Lacrosse Firestorm Read online

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2008 by Matt Christopher Royalties, Inc.

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Little, Brown and Company

  Hachette Book Group

  237 Park Avenue

  New York, NY 10017

  Visit our website at www.HachetteBookGroup.com

  www.twitter.com/littlebrown

  First eBook Edition: December 2009

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious.

  Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  ISBN: 978-0-316-09395-8

  Contents

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Matt Christopher®

  THE #1 SPORTS SERIES FOR KIDS: MATT CHRISTOPHER®

  1

  What’s with you, Wallis? Haven’t you ever held a lacrosse stick before?”

  Garry Wallis shot an angry look at Michael Donofrio. He knew he should be used to his teammate’s big mouth; after all, Michael was always ridiculing someone on the Rockets.

  Usually, however, that someone was Garry’s brother, Todd. Todd had never played lacrosse until last spring. Then, he only joined the Rockets to get some exercise and lose weight. At first, he was terrible, but thanks to some help from the coach’s son, Jeff Hasbrouck, he began to improve.

  But that didn’t stop Michael from bullying him. He thought Todd was dragging the team down — “dead weight,” Michael called him, a jab at Todd’s size as well as his lack of skill — and he all but ordered Garry to force his brother to quit. When Garry refused, Michael took matters into his own hands and slashed the webbing of Todd’s stick before a game!

  That’s when Garry decided it was time to put Michael in his place. He knew Michael had set his sights on winning the league’s top scorer award; he wanted to make sure Michael didn’t get it. Since plenty of other Rockets were sick of Michael’s attitude too, they helped Garry with his “don’t pass to Michael” plan.

  Michael was furious when he realized that no one was feeding him the ball. His anger grew when, at the season’s end, he wasn’t the league’s top scorer.

  “I know you’re behind it,” he had snarled at Garry after the last game. “And I’ll make you pay!”

  After that, Garry had avoided Michael as best he could. Unfortunately, for the next week, he and Michael would be together day and night.

  The Rockets were taking part in a lacrosse tournament held at an overnight camp. And it was clear that Michael planned to take every opportunity to make Garry’s life miserable.

  Like now.

  The Rockets were playing the Cougars in the first round of the two-game elimination tournament. It was the middle of the third quarter and the Cougars led, 9–7. The Rockets needed to pull ahead; if they lost this game, and then one more, they would be watching the rest of the tourney from the sidelines.

  Garry was usually one of the Rockets’ better players. But right now, he was very tired — and not just from the exertion of the game. He hadn’t slept well the night before.

  Garry was sharing a four-bunk cabin with Todd, Jeff, and another boy named Conor. Conor was a fun kid and a decent player, but he had one annoying trait: he snored all night long!

  Todd and Jeff weren’t bothered by the noise because their bunk beds were on the other side of the cabin. Garry, however, was right above Conor and for the past two nights he’d heard every last snort, nose whistle, wheeze, and rumble.

  “It’s like someone’s turning a chain saw on and off next to my ear,” Garry whispered to Todd and Jeff at breakfast that morning. “I can’t believe you guys don’t hear it!”

  “So jam something in your ears at night,” Todd suggested.

  “Like what, my fingers?”

  “No, like earplugs,” Todd replied. “I’ll bet the health center has some.”

  Garry nodded thoughtfully. “That’s not a bad idea, actually. And if they don’t, I’ll wad up some toilet paper and stick that in!”

  “Just be sure it’s nice new toilet paper!” Jeff joked.

  Garry got the earplugs later that morning. He stuck them in his sweatshirt pocket with a silent prayer that they’d help him sleep better — and hopefully, wake up rested and back to his usual playing form. For right now, Garry was messing up badly and giving Michael all the ammunition he needed to ridicule him on the field.

  2

  Thanks to Garry’s lousy throw, the Cougars had possession of the ball and were running with it down the sidelines. Their left wing attacker was stocky but surprisingly fast. He cradled the ball to one side of his body and held out his arm to block any oncoming attacks.

  Carl and Eric, two of the Rockets defensemen, formed just such an offensive. They charged the attacker together, stopping him in his tracks.

  The Cougar whirled and looked for someone to pass to. He found his center midfielder in the clear and slashed his stick downward to send the ball his way.

  Whap! Jeff, the Rockets center middie, anticipated the throw and slapped the ball down to the ground before the Cougar could reach it. The ball bounced through the grass toward Samuel, another Rockets midfielder. Samuel stuck his stick under it and scooped it up. Now the action was headed toward the Cougars goal!

  “Pass it up, already!” Michael screamed.

  Samuel did, a line drive bomb that socked right into the pocket of Michael’s stick.

  Michael cradled it, spun around, and dashed toward the crease.

  A Cougars defenseman challenged him but then fell back a step when Michael didn’t slow down.

  “Can’t see!” the Cougars goalkeeper yelled.

  That was all the advantage Michael needed. He sidestepped past the defenseman and blasted a vicious shot toward the net. The goalkeeper saw the ball coming and lunged to make the save, but was just a moment too late.

  Goal!

  The Rockets cheered and whooped. Michael acknowledged the praise with a fist pumped in the air. Then he ambled back to the center X for the face-off. He passed Garry on the way.

  “Wallis, since you’re not doing diddly out there today,” he growled, “just feed me the ball and get out of my way. Got it?”

  “I’d rather eat my stick!” Garry snarled back.

  “Really? See me after the game and I’ll feed it to you myself!”

  “Good one, D-man,” Evan, the Rockets left midfielder, called. Evan was Michael’s sidekick. Lately, he seemed to be trying to curry Michael’s favor by giving him different nicknames. It hadn’t worked as far as Garry could tell. Michael still treated Evan like a lower life-form.

  Jeff ran up behind them. “Knock it off, you guys,” he said to Garry and Michael, “and start acting like teammates, will you?”

  The two boys exchanged one last angry look. Then Garry moved to the wing area and Michael to the center. The referee put the ball on the X, stepped back, and blew his whistle.

  Michael flipped his stick over the ball, twisted the head around, and sent the ball bounding over to Conor on the right.

  “Weave!” he cried, the cal
l for a three-man passing play down the field.

  Conor snatched the ball from the grass and immediately started running toward the center of the field. As he did, Michael came toward him. Garry, meanwhile, prepared to receive the ball from Conor and then take his place in the center.

  But Michael had other ideas. “Garry’s covered!” he yelled to Conor. “Pass back!”

  Conor didn’t bother to look Garry’s way to see if Michael was telling the truth. If he had, he would have seen that Garry had dodged past his defender and was, in fact, completely open.

  Darn that Michael! Garry thought furiously as he watched Michael get the ball back from Conor. The weave would have worked if he wasn’t so selfish!

  When two defenders stormed Michael from either side and broke up his attack, Garry couldn’t help grinning — even though it meant the Rockets had missed out on a chance to score. Luckily, the Cougars bobbled their goal attempt and the Rockets reclaimed possession. Two minutes and some quick passes later, the ball was in the Cougars net!

  The third quarter ended with the Rockets within one goal of a win.

  Coach Hasbrouck gave them a rousing pep talk during the short break and sent them back onto the field. Every Rocket out there was determined to take the game away from the Cougars.

  But as the clock ticked downward, the score remained tied. Ten minutes to go. Five. And still it stood at Cougars 9, Rockets 9.

  Then the Rockets got a lucky break. A Cougars defender, thinking Evan had the ball, slammed into the middie from behind.

  Tweet! The referee blew a blast on his whistle and pointed a finger at the Cougar. “Illegal body check! One minute penalty!” he shouted.

  Coach Hasbrouck clapped madly from the sidelines. “Power play! Now’s your chance, Rockets!”

  With two minutes left to go, the Cougars were one man down on the field. The Rockets front line went into action. Garry, Michael, and Conor charged to the crease. Jeff sent the ball to Samuel, who carried it past the midfield line and rocketed it to Conor. Conor flashed a quick, sharp shot to Michael. Michael turned on his heel as if to pass to Garry — only to turn back, square up to the goal, and fake a shot. Evan streaked up behind Garry and received Michael’s pass. Michael then dashed across the crease in front of Garry, and held up his stick for a return pass.

  It was a tricky maneuver, one that called for Evan to make a perfect pass around Garry.

  Unfortunately, Evan’s pass was far from perfect. Instead of landing in Michael’s pocket, the ball flew over his head and right into the webbing of the goalie’s oversize stick head.

  “Oh, good going, Wallis!” Evan fumed as they hustled back to help out the defense.

  “What’re you blaming me for?” Garry returned angrily.

  “You got in my way so I couldn’t see Michael!”

  “Then you shouldn’t have tried passing to him!” Garry argued.

  “Heads up!” Jeff’s warning came a second too late.

  Blam! The hard rubber lacrosse ball struck Garry right in the helmet! He saw stars as he fell to the ground. Then he saw a stick reach past him and scoop up the ball. He wobbled to his feet just in time to see Michael race down the field, twist past two defenders, and put the ball in the net — moments before the buzzer sounded to end the game!

  The Rockets had won! They whooped, belly-bumped each other, and slapped jumping high fives. Todd helped his brother to his feet and Garry celebrated along with his teammates — even though his head was ringing.

  “Man,” he finally asked Jeff and Todd, “who threw that?”

  Jeff started to answer but was interrupted.

  “Nice assist, Wallis,” Michael drawled. “If I’d known you could use your head that way, I would have ricocheted one off your helmet long ago!” Laughing, he sauntered away to receive his teammates’ congratulations.

  Garry stared from his brother to Jeff and back again. “Michael threw that ball at my head on purpose, didn’t he?” he demanded.

  “Garry, come on, it must have been an accident,” Jeff said.

  “Had to have been,” Todd put in, “Michael wouldn’t —”

  “Oh, he would, and you know it!” Garry was so angry he spat the words. “I can’t believe you, Todd, of all people, are sticking up for him! And you,” he added, turning on Jeff, “I thought you were my friend!”

  With that, he grabbed his gear and stormed away from the field, leaving Jeff and Todd staring at each other in disbelief.

  3

  Garry avoided Todd and Jeff for the rest of the afternoon. At dinner, he made himself a sandwich and snuck out of the mess hall with it rather than sit with his teammates. And that night, he jammed his new earplugs into his ears and pretended to be asleep when the others called for him to join their campfire.

  He must have really fallen asleep, though, for the next thing he knew it was morning. He sat up, feeling completely rested — and completely foolish for the way he’d acted the night before. He found his brother and Jeff at breakfast and slid onto the bench next to them.

  “Um, hey there,” he mumbled. “Sorry about —”

  Todd held up a hand. “ ’Nuff said. I’ve been there, remember? Just eat your breakfast.”

  Garry obeyed meekly. Then he asked his brother what the team was supposed to do the rest of the day.

  “We’ve got free time this morning,” Todd replied. “And then practice after lunch. Jeff and I are going swimming. Want to come?”

  Garry did, so the three hit the lake after breakfast along with several of their teammates. Garry was happy to see that Michael was not among them. By the time practice rolled around, he was determined not to let, the other boy get under his skin again.

  That proved more difficult than he had imagined, however.

  Midway through practice, Coach Hasbrouck split the team into two lines for a stationary zigzag passing drill. He dumped a bucket of lacrosse balls at one end and called, “Start it up, Conor! I need to talk with the tournament director.” Then he headed over to an adjacent field where a man with a clipboard waited.

  Conor scooped up a ball and threw it across to Pedro. Pedro caught it and hurled it to Eric, who was standing next to Conor. Conor, meanwhile, started another ball going.

  Within moments, multiple balls were zigzagging in rapid succession back and forth across the twenty-foot divide. If one ball was dropped, there was always another one right behind it.

  Garry was receiving balls from Carl and throwing them across to Michael. Carl usually threw with pinpoint accuracy, but today his tosses were a little off. Garry missed one, jumped for another, and caught a third at knee level. His throw after this third catch set Michael off on yet another rant.

  “Wallis, I’d need a trampoline to catch that!” he yelled as the ball sailed far above his head. “You see a trampoline here? No? Then how about you aim for my stick instead of the clouds!”

  A few nearby Rockets tittered. Evan, standing next to Michael as usual, held up his hand for a high five. Michael, as usual, ignored him, instead focusing his attention — and sarcasm — on Garry.

  “My stick doesn’t telescope eight feet in the air, you know! Or do you think I can bring the ball down to earth with the power of my mind?”

  Garry was about to retort that he didn’t think Michael could do anything with the power of his mind when — thwap! A fast-moving ball struck his side.

  “Sorry, Garry,” Carl called apologetically. “I thought you were ready!”

  “Oh, he’s ready all right,” Michael said with a snort. “Ready to ride the pine in the game tomorrow, I’d say!”

  Any intention Garry had of putting up with Michael’s taunts went straight out the window then. “Shut your yap, Donofrio! Wait, never mind. I’ll shut it for you!”

  Blood boiling, he scooped up the ball that had hit him and flung it as hard as he could at Michael. Michael ducked. The ball bounced away into the tall grass.

  “Ooooo,” Evan said. “You gonna stand for that, D-man?”

/>   Michael narrowed his eyes and tapped the neck of his stick against his gloved hand. “I don’t think I am, Evan.”

  Garry took a step toward him but was stopped by a firm hand on his shoulder.

  “All right,” Coach Hasbrouck said quietly. “That’s enough.”

  Garry stiffened for a moment. Then all his anger vanished, replaced by shame. “Sorry, Coach,” he mumbled.

  The coach dropped his hand and nodded. “Okay.” He blew a blast on his whistle. “Set up for the run-and-pass drill. Two lines mid-field, ball in the right line. Let’s see some hustle and some teamwork!”

  Garry hurried to the left sideline. Jeff and Todd came up behind him.

  “Man, why do you bother mixing it up with Donofrio?” Todd said in a low voice.

  “The guy’s a pile of dog doo,” Jeff added. “And you know what happens when you mess around with dog doo? You end up smelling just like it, that’s what!”

  Garry swished his stick head through the grass. “I know, I know. I’ll try to ignore him.”

  “Good,” Todd agreed. Then he looked over to the other line and gave Garry a shove. “But don’t start now, because he’s your partner for the drill and it’s your turn!”

  Michael had already started down the field. Garry had to pour on the speed to draw level with him. When he did, Michael fired such a hard pass that the ball nearly tore the stick out of Garry’s hand.

  But at least I caught it, Garry thought grimly. Bet “D-man” didn’t expect that!

  4

  Garry and Michael tossed the ball back and forth the rest of the way down the field. Garry ended up with it close to the goal and rocketed a shot into the net. Then he retrieved the ball and returned to the end of his line. To his relief, he had a different partner the next time around.

  After fifteen minutes, the coach called them together. “Another team is taking over the field soon. What do you say to a little six-on-six scrimmage in the time we have left?”

  The Rockets were all in favor, so Coach Hasbrouck split them into two teams. Garry had Todd, Conor, Brandon, Pedro, and Andrew on his side; playing against them were Michael, Jeff, Carl, Evan, Eric, and Samuel. Christopher, the team’s starting goalkeeper, volunteered to referee with the coach.