Gimme Everything You Got - Iva-Marie Palmer Page 0,72
was replaced by dread when we pulled up to the field. It was the real thing. A football field with goals positioned at either end, and with the penalty boxes drawn in white chalk around the goals. Bobby usually just marked those off with orange cones on our practice field. The grass was level, unlike at our park. Its green was sharp and stark against the cold gray of the sky, and the silver bleachers along either side were creepy, like looming metal skeletons. The hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach should have been excitement. Maybe dread was excitement’s scary twin.
Bobby put the bus in park and stood next to the door, watching as we each stumbled or limped off the bus. “I am beyond disappointed. Not only because of what you did, but because you thought I would be fooled.” For all the times I’d hoped he was looking pointedly at me, this time I was sure he was, and I hated it. “But maybe you have a chance, despite your efforts to blow it. This team has only ten players, and they haven’t been practicing together as long as we have. I still don’t know if you’re in shape to win, but maybe you can prove me wrong.”
He stepped off the bus and led the way to our bench, where he set down his clipboard. We knew we were all in deep shit with him, but Bobby wasn’t making it obvious to the other team or the smattering of people in the stands. He ran us through some stretches and jumping jacks, and we were doing our best not to look as sloppy as we felt.
“They don’t look that great,” Arlene said, staring across at the other team as she clutched her side. She was right: their practice kicks were weak.
“Do you feel any better?” I asked Tina.
“I’m mostly tired,” she said. “But I’m nervous.” She waved to Todd, who was wearing a windbreaker and sitting high up in the stands by himself. Jeff and Wayne must have failed to make the early wake-up call to see the game.
“Maybe we’ll be fine,” I said. My brain seemed to be pulsing behind my eyes. “I’m going to be optimistic.”
Bobby cleared his throat behind us and said, “Okay, get out there.” I would have expected an inspiring speech under normal circumstances, but we were lucky he was speaking to us at all.
“Sure, Coach,” I said, my voice cracking.
We soon found that a Bobby speech wouldn’t have done any good. Shortly after we took the field, it was clear how tired and hungover we were. Being in the game, I couldn’t see exactly how shitty we performed, but I’m sure from the vantage points of Bobby and anyone else watching, our cumulative suckage was easy to ascertain. Dawn, who was normally pretty quick, had trouble keeping up with the ball, and a Wisconsin defender stole it from her easily. With the ball in their possession, they made a pass that Marie would normally have pounced on but that instead rolled past her and put their team in scoring position against Wendy. It was only because their forward’s kick was lousy that Wendy was able to save the shot.
My head was pounding, but I felt powered by the urge to fix the mistake we’d made. “Let’s do whatever we can together to get a goal,” I told Tina. “I can die later.”
“We can try,” Tina said. She didn’t sound hopeful.
Wendy booted the ball downfield, and Sarah took control and managed a weak pass that I got hold of only because no one was defending me. I brought the ball toward the Wisconsin goal and a short girl charged toward me. Dana was loping, wide open, across the field. “Dana,” I shouted, and kicked a pass her way.
Dana looked up, disoriented, as my pass rolled right over her foot and directly to another Wisconsin defender, who passed it to a midfielder.
“Fuck, Dana, wake up,” I said.
The midfielder handily got the ball to her forward, who squared up and kicked it neatly into our goal. Wendy barely tilted toward the ball.
The Wisconsin team scored two more goals, more because we were crappy than because they were good. Marie tripped over one of the Wisconsin midfielders’ feet and pounded the ground in frustration.
Somehow, Lisa and Franchesa both scored, but neither goal was pretty. The Wisconsin goalie was clearly still getting used to her gear and had simply failed to see the ball as