Fitting In

Chapter 18 - Ball or Man

The first half of practice seemed to drag by. We were working on the correct technique for shooting, so it was just us repeatedly shooting into the net. There are so many components, and it's difficult to remember them all, let alone correctly do them.

Internally I repeated the steps to myself as I swung. Running start, plant left foot a left of the ball a few inches and pointing where you want to go. Right leg back as far as you can, make sure to swing with your hips and your leg, not your knee. Right foot pointed downward, locked, approach at an angle. Tighten your abs, lean forward a bit, and after glancing up at the goalie focus on the ball. Hit with the laces, swing all the way through, and let momentum carry you. Land on your right foot, and...darn it! I forgot to put my left had out for balance.

I waited for everyone else to finish, then I grabbed my ball from the back of the net. We did that for a whole hour in the hopes that during the game it would be natural.

It was worth it though when coach announced what we were doing afterwards. Scrimmaging.

It was 8 versus 8. Red pennies versus blue pennies. Friends and teammates versus friends and teammates. It's the soccer equivalent to all out war.

Pulling the blue penny over my head, I stifled a gag.

"Two seasons ago," Conner said, putting his red penny on.

"What?"

"That's the last time coach washed these. Two seasons ago."

"You're kidding," I said glancing down.

"Nope. Coach says it's too much work. We're just going to get them all sweaty again anyways."

"That's disgusting. I've seen you boys sweat."

He shrugged and ran off to the other side of the field. I fought the urge to dry heave.

"Taylor, can you play defense?" Liam asked.

"Um...if you need me to," I said. I didn't want to be a brat, but defense wasn't exactly in my comfort zone.

He walked over to me and whispered, "Hey, sorry, but I need you on Conner. Parker and Freddie are on the other team, and I need someone who can guard a player. I just need you to make sure he doesn't touch the ball"

"Okay."

"Good," he said, running to the goal.

All of us players lined up in our formations, and glanced at the coach. One nod, and the game had begun. They had possession first, and the first pass was right to Conner. I knew this type of gameplay. Pass it to the amazing forward, and let him dance around with the ball until they get a shot.

He had to go through three people before he finally reached me. All it took was a few cuts, and he made them all look silly. I made sure to give him some room and to watch his posture to make sure I didn't end up in the same boat. As soon as he tried to dribble past me, I stuck out my foot and kicked the ball hard.

"Our ball," Conner called after watching the ball cross the white sideline.

For the next ten minutes, Conner never touched the ball. I completely shut him down. If the ball came anywhere near us, I kicked it back to where it came from. If he went left, I went left. If he started sprinting, I was right behind him. He ran all over, but I stuck with him.

Finally, he looked at me and said, "You want to just hold my hand? You're doing just about everything else."

"That would make guarding you easier."

He frowned at me. I could tell he was irritated. I would be too, if I was a forward and I never touched the ball.

"You're really annoying you know that?" He asked while making another run.

"I try," I say panting as I kept pace with him, "Do you have to run so much?"

"You don't have to follow," He said cutting back in the other direction towards open space. I groaned and sprinted after him.

The ball came close to us again and I immediately booted it right back up to our forwards.

"This is stupid," Conner said.

"You're stupid."

"If I agree will you go guard someone else?"

"No. This seems to be working out pretty well for my team."

"You haven't scored."

"Neither have you."

"Yeah, because this dumb midfielder won't get off my back and..." he mumbled as he made yet another run.

"Stop running," I complained, "I'm dying."

"It's almost like that's the point." He ran down the field again just to run back up. I was starting to fall behind, and he knew it.

He wasn't the only person who noticed. After stopping Gabes breakaway, Freddie pummeled the ball all the way up the field. Right to Conner. He had the audacity to wink at me before dribbling towards the goal. I kicked it into high gear. Planning to cut him off before he reached his shooting range, I angled my run closer to the goal. We were both running full speed at this point. He may have been faster than me, but there was no way I was failing at my one job.

As soon as I was close enough I shoulder charged him. He kept his balance and pushed back. Scrambling for the advantage, I tried my best to get the ball away from his feet. We were almost to the box. I had to do something.

My old coach always told our defense the same thing every game. He told them that no matter what, nobody gets past you. You either get the ball out, or you take the man out. One could get past you. Both couldn't. That was the only thing racing through my mind. The ball doesn't get past you, but if it does...the forward doesn't.

He was smiling. He knew there was no way I could get the ball away from him. So I did the only thing I could. I took my cleat and hooked his legs.

He went down. Hard.

After rolling a couple steps he wiped the mud off of his face and smiled.

"Should have done that sooner. I can still make it from here."

"We'll see," I said. He wasn't in the box yet, so it wasn't a PK.

We set up a wall. The Liam positioned himself and everyone else exactly where he needed us. The angle to the goal was atrocious. There was almost no way that the ball was going in.

But none of that mattered.

It was a crazy, impossible, unlikely shot. It didn't matter. It still went in.

Because Conner was just that good. This was his game, and we were all just playing it.