field! It’s turf! Proper benches and lights! Do the Whitecaps play here, too?” asked Abdul, only half-joking. “What about Barcelona?”
“No,” said Dylan. “Just them.”
As they pulled into the parking lot, the boys saw the Regent Heights players in their blue and silver uniforms warming up on the field. They weren’t alone. Just as most of Grandview Community School’s students had come out to watch the Eagles play at home, it looked like every student at Regent Heights was standing on the sidelines. They excitedly waited for the game to begin.
“Let’s go, boys,” said Coach T when the rest of the cars pulled in. Fifteen minutes before game time. “Get warmed up.”
“These guys look pro,” said Carlos.
Dylan could hear the worry in his teammate’s voice. It was hard to argue with him. The Regent team’s uniforms were new and sharp-looking. All the players and even the coach had matching track pants, jackets and shoes.
“It takes more than fancy clothes to be champions, Carlos,” said Coach T. “You need dedication, talent and hard work. And you guys have more of those than any team I’ve ever seen.”
“You heard Coach T,” barked Claude. “We got this!” If he was intimidated by Regent Heights, he wasn’t showing it.
“Hey, Dylan,” sneered red-headed Regent player Liam, as Grandview took the field. “You and your loser friends are a long way from the farm, aren’t you? This is what a real soccer field looks like, remember?”
“Ignore him, Dylan,” said Michael. “He’s not worth it.”
“Ignore me all you want, losers,” Liam said. “But you’re gonna soon find out what real players can do on a real field instead of the farmyard you play on.” Tony and Emmanuel stood beside Liam laughing. Neither one said hello to Dylan. They didn’t give him the tiniest sign that they had ever been friends.
Like a wave crashing against the shore, all of Dylan’s old feelings came back to him. His cheeks flushed red and he clenched his fists as Claude led them in stretches and warm-up drills. Never in his life had he wanted to win a game so much.
Dylan was nearly overcome by memories. He’d played on this field a million times since he was little. He had played here with his team and his dad. Now, his dad was gone and his old friendships were over. A place that had once been as familiar as his bedroom now seemed very strange to him.
“Dylan?” said Claude. “You don’t look so good.”
“I’m fine,” Dylan replied. “It’s just a little weird being back here, that’s all.”
“Two minutes, coaches,” said the ref, checking his watch.
“Okay, Grandview, huddle up,” Coach T said. The boys gathered around him, buzzing with nerves and energy. “I don’t care if you win this game or not,” he said. “As far as I’m concerned you have nothing to prove to me, to them, to anyone. You have done more than any coach could have hoped for this season, and I’m proud of each and every one of you.”
“Nice speech, Coach T, but I wanna beat these guys bad!” said Junior. The whole team laughed and the tension slipped away.
“Then get out there and do it!” Coach T grinned. “Not for anyone but yourselves. Hands in,” he said as he began his familiar cheer. “Play hard, play safe, play fair. Eagles on three.”
“One! Two! Three! Eagles!” shouted the boys before they ran out onto the field.
“Visiting team, call it,” said the ref as he flipped the coin into the air.
“Heads,” said Claude, lining up against Tony, Regent’s captain.
“Heads it is,” said the ref, looking at the loonie lying in the turf. “Grandview kicks off.”
“Enjoy it,” said Tony to Claude. “The coin toss is the only thing you’re going to win today.”
19
The First Half
Five minutes into the game the Grandview Eagles were still nervous, but the Regent Heights Knights looked worried, too. It was clear from their trash talk that the Regent players had been expecting a quick goal and an easy game. Instead, they faced a hard-working Grandview team determined to win.
“Great work, defence!” encouraged Claude. William, Alvin and Carlos were like a solid wall, stopping the few Regent forwards who made their way through midfield. That included Tony, who couldn’t hide his frustration when he was stripped of the ball by a nifty tackle from Carlos.
It was Grandview who almost scored first. Junior won a loose ball and lobbed it to Claude who sprinted downfield. Abbas and Dylan were closely marked and couldn’t get free for a pass. So Claude took the shot himself. At the edge of the box he fired it toward Emmanuel. It would have landed in the back of the net except for the desperate lunge of a Regent Heights defender, who stuck out his foot and deflected it wide of the goal.
“Nice try, Claude,” said Junior, running to take the corner kick.
The play went back and forth for the rest of the first half. There were several more chances for both teams. But when the boys returned to the sidelines for halftime, the score was tied 0–0.
“Go, Eagles!” cheered Dylan’s mom from the sidelines, right where his dad used to watch. Dylan could almost see his dad standing beside her.
“Awesome half!” said Coach T, passing around the water bottles. “That was the best I’ve ever seen you play!”
“But we haven’t scored yet,” said Jake.
“Neither has Regent,” Coach T reminded him. “And they were expecting a blow-out. You have nothing to lose. Just play your game and the chances will come.”
One of those chances came less than five minutes into the second half. Jun passed the ball to Abbas who headed for the Regent goal. Dylan ran to the middle of the field. Moving steadily forward, Abbas fought off two Regent defenders. Dylan positioned himself at the top of the penalty box.
“Dylan!” shouted Abbas as he deked past a fullback. Abbas lobbed the ball right to where Dylan was standing. The pass was high and arcing. Dylan wasn’t the best Grandview player when it came to headers, but this was a big, juicy chance to score with one.
Closer and closer the ball came. But just before Dylan was about to leap into the air, a sharp, stabbing pain erupted in his leg. He fell to the ground in agony, his leg aching, the wind knocked out of his lungs.
“No way! That’s not a foul!” shouted Liam. “He fell down! I didn’t touch him!”
But the referee blew the
whistle, raised a yellow card and pointed to the penalty spot. Coach Alvarez was shouting at the ref, as were a dozen or so Regent Heights parents. They all seemed to agree that Liam had done nothing wrong. They were howling and screeching on the sidelines, calling the ref all sorts of names.
“They aren’t very sportsmanlike,” said Junior, watching the Regent Heights parents scream and shout.
“You don’t know the half of it,” said Dylan. The behaviour wasn’t anything new to him. He knew that many of the parents acted like this at games. Pretty much the only Regent Heights parent who never did was his dad. Dylan had never much liked that behaviour when he played for Regent Heights. But he’d never seen how ugly it really was until he’d changed schools.
The referee wasn’t buying it. He had seen Liam rake his shoe on the back of Dylan’s leg hard enough to cause a large, rapidly bruising mark. “You do that again, number 16 and I’ll send you off,” the ref said. “And you’d better control yourself and your parents, coach,” he warned Coach Alvarez. “Or I’ll give your team a red card right now and you’ll finish the game down one player.”
Coach T had rushed over to where Dylan had fallen. “Are you okay? Or should Abbas or Claude take the shot?” he asked. He checked Dylan’s leg and helped him to his feet.
“I got this,” Dylan said, clenching his teeth. He had just won a penalty shot! No way anybody was taking this kick but him. This was the chance Dylan had been waiting for.
Then he remembered what happened in the last game against Regent Heights.
“Maybe Abbas should take it, after all,” Dylan said.
“Good call, Dylan,” Coach T said. “You heard him, Abbas. You want to shoot?”
The smile on Abbas’s face answered the question. Dylan watched as the referee placed the ball on the penalty spot. All the players but Grandview striker Abbas and Regent goalie Emmanuel cleared the box.
Dylan held his breath as Abbas lined up behind the ball. Abbas was a great shot. He’s taken a million penalty kicks in practice and never missed, thought Dylan.
