The Comeback Challenge Page 5

  As the Scorpions prepared to take to the field for the second half, Mark noticed that Craig was going in as part of the backfield lineup. He flashed his friend a broad smile.

  But that smile faded quickly. From the stands came a sound he had been dreading hearing.

  “What do you mean, you’re taking Mark out tonight!” Mr. Conway’s voice sounded angry. “His grandparents and I have planned a special family dinner together!”

  “Well, I’ve already accepted an invitation for Mark and me, to have dinner with Mark’s best friend, Craig, and his mother,” Mrs. Conway replied venomously. “Do you even know who Craig is?”

  Mark couldn’t help but notice the sidelong glances his teammates were giving him. His face turned red, and his stomach burned as if he had swallowed a hot stone. He quickly ducked his head, pretending to tie his shoelaces.

  He felt a tap on the shoulder and whirled around. Craig was standing there, an openly concerned look on his face.

  “Hey, listen —” he started to say. But Mark cut him off.

  “It’s nothing,” he muttered. “Let’s just go play some soccer, okay?”

  The Tigers had possession of the ball at the start of the second half. They moved into Scorpion territory quickly, attempting a goal within the first two minutes. But Charlie Burns was on his toes. The Scorpions’ goalie sent the ball almost to the center circle, where Johnny Mintz trapped it. But there were too many Tigers surrounding him, and he immediately passed it off to Mark. Mark dribbled it across the halfway line and into Tigers territory.

  It didn’t take long for an invasion of defenders to close in on him. He passed the ball to Vince. But a Tiger tackler got to it at the same time, and a struggle for possession began. As another Tiger moved in, Mark did the same. The four players twined their legs around the ball until it jiggled free.

  Vince and Mark were the closest to the ball as it skidded through the grass. The two of them scrambled toward it at the same speed. But Mark got there just a little ahead of Vince. He thrust his foot forward to take in the ball.

  Wham!

  A jolt on his hip sent him sprawling.

  At first, he thought a Tiger defenseman had snuck up on him. But when the stars in his head cleared, he saw Vince dribbling the ball away in the direction of the Tigers’ goal.

  Vince knocked me over to get the ball? Mark thought incredulously. But he had to believe what his eyes were showing him. Except for Vince, no one else had been around him. There was no other conclusion to make: Vince had stolen the ball from him!

  8

  Mark stood up and dusted off his uniform. His leg was smarting where he had fallen on it. But he barely noticed the pain.

  “Are you okay?” Coach Ryan called from the side-lines. Mark waved to him to show he was all right and jogged down the field to catch up with the action.

  But he wasn’t okay. Something had happened to him the minute he saw Vince with the ball. As the throbbing in his leg faded, his blood seemed to boil throughout the rest of his body.

  Mark was angrier than he had ever been in his life.

  If he wants to play an “every man for himself” game, he thought, then so be it. I’ve tried to make this front line work, but I can’t do it alone. So I’ll play it Vince’s way from now on.

  And with that he threw himself into the play with a savageness he’d never shown before. When the Scorpions had possession of the ball and were moving it toward the Tiger goal, he charged into every play like a wild animal. Twice he committed fouls that cost the Scorpions free kicks. Luckily neither of them went in for a goal.

  When the Tigers were attacking the Scorpions’ goal, he didn’t wait for the defense to clear the ball to him. Instead, he launched himself into the center of the play, often crashing into his own teammates in his rush to get hold of the ball for himself.

  In the final moments of the game, Mark threw an elbow at a Tiger wing right in front of the Scorpions’ goal. The ref caught the foul and called a penalty kick.

  The Scorpions retreated the required ten yards outside the penalty area. Charlie Burns hopped from foot to foot, getting ready for the Tiger wing to take his best shot. A goal now would tie the game.

  As Mark watched the ref place the ball on the penalty mark, he realized that this situation was his fault. If he had been playing his usual position, the game might be over now and the Scorpions walking off the field with another win under their belts.

  Instead, he was holding his breath, waiting for the ref to blow his whistle, giving the Tiger wing the go-ahead.

  Man, what a stupid move, Mark thought. What was I thinking, playing like that?

  “Nice going, hotshot,” a voice behind him whispered mockingly.

  Mark jerked around. Vince, his hands on his knees, was glaring at him.

  All the fury Mark had felt earlier came rushing back to him. The ref’s whistle blew just as Mark was about to take a step toward Vince.

  Mark’s eyes followed the ball as it shot toward the goal. Charlie Burns leapt up, arms outstretched — and deflected the ball up and over the net!

  A moment later the clock ran out, and the Scorpions jogged off the field amid cheers from the stands.

  But Mark didn’t feel like celebrating. His mind was a jumble of angry frustration. And when he caught a glimpse of his parents, arguing as they left the bleachers, and of his grandparents’ faces twisted with concern, he knew he couldn’t take any more. He turned and ran from the field as quickly as he could.

  The next morning, Mark picked at his breakfast in stony silence. Food just didn’t interest him these days — even the fancy dishes served at the restaurant where he’d gone with Craig and their mothers after the game. He could tell his mother had been disappointed, but he just couldn’t help it.

  And, on top of that, his leg had a nasty bruise where he had fallen on it the day before. When it was time to go, he slammed the back door and stomped down the driveway to catch the bus. He could feel his grandmother watching him, but he didn’t turn around.

  At school, his silence continued. He spoke only when asked a question by one of his teachers. And at soccer practice, he played with a ferocity he’d never shown before.

  From now on, he said to himself, nobody’s going to get near me out on this field. Nobody.

  And no one did during practice all week.

  Coach Ryan seemed impressed by Mark’s intense playing — at first. But on Thursday, he took Mark aside.

  “Listen, I know the idea is to get the ball,” he said. “But not if that means wrestling your own teammates for it. Back off a little, and watch for the opportunities. Remember, you are part of a team, not flying solo.”

  Mark’s scrimmage rotation had just finished. A new group of eleven guys took the field. Mark sat on the bench, watching the action on the field.

  “Hey, Mr. Inside, mind a little company, or would you prefer to plot your next strategy?” Craig flopped down next to Mark.

  “What do you mean?” Mark asked.

  “You’re playing every second out there like it’s your last. Like you have to control the ball as much as possible,” Craig replied.

  “Maybe I do,” Mark said.

  “Okay, my turn,” Craig said. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean it’s time I stopped letting certain people walk all over me. It’s time I looked out for myself out there. I’m playing to win.”

  Craig was silent for a moment. Then he crumpled up his paper cup, stood up, and said quietly, “You ever shake up a bottle of soda, then screw the cap off? That’s what you remind me of these days, Mark. Except your cap is still on tight.” He dumped the cup in the trash can and walked away.

  When he arrived home that night, Mark sat on the edge of his bed and stared down at the floor. His cleats were covered with mud. His shins showed the beginnings of new bruises and scrapes caused by his own aggressive playing that afternoon. His muscles ached.

  He pried his shoes off his feet and let them fall to the floor wi
th a thump.

  “You okay in there?” came his grandfather’s voice from outside his door. “Your dad called a little while ago. Both he and your mother have been trying to get ahold of you all week. They say you haven’t been returning their calls. Mark?”

  Mark stayed silent. He just didn’t feel like talking right now. Not about the game. Not about Vince. And most of all, not about his parents.

  9

  The next day, Mark kept to himself as much as possible. Still, he couldn’t completely avoid Craig. It seemed as though Craig was determined to forget their last conversation. But Mark couldn’t.

  Craig wouldn’t let up. That afternoon, when the Scorpions traveled to Dade City to play the Slickers, Craig slid into the seat next to Mark as always.

  “ ‘City Slickers,’ get it?” he said.

  “Yeah, I get it,” said Mark.

  “So how come you’re not laughing?” Craig asked.

  Mark looked at him quickly. But Craig was just smiling his big puppy-dog smile at him. For some reason, that broke through Mark’s guard as nothing else could have.

  He grinned back. “Is it my fault if your jokes are so lame they fall flat on their faces?” he said. Both boys laughed, and Mark felt better than he had in days.

  But the minute the teams took the field for the start of the game, Mark turned serious. Although Coach Ryan’s warning echoed through his brain, he wondered if he would be able to play the cool-headed game he usually played — or if the mere sight of Vince would send him into a frenzied tail-spin. He found out soon enough.

  The Slickers kicked off and kept control of the ball by crashing through the Scorpions’ forward line. They moved the ball all the way into the corner, where a hard-fought struggle for possession took place between Craig and a Slicker wing. The ball bounced free toward Vince. Vince took it on his chest and let it drop in front of him. Then he began to dribble downfield.

  He didn’t even look up to see if I was open, Mark fumed. But even as the thought crossed his mind, he felt a Slicker defenseman breathing down his neck. He realized it was just as well that Vince hadn’t passed off. That Slicker would undoubtedly have been able to swoop in for a steal.

  By the time Vince had brought the ball in front of the Slicker goal, Mark had shaken the defenseman. He was in perfect position for a pass that could result in a goal. But Vince still had possession of the ball. He was the only one who could call the play. And Mark could see that Vince wasn’t about to give up the ball so easily.

  For a moment, it looked as though Vince was going to have a good shot on the goal. He had expertly evaded his defenseman and was pulling his leg back for a mighty kick. Then quick as a wink, a second Slicker backfielder leapt in front of him and stole the ball.

  “Come on, you Scorpions!” Mark shouted as play turned in the other direction.

  The Slickers carried the ball into the Scorpions’ midfield — but that was as far as they got. Eddie Chu caught up to the ball on a bad pass from one Slicker to another. He wasted no time in booting it directly to Mark.

  “Scatter!” Mark yelled as he crossed into Slicker territory.

  This play called for the wings and midfielders nearest the sidelines to switch positions. The idea was to confuse the defense long enough to set up a goal attempt. Sometimes it worked. This time the play never got off the ground.

  There were a few more hard-fought attempts by the Scorpions to take back control, but the Slickers held out. The play shifted from one side of the field to the other. At one point, Mark made a move toward a ball that had rolled loose in his direction. Three Slickers were all over him instantly.

  He shot the ball over to Mel Duffy, who zipped it up to Vince. But the Slicker defense was just too strong. Vince tried to pass it off, but a Slicker wing took the ball away. A few smart moves by that same wing brought him within scoring range.

  Moments later, the ball zoomed into the net for the game’s first goal. Slickers 1, Scorpions 0.

  Charlie Burns banged his fists on his knees. Mark knew the veteran goalie hated to miss the ball. Judging by what he’d seen, Charlie would never have had a chance to stop it. The Slickers were just too good at finding holes in the Scorpions’ defense.

  And their defense is having no trouble stealing it away from our offense, Mark thought dismally.

  Neither side scored again that half, but the Slickers threatened more times than Mark liked to count.

  During the halftime break, it was obvious that Coach Ryan was upset with the way his team was playing.

  “What’s going on out there?” he asked. “Have you all forgotten how to pass the ball? Call for plays? Are you trying to play one-on-eleven? Let me tell you, it doesn’t work that way! We’re very lucky that score-board shows only one goal for their side.” He paused to look each of them in the eye.

  “Okay,” he said finally. “You don’t need me to yammer at you like this. You’re a skilled team. You just need to use one another more efficiently. Work the plays, and keep the ball moving in the right direction. I want to see Charlie Burns so bored that he’s yawning.” That brought a smile to the boys’ grim faces. As always, Coach Ryan pointed out what was wrong with their playing but never made them feel it was too late to correct it. When the ref’s whistle blew to signal the start of the second half, it was a fired-up Scorpions team that took the field.

  From the moment play started, it was apparent that the coach’s words had struck home. They moved the ball much more quickly. In their very first attack, clean passes flew between all three members of the forward line — Evan Andrews to Mark to Vince and back again. Gradually they brought the ball into firing range of the Slickers’ goal.

  After breaking away from a couple of Slicker tacklers, Mark saw a chance to set up a play the team had practiced over and over again. He called out, “Scorpion Red!” and faked to the left. Then, planting his left foot firmly on the ground, he booted the ball over to Evan, on his left side. Evan got set right away and kicked the ball high into the air toward the goal. The ball rose over the heads of the blocking Slickers and began to drop in front of the goal. The Slicker goalie positioned himself for the catch.

  That’s when Mark came zooming behind the blockers. With a powerful leap, he headed the ball into the corner of the net.

  Goal!

  The scoreboard now read Slickers 1, Scorpions 1.

  Groups of Scorpions gathered around Mark and Evan to congratulate them on pulling off the play. Mark was all smiles.

  “That worked great!” he exclaimed as he slapped Evan’s hand in a high five. “But hey, next time, why don’t you swoop in right after me, just in case their goalie blocks me out? If there are two of us right there, one should be able to get control of the ball, right?” Evan looked thoughtful, then nodded in agreement and trotted back to his position.

  Mark felt great — until he heard Vince mutter something to Eddie Chu that sounded like “Oink, oink, Mr. Know-It-All.”

  Mark was stunned. Did Vince think he had been hogging the ball? But it had been their cooperative effort that had moved the ball into position! It was just dumb luck that Mark had been the one to call the play.

  And what does he mean by calling me Mr. Know-It-All? he thought angrily.

  By now it was midway through the second half of the game. Both teams still had a lot of energy and were calling encouragement to their teammates. Try as he might to shake loose of his anger, every time Mark heard Vince’s voice among the others, his hackles rose.

  His irritation started to show up in his playing. He was so determined to prove he wasn’t a ball hog that he overdid it. When a pass came to him, he moved it too quickly to someone else, often catching that person off guard. Once he tripped over the ball because he tried to get rid of it before he had control.

  Up until then, Mark had been the most reliable member of the team. Everyone counted on him to be where he was supposed to be. Now he was hanging back, trying to let others have a chance. Confused, the rest of the Scorpions
started to misread his intentions. Chances for another goal by the Scorpions began to grow dim.

  Then the Knightstown team got a lucky break. A Slicker halfback made a mistake and passed the ball, in the wrong direction. It landed smack in the perfect spot for a goal attempt by the Scorpions. Evan Andrews was right there and went for it.

  But the Slicker goalie caught the ball and sent it flying back into the middle of the field.

  Mark had moved toward center field when he saw Dick making the kick. So when the goalie returned the ball, Mark was in a good position to capture it. But instead, he stood frozen, uncertain if he should move toward it. At the last moment, he decided to go for it.

  Unfortunately Eddie Chu had begun to move forward as well. It was too late for Eddie to put on the brakes. He and Mark collided, and the ball bounced right by them both.

  The impact sent Mark sprawling to the ground, dazed for a moment. He lay there staring up at the sky.

  The referee blew his whistle. Play stopped as Coach Ryan ran onto the field. By the time he reached Mark, Eddie Chu had helped him to his feet. Mark shook his head to try to get rid of the woozy feeling that had come over him. He felt fine a moment later and was relieved to see that Eddie looked no worse for the wear, either.

  But Coach Ryan decided Mark could use some time on the bench anyhow. Willie Stubbs came in as Mark left the field.

  Mark had been taken out of games before. But usually it was because his team was ahead and the coach wanted to give the substitutes a chance to get in some playing time. But this game was close, and the team they were playing was their toughest competition yet. Mark knew Coach Ryan had replaced him because he wasn’t playing his best.

  It’s all because of Vince, he fumed. If Vince hadn’t made that crack, I’d still be in the game. And what did he mean by that, anyway? I was just trying to help Evan see how a good play could be made even better — for the good of the team, for Pete’s sake!

  Mark was so busy with his thoughts he hadn’t realized the game had restarted. With the score tied 1-1 and only minutes remaining in the game, Willie Stubbs sprained his ankle. Coach Ryan had no choice but to ask the ref’s permission to send Mark back into the game.