Soccer Scoop Page 6

  Thivunk!

  The ball sailed into the net at the opposite corner from where it was booted, a nice clean arc that completely missed the Hotspur goalie’s desperate attempt to block it.

  The Scoreboard now read, Hotspurs 3, Cougars 2.

  The Hotspurs were obviously surprised by the revived Cougars. This was not the way their games had been going this season. Mac could see that they were having trouble regrouping after Mickey’s goal. There were endless tie-ups and tangles on the field. One whistle after another blew as the ball went offside or a drop ball was called.

  Both sides were playing a sluggish game. No matter how each tried, they simply couldn’t get the ball into an open space long enough to line up a kick.

  Mac couldn’t restrain himself from calling out now and then to his teammates at the opposite end of the field. And then, suddenly, as it happened so often, the tide turned and the play was all down at his goal. A tiring Cougars defense let the Hotspurs gain an advantage again and again.

  Mac was totally focused. Without a sound coming from his mouth other than the occasional grunt, he was all over the place. He managed to block four successive shots on goal, one after the other, without a ball getting near the net.

  When he finally got the chance, he booted the ball to one of the Cougars open at the far corner of the field. At last, the ball began its journey toward the Hotspurs’ goal.

  The Cougars’ fans in the stands went wild. They cheered Mac over and over for the job he had just done at the goal. They then turned their attention to the opposite side of the field, where the action had grown intense.

  15

  Inspired by the change in momentum at the opposite goal, the Cougars’ defense had caught fire. Constantly on the move, they opened one passing lane after another. It seemed as though the Hotspurs were always half a beat behind.

  Not that they were out of it altogether. Oh, no, Mac could see them getting tougher and tougher in the backfield, that part that was most in his range of vision. They seemed to grow larger as they bore down on the Cougars.

  But tougher play also made for mistakes. Moves that had succeeded for the Hotspurs in the first half were no longer as crisp. Timing was off. The ball remained in their control far less than it had earlier.

  Jackie was outplaying them better than he had any team all season long. Backed up by a midfielder to his rear and another Cougar forward to his left, he dribbled the ball into good scoring position again and again.

  Gradually the Hotspurs defense began to give more attention to the right side of the field, where Jackie held sway. Eventually it seemed as though all eyes were on Jackie and his spectacular display of dribbling.

  That left the field pretty clear for Dougie. So when a lane opened up and Jackie managed to get off a beautiful pass across field, Dougie was ready for it. He trapped it with the inside of his left foot, nudged it into position, and took a quick, hard kick in the direction of the goal.

  Thwap!

  The ball rocketed forward, then rose as it approached the goal. The Hotspurs’ goalie leaped up to block it, but it glanced off his fingertips—and plopped behind him inside the net.

  Goal!

  The stands went wild. Cheers broke out all over the field as the Cougars converged upon Dougie. They swarmed around him, slapping high fives and tens and hugging him all at the same time.

  Rushing in from his position, Mac, too, felt a flush of pleasure at the phenomenal turnaround the team had accomplished in the second half. And Dougie was at the heart of it, no doubt about that. As goalie, Mac had done his part by holding off the Hotspurs’ offense—but you don’t put points on the Scoreboard from the goal area. Glancing up, he could see that the Scoreboard looked pretty good right now, reading, Cougars 3, Hotspurs 3.

  He caught sight of his parents, huddled together in the late-afternoon chill, waving to him. He nodded back in their direction.

  He also saw Jimmy Palumbo. Jimmy was sitting with two girls. Mac flushed slightly when he recognized Deanna. It took him a moment longer to recognize Margie Lewis, the editor of the Chronicle. She waved to Billy, who waved back. Guess they must be an item, Mac figured.

  A whistle signaling the two-minute warning brought his attention back to the game.

  Okay, he thought, just two minutes to hold off the Hotspurs from cracking the targeted area between the goalposts. It’s up to me, more than anyone else, to see to that.

  Having blocked a near-record number of attempts already, was he up to it? Mac was determined to demonstrate that the answer to that question was a loud and clear “Yes!”

  Those final two minutes of the Hotspurs game would long be remembered by fans of both teams. For the players, they were even more memorable.

  The two teams dug in with an unbelievable determination. After holding a lead for so much of the game, the Hotspurs were clearly going after one more goal for a win.

  Proud that they had come back from such a deficit, the Cougars were equally bent on not giving up the ball for a loss.

  And both teams were bone weary. From his position at the goal, Mac could see the drawn lips, matted hair, smudges, spatters, and wear-and-tear of a long hard game almost behind them. More important, he could see clearly what was happening every time the ball got close to his area. That way, he was able to hold off the few attempts made on goal. He seemed to defy the laws of gravity with one stretch or leap after another that kept the ball away from the net.

  It looked as though the final whistle would blow with a mass of players congregated right in front of him, when a pass from one Hotspur to another ricocheted off of Mickey’s sharp, bony knee. The ball went sailing in the opposite direction, and the two teams raced down toward the opposite goal.

  Seconds were left. The referee was undoubtedly drawing in his breath to exhale through the whistle when a pass from Jackie in Stevie’s direction was intercepted by Dougie. Being careful not to get offside, the speedy center had come right up to the line of the penalty area and was in perfect position. He barely tapped the ball with the inside of his shoe, but it went sailing into the net as the whistle blew.

  Score!

  In the most dramatic finish anyone could ask for, the Cougars had pulled it out and won the game: Cougars 4, Hotspurs 3!

  “So what do you say about that?” Jimmy Palumbo cried out to Mac. The Cougars’ goalie had come speeding toward the bench to join in the celebration with the other members of his team. After showering each other with everything they could find on the bench, they had begun to drift in toward the locker room when the question was asked.

  “Fantastic!” Mac called back as he attempted to joined his teammates.

  “So, you think everything about the game went well?” Jimmy asked significantly.

  “We’ll find out soon enough,” replied Mac.

  Mac showered quickly then joined his parents outside the locker room and received all kinds of praise for his play.

  “I don’t know what more you could have done to help,” said his father. “You played a wonderful game.”

  “Just like always,” added his mother.

  16

  The morning after the game with the Hotspurs, the Williams family piled into their van for a drive to Grandma and Grandpa Williams’s house in the next state to celebrate a special birthday: Grandpa s seventieth. There would be a big party, with aunts and uncles and cousins and a stayover at a nearby motel. On the drive up, Mr. Williams told stories about his father and related stories of his own growing up. Mrs. Williams finished the last-minute wrapping of some presents she had bought and also talked about her father-in-law.

  Mac asked some questions about his cousins, most of whom were girls. There were a few boys younger than he was, but they were all pretty cool. He was looking forward to seeing them.

  The trip went well, the party was a great success, and Mac had a great time at the motel. He ran up and down the corridor to fill up one bucket of ice after another in a race with two of his girl cousins, whic
h he won.

  “Boy, you’re pretty fast,” said Mary Alice, panting.

  “It’s his soccer training,” said Elizabeth. “My folks told me that your folks told them that you’re the star of your soccer team at school.”

  Mac was embarrassed.

  “Star? What’s a star? A little twinkle in the universe, that’s what!” he answered. “Hey, betcha can’t make it to the front desk first!” He was off in a flash, trailed by the two girls.

  The ride back home on Sunday afternoon was a lot quieter. The weekend had taken his mind off the cartoonist. But now, with Monday morning and a new edition of the Chronicle looming in front of him, he couldn’t help wondering if Operation Payback had worked.

  Luckily it didn’t take long to get an answer. By the time the bell had rung at the start of school, kids were lined up for the latest issue of the Chronicle. Within minutes, they were chuckling over the latest drawing smack in the center of the paper.

  It showed a gorilla wearing Mac’s uniform number. The beast was standing on top of the prostrate body of the coach, beating his chest and shouting, “Me take over team! Me know more than you!”

  For the first time since the cartoons had started appearing, Mac felt a grin spread over his face. Operation Payback was a success!

  Now all he had to do was get a confession from his suspect.

  School that day dragged by, and practice wasn’t any quicker. But finally both were over. After showering, the Cougars boarded the late-afternoon-activities bus.

  The ride would give Mac the perfect opportunity to confront his man. He made sure he was seated right in front of his suspect. Dougie sat with him. When the bus started moving, he turned around to face the person sitting there: Billy Levine. Billy wasn’t alone, though. His girlfriend, Margie Lewis, was with him. But Mac didn’t care. He wasn’t about to let this chance pass by.

  “Say, Billy, what’d you think of the cartoon in today’s Chronicle?” he asked.

  Billy shrugged. “I dunno, I guess it was kind of funny. I mean, you were sort of like that at halftime Friday,” he mumbled.

  “Oh, was I? Well, I’ll tell you something really funny.”

  By now, others on the bus were listening.

  “I’ll tell you what’s funny,” Mac repeated. “That whole business at halftime was just an act! And everyone, even the coach, knew it. Except you. And do you know why?”

  Billy just blinked.

  “Because I wanted to flush out the guy who’s been making fun of me in the paper, that’s why! And that’s just what I did. It is you, isn’t it? You’re the cartoonist!”

  But to his amazement, Billy shook his head. “No, it’s not me!” he said angrily. “I wouldn’t stab a teammate in the back like that. Guess I can’t say the same thing for the rest of you.” He glared at the other players, many of whom were hanging their heads and shuffling their feet. “Thanks a lot, guys. Nice to know how much you trust me.”

  Mac was stunned. “But—but it has to be you! No one else would have known about what happened at halftime. And,” he added with more conviction, “you were there at the dance, too, when I couldn’t talk to Deanna because my mouth was so full. And then there’s Margie here—”

  Mac glanced at the girl at Billy’s side, then did a double take. Margie was staring at him with narrowed eyes, her mouth a thin line of anger.

  “How dare you set Billy up like that!” she cried. “That’s the meanest thing you’ve ever done to him—and from what I understand, you’ve done and said plenty of mean things!”

  Mac couldn’t believe his ears. “What are you talking about?” he asked.

  Margie imitated Mac’s voice:” ’do you think the mud on the backside of your uniform will ever come clean? ’ ’move it, Billy! Get the lead out! ’ ‘Come on, Billy! Think you could maybe give me a little help here for once?’”

  Mac reddened as he recalled saying those very words to Billy—and more besides.

  Margie continued, “Billys told me all about your never-ending commentary and how his playing factors into it. You’re always on his case. So I thought it was time to turn the tables. You’d ridiculed Billy long enough. I wanted you to see how it felt.”

  “You?” Mac and Billy said in the same surprised voice.

  Margie sat up straighter. “Yes, me. I’m the cartoonist.”

  Dougie broke the awkward silence that followed Margie’s confession. “Say, Margie, if you’re still looking for more ammo to fire at Mac, I can help you out there,” he said in a deadpan voice. “I’ve been listening to his endless yakking for as long as I can remember.”

  Jimmy started snickering. Several other boys did, too. At last, Mac and Billy had to join in. Finally even Margie cracked a smile.

  “I don’t know, Dougie,” she said. “Something tells me my drawing days are over.”

  “Billy, I’m really sorry if anything I said made you mad. I’ll be more careful in the future,” Mac promised.

  “Then I won’t have anything to gripe about to Margie,” Billy said in a mock complaining voice.

  Dougie slapped Mac on the back. “Somehow I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that,” he said. “I mean, come on. Hey, guys, who really thinks Mac will be able to keep his trap shut?”

  All eyes swiveled to Mac. He opened his mouth to retort. But then, with a sly grin, he closed it triumphantly.

  “Well, what do you know?” Jimmy said. “Mac’s Mouth Made Mute! Now that’s a front page headline for the newspaper!”

  “Yeah, it’s a real soccer scoop!” Mac added before he could stop himself. As he clapped his hands over his mouth, the others crowed with laughter.

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