Go for the Goal! (2 page)

J
osh could smell dinner cooking when he walked into the house after another United practice. His cleats clattered against the tile floor as he tossed his equipment bag near the back door.

“Josh, take off those shoes.” Mr. Bradshaw was stirring a simmering pot on the stove. “Hey, how was practice today?”

“Okay.”

“It was hot as blazes again out there,” Mrs. Bradshaw complained as she followed Josh into kitchen. “I don’t know how the kids stand it for two hours.”

“It’s tough, Mom, but Coach always gives us plenty of water breaks.” Josh looked into the pot. “What’s for dinner?”

“Chili. It’ll be done in ten minutes.”

“Traffic was awful,” Mrs. Bradshaw said. “I wish the practices were closer.” She looked over at Josh. “Is there anyone we can carpool with? It took forever again today.”

“Not really. I still don’t know anybody on the team that well. Except Aidan.”

“Really?” his father said. He tossed a bag of tortilla chips on the table. “How many practices have you had?”

“Today was our fifth.” He shrugged and started eating the chips. “I don’t know, the guys on the team just aren’t that friendly. Anyway, I don’t think any of them live nearby. Plus we got two new kids today.”

“Hey, Josh, give me some of those,” his mother said, motioning for the bag.

“Two new kids? Don’t you have a full squad?” his father asked.

“Coach cut two kids,” Josh said.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know why you have to play for this team,” his mother said, taking a handful of chips and handing the bag back to Josh. “It
seems to me the Flames were fine. And the practices were a lot closer.”

“The United are much better than those guys. They’re faster—got better skills. I have to play much harder to keep up. I’m getting a lot better already,” Josh said.

“The Flames were a good team,” Mrs. Bradshaw insisted. “You won almost all your games.”

“That was just a rec league.”

“And you’ve known some of those kids on the Flames, like Chris and Nick, since kindergarten,” she reminded him.

“Yeah, but—”

“I think that’s why you were so good,” Mrs. Bradshaw said. “You knew each other. You hung out together after school.”

“Being on the United will help Josh when he gets to high school,” Mr. Bradshaw said. “If he keeps working hard, maybe he’ll play in college.”

Josh and his father shared a smile. Josh had always dreamed about playing soccer in college. His bedroom wall was plastered with posters and pennants from some of the best
college soccer teams—Maryland, North Carolina, UCLA, and Indiana.

“How’s Coach Hodges?” Mr. Bradshaw asked.

Josh sensed his father was trying to convince his mother that the United was a better team. “She’s really good,” he said. “She played four years at Notre Dame. She’s much better than the Flames coach.”

“Oh, I liked Mr. Daniel. He’s a nice guy,” his mother said as she reached out for the bag of chips again. Josh grabbed a few before handing it over.

“Will you guys stop eating!” Mr. Bradshaw said. “The chili’s almost ready.”

This time Josh traded smiles with his mother. Then he picked up the conversation again. “Mr. Daniel was a real nice guy. He just didn’t know much about soccer. He’s more of a baseball guy.”

Mr. Bradshaw turned down the stove and looked at Josh. “Do you think Coach will start you at forward?”

Josh thought back on the five United practices. Coach seemed to be playing everyone
an equal amount of time, as if she was still trying to find out who the best players were. Josh hoped he had shown Coach Hodges he was good enough to start. It would be so cool to tell the kids at school—especially his old Flames teammates—that he was starting for the United. “I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe. I think I’ll get plenty of playing time, but I don’t know about starting.”

“How about Aidan?” his mother asked. “How’s he doing?”

“About the same as me. I think he’ll play a lot on defense.”

“At least you guys didn’t get cut,” Mr. Bradshaw said.

“Did she really cut two kids?” Josh’s mother asked, shaking her head.

“Yeah, really, Mom. You don’t understand. This is serious soccer.”

“Mr. Daniel would never have cut anyone.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket and started checking her e-mails.

“Coach Hodges isn’t a parent,” Josh explained. “She’s a real coach.”

“You better get out of your sweaty soccer
stuff and wash up,” Josh’s father said. “We’re going to eat soon. Two-minute warning.” He looked over at his wife. “Any life-changing messages?” he asked with a smile.

“There’s an e-mail from Coach Hodges.”

“What’s it say?” Josh asked. Changing his clothes could wait.

Josh’s mother looked at the screen. “It looks like you have a tournament this weekend, Saturday and Sunday.”

“Awesome! Coach said we were going to be in a couple tournaments before the season started.”

“All right!” his father said, grabbing a fistful of air. “The United are going to take the pitch.”

“It’s in Johnstown,” Mrs. Bradshaw said.

“Cool!” Josh exclaimed.

“Johnstown?” Mr. Bradshaw’s arm fell to his side. “But that’s a hundred miles away.”

“Actually, it’s 127 miles. I just checked,” she said coolly. “The team will be playing at Johnstown Soccerplex. Coach Hodges booked rooms at a nearby hotel.”

“Really?”

Mrs. Bradshaw handed her phone to Mr. Bradshaw.

“It looks like the tournament will take up the whole weekend,” he said.

“We’re in a real tournament!” Josh exclaimed. “I can’t wait to text Aidan.”

Mrs. Bradshaw turned to her husband and smiled. “I’m sure you and the United will have a good time in Johnstown this weekend.”

O
h, say
does that star-spangled banner yet waaa-aaave … o’er the land of the freeeeeee … and the home of the …

Happy cheers drowned out the last word of the anthem. Eight teams in shiny uniforms stood proudly on the perfectly lined, sun-drenched field. Josh was standing with the United and couldn’t believe he was part of all this excitement. It was never like this with the Flames.

The voice on the public address system boomed: “Let the twenty-fourth Annual Johnstown Labor Day Soccer Invitational begin!”

Some of the teams left with their fans to play on other fields. The United’s first game was there in the main stadium. They were about to face the Phantoms.

“Come on, United!” Coach Hodges called. “Let’s huddle up.”

This is going to be great,
Josh thought. He looked around the huddle and once again tried to match the faces with names. “What’s the name of the big guy who plays defense?” Josh whispered to Aidan.

“Demetrius.”

Coach Hodges began calling out the names of the starting lineup. “Aidan and Demetrius on the back line. Evan, you’re at center midfield.”

Josh leaned into the circle, hoping to hear his name.

“At forwards, Josh and Victor.”

Josh and Aidan traded a quick nod. Yes! They were starting for the United!

Now I’m going to show them—Evan, Victor, everybody—that I’m as good as they are,
Josh thought.

“Hands in,” Coach Hodges ordered. The
team crowded closer and piled their hands on top of each other. “The Phantoms are good,” Coach warned. “We’re going to have to play hard and play smart. Hustle on three. “One … two … three …”

“Hustle!” the players shouted together.

The United hustled but it didn’t help. Their passes were a little off, their offensive attack a step too slow. Evan threaded a pass to Josh as he rushed to the Phantoms goal, but the ball bounced off Josh’s heel and he lost control. After that, Evan just passed to his buddy Victor, the other United forward—even when Josh was open.

Later, the United backline fell apart. Both Aidan and Demetrius moved to cover the same player. That left a Phantom forward wide open. In an instant, his team got him the ball and he blasted it into the United net.

Goal! The United was behind 1–0.

“C’mon, guys,” Evan barked. “Don’t bunch up. Play your position.”

Aidan and Demetrius glared at each other.

“That was your guy!” Demetrius shouted.

“I thought you had him!” Aidan shouted back.

“Come on, guys, forget it,” Josh said, clapping his hands. “Let’s get it back.”

The United couldn’t get it back. They spent the rest of the game chasing the ball and trying to get their offense in gear. The Phantoms added another goal late in the second half to finish the scoring … and the United.

The United lost, 2–0.

Coach Hodges didn’t say much after the game. She just shook her head. “You guys play like you’ve never seen each other before. This is a
team
sport. You better start getting your act together or get used to losing!”

Josh knew Coach Hodges was right, but that didn’t make it easy to hear.

The players quickly gathered their stuff and went to check the large board showing the scores of the first games. Josh got there first.

“Who do we play in the second round?” Aidan asked.

“The Vipers,” Josh answered. “We’re in the losers bracket.”

“Maybe they’ll be easier to beat.”

“I guess we’ll find out.”

But the second game was almost an exact replay of the first. The United players weren’t clicking. There was no teamwork. No passing. No communication.

The United lost 2–0. Again.

After the game, Coach Hodges tried to keep the team’s spirits up. “Good hustle. But we have to tighten up the defense and play more like a team.”

Josh looked at the team’s tired, discouraged faces. The coach wasn’t lifting their spirits. Or Josh’s either.

“Let’s all meet in the lobby of the hotel,” Coach Hodges suggested, “and go to dinner together as a team.”

“Sorry,” someone said. “We can’t make it.”

Other parents at the edge of the team circle chimed in. Everybody, it seemed, had other plans.

“We have some friends in the area. We’re going to eat with them.”

“What time is the game tomorrow?”

Coach Hodges threw up her hands. “All right, then. Everybody is on his own for dinner tonight,” she said. “Just make sure you’re in bed by ten o’clock. We have an early game tomorrow.”

The United players and parents scattered. Josh and Aidan walked together toward Josh’s father.

“Who are we playing tomorrow?” Aidan asked.

“I think we play the Thunder,” Josh said.

“Are they any good?”

“Probably not,” Josh said. “They’re in the super-losers bracket—just like us.”

Y
ou look tired,” Josh said to Aidan. The two boys were sitting in the hotel’s breakfast room, eating cereal.

“I didn’t sleep great last night,” Aidan admitted.

“Why not?”

“It was so noisy. I don’t know how you slept through it,” Aidan said. “The bell on the elevator door kept going off. And somebody was getting ice from the ice machine every ten minutes. He must have been building an igloo in his room or something.”

The boys laughed. Mr. Bradshaw sat down with his plate piled high. “Nothing I like better than a big country breakfast,” he declared. “You boys ready to play?”

“Yeah.”

“I guess so.”

Mr. Bradshaw looked around the breakfast room. “Where’s the rest of the team?” he asked. “I’ve hardly seen anyone.”

Josh shrugged. “I don’t know. We’re pretty early. I guess we’ll see them at the field.”

The soccer pitch was quiet as the teams warmed up in the early morning chill. The dew was still on the grass, sparkling in the sunlight. The players’ parents sat scattered in the stands, sipping coffee from thermoses.

“All right, let’s play hard!” Coach Hodges shouted, clapping her hands together. “Same starting lineup as yesterday. Hustle on three.”

Josh noticed that the team huddle was not as tight as the day before. And the shout of “One … two … three … hustle!” wasn’t as loud.

Josh and Aidan walked onto the pitch, side by side. “It looks like you’re not the only guy who had trouble sleeping last night,” Josh said.

Sure enough, both teams were sluggish.
The action stayed stuck in the middle, with neither team managing a single shot on goal.

Late in the first half, Evan intercepted a crossing pass and dribbled upfield. When two Thunder players charged him, he tried to slip a quick pass to Josh. But the ball hit Josh’s foot at a bad angle and sailed out of bounds.

“Oh, no!” Josh shouted.

The goalkeeper boomed a long punt back toward the United goal. Josh ran back to get in the action.
Man, nothing is working today,
he thought.

The score was tied 0–0 at halftime. The sun was rising and the morning warming. People kept coming in, filling up the stands. Many of them had come early to watch the next game.

The bigger crowd seemed to wake up the Thunder. They pounced on a turnover at midfield and sailed a crossing pass by the confused United defense. An alert Thunder forward knocked it in.

Goal! The United trailed, 1–0.

A few minutes later, the Thunder outhustled the United for another goal. The United was behind 2–0. Again.

Coach Hodges put in some reserves.

Josh and Aidan stood on the sidelines with their arms folded across their chests. “Looks like we’re going to lose another one,” Aidan said.

“I don’t know why.” Josh dug his right cleat into the dirt. “We’ve got a lot of good players. Patrick West is a terrific goalkeeper. Victor is super fast and Mario can handle the ball.” Josh lowered his voice. “I don’t like Evan, but he can really play.”

“Maybe we should all start wearing red shoes,” Aidan said.

Josh didn’t laugh. “We definitely need to do something.”

Just then Coach Hodges called out, “Josh, Aidan, go in for Dylan and Thomas.”

Josh raced back onto the pitch, eager to do something—anything—to get the United going.

Right away, Aidan, playing right fullback, stole the ball. He smartly dribbled away
from the United goal and spotted Josh on the right wing. Instantly, the two old friends sensed the same play.

Josh spun and sprinted upfield. Aidan blasted a long pass up the right side. The Thunder scrambled after it, but Josh used his speed to outrun the defense and get the ball.

The Thunder goalkeeper jumped out to cut down Josh’s angle to the goal. As Josh dribbled closer, he could sense the keeper hanging back, waiting for Josh to send a centering pass across the middle.

Josh knew that a centering pass to Evan or Victor was the correct play, but with the Thunder closing in, he decided to take a chance.
It’s worth a try,
he thought.

He tapped the ball with his left foot, then blasted it with his right. The ball sizzled by the surprised goalkeeper, grazing the post before skipping into net.

Goal! The score was 2–1. Josh jumped up with a high fist-punch. His teammates swarmed him.

“Way to go, Josh!”

“We needed that!

“We’re on a roll now!”

But the United were not on a roll.

The Thunder tightened their defense. There were no more goals. Not even any more shots on goal.

The United lost 2–1.

“We looked a little better this game. Way to go!” Coach Hodges shouted as the United players gathered their equipment and water bottles and the parents came down from the stands. “Remember, practice on Tuesday. We’ve got a lot to work on. Good goal, Josh. I’ll e-mail everyone the information about next week’s tournament.”

“Where is it?”

“Perryville.”

“Perryville?” Josh’s father muttered. “That’s even farther away.”

In no time the team had disappeared into the parking lot and behind slamming car doors. Josh and Aidan lingered on the edge of the field. The sun was overhead and felt warm on Josh’s back. The second game of the day was about to begin.

“Do you guys want to watch some of the next game?” Josh’s dad asked.

Josh looked across the field, remembered the three United games—the three losses—and said, “No, let’s get out of here. Maybe we’ll do better next week.”