Lacrosse

4- Off Days and Strange Ways

Kendall

"Kendall! What is so hard about getting the ball past the goalie?" Coach Amanda screams at me towards the end of our Thursday night practice.

We're doing a shooting drill, and since I play attack, shooting is my specialty.

But not tonight.

I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm missing shots that I haven't missed since the beginning of my Freshman year. I'm dropping the ball while switching from my left hand to my right, even though I became almost completely ambidextrous for lacrosse last year.

My head is just not in the game and I think it's because of this damn scrimmage we're having on Saturday. I can't get my mind off of it. I understand the coaches' reasoning behind it, but at the same time I don't. Something horrible is going to happen. It always does when we play Pittsburgh Hills, but this time, I have a feeling in the bottom of my stomach that it's going to be really bad. There are always fist fights, verbal wars, smashed windshields, keyed doors, and slashed tired, but I just have this feeling that it's going to be worse than that.

I shake my head, trying to get my thoughts of the scrimmage out and thoughts of right here, right now in. If I can just focus on this drill, if I can just make it through the last five minutes, I can get some sleep to make up for my sleepless night.

My team's goalie Dani throws me the ball from my previous shot, which landed directly in the pocket of her large stick. I catch the ball with ease, bringing my hopes up for this last shot I'm going to take for the night. I need to make it, I have to make it.

I take my starting position at the top of the twelve meter arc and begin running full speed ahead at the goal. I switch my stick into my right hand and fire at the net with all my might.

Maybe a little too much might?

The little yellow ball goes soaring over the top of the metal goal and continues through the air, only stopping when it hits the fence that separates the lacrosse fields from the main building of the school.

"You've got to be kidding me," Amanda groans just loud enough for me to hear. "Go take your gear off and get a quick drink before going to stretch."

I slump over to the bench, feeling defeated and, quite frankly, embarrassed by my performance at tonight's practice. I shove my stick into my STX over the shoulder bag and slide my goggles into the side pocket, putting my flavored mouth piece in it's case with it. I take a quick gulp of my Gatorade and hustle to the forming circle in the middle of the field.

After finishing up our cool-down stretches, I gather my stuff and wait for Josh, who is talking to the coaches.

"Kendall!" he yells. "Come over here! Coach needs to talk to us!"

A nervous lump forms in my throat as I begin the seemingly endless journey to where they are standing. When I finally get there, Josh slings his arm over my shoulder and pulls me close to him.

"You realize that you didn't make one shot tonight, right?" Coach Amanda asks.

"Yes. I don't know what's going on. Usually I make everything. This isn't like me," I reply.

"It isn't like you at all," she adds. "But Josh, on the other hand, has been making all of his shots."

"So?" Josh inquires.

"So you're going to help your girlfriend out. I'm leaving the key to the fence with you so you can lock it once you leave. Stay as long as you need to. Do whatever it takes to get her to score. I don't care if it takes you all night. Without her," Amanda explains, "we have no chance of beating Pittsburgh Hills."

I nod my head and look up at Josh, who gives me a small smile. Amanda walks away and Coach Scott starts to follow her, but stops to whisper something in Josh's ear. Josh chuckles and gives him a thumbs up before Scott walks away too.

"What did he tell you?" I question.

"Oh nothing. He just gave me a brilliant idea that I'm thinking will motivate you," Josh answers slyly. "Go get your stick. I want to get out of here so I can eat."

I run back to the bench, pull my stick out from it's bag, and run back over to Josh, who is now standing near one of the goals.

"So what is your master plan that Coach Scott helped you come up with?" I ask. At this point, everyone from our teams have left, leaving us alone on the field.

"To get you to focus more on scoring rather than just shooting, you get a kiss every time you make a shot," he states.

"What happens when I miss?"

"This part is my own little add-on," he says, grinning wildly.

"I don't think I want to know," I mutter.

"Since we all know you're a prude," Josh begins before I cut him off sharply.

"I. Am. Not. A. Prude!" I exclaim, saying each word slowly to ensure that he hears me.

"Whatever you say," he continues. "Your punishment for missing is you have to take one piece of clothing off until you get to just your underwear and bra."

"That is so not fair!" I shout. "Whether I miss or I make it, you get a reward!"

"Works for me," he says with a smile. "Now get shooting!"

"Fine but whenever I make a shot, you have to take a piece of your clothes off until you're just in your boxers," I growl.