Match

61: Final Game

Jonah<3:

Good luck to you too!! I'll be cheering you on in spirit <3

His heart pumps fast as he trots onto the field. The soggy grass sinks every time he takes a step. Overhead the sky is clear, raining down sunlight that should eventually bake the earth below. Up ahead, Tigers huddle together. The first person to notice Cole and wave is his friend Ashton. As he moves closer, someone suddenly launches out of the crowd.

"Cole!"

He has no time to move away as the teammate goes in and gives him a noogie. At first he thinks it's Nathan, but instead, it's Joel.

"Joel?" He says through winces from how hard Joel is digging his knuckle into his cranium. "You're... you're here?"

"Yeah! Heard you were missing me?"

"Hey! Please, stop, I'm getting a headache!"

Joel moves off him. "Oh sorry."

Cole can hear laughter nearby, coming from some of the teammates. Joel swivels around, his calm demeanour flaring up.

"What the hell's so funny?!"

"Aren't you gonna tell him why you've been absent?" Graham snorts.

The burning anger on his face cools down once he says that. "Oh, yeah," he turns his attention from the others' chatter back to Cole. "I was battling a flu and fever."

Cole rubs his head, nodding. "Yeah, someone said you were uh, sick."

He pounds his chest a couple times. "I'm all good to go now for tonight's game!"

"Hey!"

"Yo they're here!"

Several teammates point and wave to someone behind them. Both turn to see what the commotion is about. To their surprise, it's Brett helping Kacey onto the field, who's still in crutches.

———————————

Jonah stands on the left side of the centre line. To his right is the other forward, Sebastian. He kicks the tip of his cleat on the ground while waiting for the other team to get in their formation, too. His eyes lock onto a player; saturated orange jersey that marks the team name, Team Flare. God am I glad the Hawks didn't make it to the final three, he thinks.

"Jone."

He's alerted to Liam from behind. Liam gives the signal by nodding his chin towards a certain direction, to which he nods. I gotta deke out some of these guys while being the distraction. He recognizes a couple players from one of the teams last year, Team Pine. Those two were like the bulldozers on the team. This is gonna be an interesting challenge. Thunder gets the ball first. To his left is a crowd gradually getting bigger.

The referee lifts his hand up. Like a marathoner awaiting the starting pistol, he gets in his stance.

Fweeeeet!

Down goes the ball. Ahead goes Sebastian. Afar goes Jonah and Liam. The crowd erupts in cheers. A player approaches Sebastian, but he manages to pass by and move forward. Jonah sees an opening for the fake-out.

"Seb! Here!"

He waves his hands about to get everybody's attention. More players start approaching him to block. Sebastian dribbles up more, sometimes pretending to pass to Jonah. Then he makes the pass to Liam. Yes! It's working! He takes a shot, but a player manages to head-butt it in midair. The ball launches to the right and out of bounds.

For the most part, Jonah feels satisfied with the play. The crowd also agrees as they cheer and whistle. But something is starting to linger as a warning.

Fweeeeet!

The whistle goes off again. Ryder throws the ball back in and the game resumes. Players bunch together digging to regain the ball, with Liam getting the advantage and sneaking it out of the mob.

Shit, shit, shit! Jonah makes a run for it as backup. It's make it or break it. A player slide-tackles Liam, to which he bounces the ball over. The net is mere metres away now.

"Take the shot!"

But it's too late. Another player steals the ball out of Liam's grasp when he's not looking. Edging closer to the centre circle. The warning morphs into blares for Jonah. But he ignores it, pressing on. Heart pounding, wind blowing, sweat making the jersey stick to his back. Ryder and Jason go after it as well. The player maneuvers his way around. Jonah's time is running out. He breaks into a full-on sprint to catch up. He bunts the ball with the tip of his cleat, making the ball teeter out of the player's clutch and into a more open space.

He perseveres, taking the ball, carrying it back to the net.

"Go Jone! Go!"

He's got a clear path. More and more he carries the ball, scraping by the sideline. The referee keeps a close watch while holding the whistle. Then suddenly, his foot tweaks, and the ball takes a sharp left. Out of bounds. The whistle goes off.

"What the?"

Jonah stops flat, watching the ball roll past the crowd and onto the other vacant field. He catches his breath, fully aware of the alarm bells going off inside him.

Why? Why so early in the game?

He can't take the ache anymore. Up goes his hand.

"John?"

The coach looks over.

"I need a sub off."