Soccer Duel Page 8

  Bryce's eyes widened, “Really? You mean that?” Bryce had seen the old photographs, the dusty trophies. His dad had been all-state in high school, in three different sports!

  “I'm sorry I haven't been around to see you more often, son,” his dad said. “I don't know… sometimes I think what's going on in my life is so important.” He laughed without joy. “Funny, huh? I guess this is what's really important, right?”

  Bryce nodded and swallowed hard. “I'm glad you came, Dad,” he said, and the two of them hugged. His father ran a hand through Bryce's hair and said, “I'm going to make it my business to get to know you again… . If that's okay with you.”

  “It's great, Dad,” Bryce whispered, hugging him tighter.

  “Yellow Jackets!” Coach Hickey shouted. “Let's go! Gather round!”

  “I've got to go,” Bryce said.

  “You get out there and nail it down, Junior,” his father said. “I'll be rooting for you.”

  With Renny on the sidelines, the game rapidly began to tilt in favor of the Yellow Jackets. When Bryce hit an incredible shot, with two defenders on him, to put his team back into the lead, Renny sprang up and ran over to Coach McMaster. “Put me back in; Coach!” he demanded. “I've got to get back in there!”

  “All right,” McMaster said. “Singleman! Come out for a breather!”

  “What? Why, Coach? We need him on the wing!”

  “I've got to get my subs in there sometime,” Coach McMaster explained. “League rules — everyone gets at least ten minutes of playing time, finals or no finals.”

  Shaking his head but understanding, Renny headed out onto the field. Possession kept changing hands over the next five minutes, until finally John Singleman was put back into the game. Now that Renny had some real help up front, the Hornets were able to sustain a rush. It ended with Singleman putting a comer lack right onto Renny's foot, ten feet in front of the goalie. One swift kick later, the score was tied again!

  “We're gonna win! We're gonna win! Oh, yes!” Renny could hear Jordan Woo screaming. He paid no attention. With time running down, he knew he had to keep his focus on the game.

  Bryce McCormack was causing all kinds of trouble in the Hornets' zone now. Renny, not wanting to give the Yellow Jackets the lead again, ran back to help out on defense. He could hear his coach yelling at him to stay up front, but he knew he had to get back there and give his overwhelmed defensemen some support.

  He had the advantage of surprise, and when he came up behind Bryce, it was easy to knock the ball away from him. “Hey!” Bryce yelled. “What are you doing back here?”

  Renny didn't answer. He was already in hot pursuit of the ball. He got to it just before it went out of bounds, then spun around and kicked it downfield to John Singleman.

  By the time he got into the Yellow Jackets' zone, the ball had already been shot and the rebound was coming right toward him. Renny headed it back toward the goal and rushed in to keep up the pressure. It was too much for Sam Plummer, the harried Yellow Jackets goalie, who shouted for help — too late. Renny busted a shot over Sam's left shoulder that caught the net just underneath the top bar. The Hornets had their first lead of the game!

  “Two minutes left!” the referee alerted the teams.

  “Everyone up front!” the Yellow Jackets' coach yelled. “This is it! Get it to Bryce!”

  Renny heard him and called out to the other forwards to get back and help. With all the Yellow Jacket defensemen downfield, the Hornets' defense would be outmanned and outgunned. It was a desperate ploy, and it was dangerous. It meant the play would be in the Hornets' end — and that, of course, meant some risk. Still, if the Hornets could fall back and jam up the passing lanes, Bryce would have little chance of getting off a good shot in time.

  Renny made it his business to guard Bryce one-on-one. Bryce saw him coming this time and smiled confidently. He certainly didn't look, to Renny like a beaten man.

  So. This was it, Bryce thought, as he saw Renny coming at him. It was now or never, with less than two minutes left to play. There was only one thought on Bryce's mind — score, and make it fast. He put a move on Renny that was so sudden Renny slid to the ground and tumbled head over heels. “Yeah!” Bryce shouted as he deked two more Hornet defenders.

  He was zigging and zagging toward the goal but subtly allowing the defense to push him to the left, clearing the middle for his Yellow Jacket teammates.

  Then, when the defenders had fully committed to him, Bryce seized the moment. He went into his patented spin move, the one he'd shown Renny, and lifted the ball into the air, where he headed it over the defense and into the wide-open middle.

  “Get back in position!” Coach McMaster was screaming. But it was too late; The Yellow Jackets had a three-on-one rush going, and Bryce, along with the stunned defenders, ran toward the play.

  There was a hard shot, which the goalie got a hand on. Then there was one rebound, then another. Renny Harding put his body in front of a fourth shot, but the rebound came straight to Bryce.

  This was the moment he'd been waiting for. He reared back his right leg and smashed a blur of a shot right into the corner of the net, just as the ref blew his whistle signaling the end of regulation time!

  “Tie game!” the ref shouted. “Fifteen-minute overtime.”

  Ten minutes went by, and the teams traded one more goal each, with Renny setting up John Single-man, and Bryce feeding Eric Dornquist. Time was winding down.

  Renny knew what would happen now. If nobody came up with a goal in the next five minutes or so, there would be a shoot-out. Each team would get five shots at the goal, and whoever got the most goals would win the game — and the championship. Each team would choose five shooters, for one shot apiece.

  Sure enough, the rest of the overtime period was scoreless, and the five minutes went by in no time.

  “Shoot-out!” the ref shouted. “Teams, select your shooters!”

  Coach McMaster picked his five shooters. “Wilkes first, then Singleman, then Bowie, then Charlie, and then Renny.”

  Renny was worried. What if the Hornets were put of the running before he even got his chance to shoot? But he realized be had no control over that.

  Renny trotted out onto the field. There was Bryce, facing him across the center line. “I'm going last. You?” Bryce asked.

  “Also,” Renny confirmed.

  The two boys shook hands, and the ref flipped a coin. “Call it, Hornets,” he said.

  “Heads,” Renny called.

  “Heads it is.” The ref turned to Renny. “Do you want to shoot first or second?”

  “Second,” Renny said.

  The first Yellow Jacket to shoot was Eric Dorn-quist. He placed the ball at the top of the Hornets' zone. Chuck Mathes braced himself in goal. Eric shot, and the ball flew toward the net. Chuck leaped into the air, his arms stretched skyward, and deflected the shot.

  “Way to go, Chuck!” Renny screamed.

  But the first Hornets' shooter did no better, his shot skimming off the side of his foot and dribbling harmlessly into the goalie's arms.

  The second Yellow Jacket to shoot was Steve Weintraub. He took a big shot. Chuck deflected it, but it found the top of the net and went in. A groan went up from the Hornets' sideline, a cheer from across the field, where the Yellow Jackets began jumping up and down.

  “Go get ‘em, John,” Renny said. Singleman gave him a high five, then trotted out onto the field. John had a wicked shot, and he showed it now, putting a zinger into the corner of the net. The score was 1-1, with three shots each left to go.

  None of the next three shooters managed to put the ball in the net. The score was still 1-1 when Charlie Ebbetts took his turn. As the Yellow Jackets' goalie steeled himself, Charlie wound up as if to give the ball a mighty kick.

  Sam, fooled by the motion, went for the phantom kick. But Charlie hadn't sent the ball into the air after all. Instead, he blasted it on the ground — and right into the net! It was 2-1, Hornets, with j
ust Bryce and Renny left to go!

  Bryce went first. Renny's heart was pounding in his chest as he watched his friend size up the goalie. Chuck bounced from foot to foot impatiently.

  Bryce did what he did best — he used his power and strength to bull the ball right past Chuck. The score was now tied.

  “Come on, Renny!” Coach McMaster shouted above the roar of the crowd. “Put it in, and we're champs!”

  Renny took the ball. This was it — if he failed, the score would still be tied and the teams would select other shooters. The outcome would be out of his hands, and he would have to watch from the sidelines while the game, and the season, was decided.

  This was his chance, and Renny knew it. He stood poised, waiting for the whistle. When it came, he moved with lightning speed and kicked as hard as he could. Sam leaped into the air, extending his arms to try and deflect the ball, but it hit the post — then caromed across the goal, finding the net just over the goal line. The game was over! The Hornets had won it all!

  Bryce sank to the ground in disbelief. The season was over, and his team had lost!

  In the past, Bryce knew, he would have thrown a tantrum right about now, breaking things wherever he could find them. But Bryce didn't feel like breaking anything now. He just felt stunned, and drained, and tired.

  His father was standing over him, gazing at him fondly. “I'm real proud of you, Junior,” he said, crouching and putting his head next to Bryce's. A fatherly arm came around Bryce's shoulder. “It doesn't matter so much who won. You played your heart out. It was a beautiful thing to see.”

  They hugged, and Bryce felt the tears coming. They came and came. He hadn't cried like this since … since third grade.

  Finally, he wiped the tears away and stood up. “I've got to go shake hands,” he told his dad. “Wait for me, okay?”

  “Sure thing,” his dad said, releasing him with a smile.

  Bryce went over and lined up with his team; “Good game,” they told each of the elated Hornets in turn.

  “Good game,” Bryce told Renny, stopping to grab his hand. “Really good game*”

  “You, too,” Renny said with a smile. “Ice-cream sundaes later, remember?”

  “Uh-huh,” Bryce said, managing to smile back.

  Coach Hickey gathered the Yellow Jackets around him. “You boys have been the best team I've ever coached,” he said. “I'm sorry we didn't win, but I'm not sorry we played the way we did today. We lost to a great effort by a very good team. That's soccer for you. But you can all hold your heads up. And I've got a trophy for each one of you when we have the team picnic next week.”

  The team managed a cheer, then gave each other high fives for the season they'd had — a first-place finish and a great play-off.

  A main with a big camera came up to Bryce. “Hey, Number Ten, I want you for a photograph for the Crestmont Herald. Come on over here.”

  He led Bryce over to where Renny was standing. “The two of you, pose together with the ball between you. That's it,” the photographer said. “Now, kind of growl at each other. That's it….”

  He snapped the picture, and both boys cracked up.

  Then the commissioner of the soccer league got on the sound system. “It's time to present the championship and MVP trophies,” he announced.

  First, the big team trophy was given to Coach Mc-Master, who handed it to Bill Kelly of Kelly's Plumbing, the team's sponsor. “This'll be featured in our big display window!” Mr. Kelly crowed^ holding the trophy over his head to cheers from the crowd.

  “And now, it's time for the Most Valuable Player award,” the commissioner announced. “This year, we had a tough decision to make….”

  Bryce stood there frozen, hanging on the commissioner's every word.

  “But there was only one trophy to give out, so we couldn't split the awards Therefore, the trophy goes to… Renny Harding of the league champions, Kelly's Plumbing Blue Hornets!”

  It took Bryce a second to recover; then he began clapping and cheering, leading the applause for Renny, who looked as if he was going to faint while receiving the trophy. The kid is really stunned; Bryce realized. He can't believe he got it.

  Bryce had figured Renny would get the award. After all, he was the best player on the winning team! and that was how MVPs got chosen. Bryce didn't feel hurt by it. The pain of losing the game had been much worse.

  Renny was coming toward him with the trophy. “Bryce,” he said. “You should really have won this. I don't know why —”

  “Cut it out,” Bryce said. “You deserve it. You guys won. That's life.”

  “Hey, you two!”

  Bryce and Renny turned. Coach Harrelson nodded at them. “Yeah; you two guys. Let me congratulate both of you.”

  He shook each of their hands, then turned to Renny. “Listen, young fella, I hope I'll be seeing you at the tryouts for the JV team next season. I suspect you'd do quite well as my center striker.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Renny gasped. “I mean, thankyou.”

  Now Bryce was really hurt. The coach's words had been like daggers going through his gut. He'd practically promised Renny that he'd start at center striker!

  There went Bryce's last hope. He'd lost out to Renny where it really counted.

  “And as for you, young man.” The coach turned to Bryce.

  Bryce looked at him, blinking. What was he going to do — offer Bryce a nice warm seat on the JV bench?

  “You've got an extraordinary package of. skills,” Coach Harrelson told Bryce. “I'll bet Coach Johnson will find a starting spot for you on the front line of the varsity team.”

  “What?!” Bryce couldn't believe what he'd just heard — the varsity! As a freshman!

  “It wouldn't be at center striker, you understand. My guess is he's gonna go with Curtis Jenkins. You'd have to take right wing, with Nick Vaccarella on the left.”

  Bryce stuttered his thanks, and the two boys watched Coach Harrelson leave to congratulate the coaches.

  “I'm about ready for a sundae, how ‘bout you?” Bryce asked Renny.

  “Definitely!” Renny said, nodding happily. “We've got a lot to celebrate.”

  “And my dad is buying,” Bryce told him.

  Renny stared at him, wide-eyed. “He's here?” he asked.

  Bryce nodded as his dad came up behind him. “Dad, I want you to meet my new friend, Renny Harding.”

  “Pleasure,” Bryce's dad told Renny. “Funny, I feel like I know you already….”

  Out of the comer of his eye, Bryce thought he saw his dad wink at Renny. But why would he do that? he wondered.

  Nah. Maybe he'd only imagined it. Anyway, what did it matter? Bryce felt like the whole world was his friend today. And as for Renny — the two of them would be cheering each other on all next season. And someday, when Renny got to the varsity squad, they'd even get to be teammates.

  The three of, them, Bryce, his dad, and Renny, walked toward Conroy's. As they went, Renny and Bryce talked excitedly about the great plays they'd made that day, and about the future.

  Bryce felt his dad's arm around his shoulder and smiled. He'd lost the championship, and the MVP award, too. But life was still good — it was very, very good.