Soccer Hero Read online

  Benji was silent for a moment. Then he said, “I wonder if they'd let us look for our own coach? Just because they don't have anyone doesn't mean we can't find someone, right?” Excitement grew in Benji's voice. “Listen, before we give up, let's get everyone together and see if we can come up with some ideas on how to find a new coach. I'll call the offense, you call the defense. Tell whoever you get ahold of to meet at the field in half an hour. Oh, and tell them to wear their soccer stuff so we can play a pickup game, at least.”

  “Okay, I'll try,” Rob said. He pressed the END button on the phone and then hit TALK to dial the first player's number. “But I don't know if it'll work,” he said to himself.

  4

  Half an hour later, Rob joined his teammates on the field. Out of the fourteen members, only four players — Dmitri, Joey, Rudy, and Scott — were missing.

  “All right,” Benji said when they all had gathered under the shade of a big tree. “We need a plan.”

  “Yeah,” Kirk said. “Rob, what do you think we should do?”

  Rob blinked in surprise. “Why're you asking me? Benji's the one who called the meeting!”

  “Actually, Rob,” Benji said, “maybe it makes sense for you to tell everyone what Mrs. Brennan said first.”

  Rob nodded and told them about his conversation with the coach's wife.

  “I'll bet she thinks you're the greatest!” Kirk said enthusiastically.

  “Gotta admit, Rob, what you did was kind of unbelievable,” Ming seconded. “So come on, you got any ideas for finding us a new coach?”

  “Well, urn, let's see,” Rob mumbled awkwardly. “We could try putting up signs in some stores to let people know we're looking for a new coach.”

  Even as he suggested it, he thought it was a lame idea. Yet to his astonishment, his teammates nodded and smiled.

  “And how about an ad in the newspaper?” Rob continued, now warming up to his ideas.

  Now Benji jumped up. “I know just who to call. My sister's boyfriend's mother works for the Town Gazette. I'll bet she could tell us what to do. Of course, ads cost money. Would you guys be willing to chip in some cash to keep the Pirates together?”

  Everyone nodded in agreement.

  “Then I'll call the soccer league and make sure what we want to do is okay with them,” Benji said.

  “So, now that that's decided” — Rob picked up his soccer ball, lobbed it into the air, and bounced it off his knee — “how about we get a game going?”

  Cheers of enthusiasm greeted the suggestion. The boys quickly divided into two teams. They flipped a coin to see which side would be skins. Rob's team lost, so he, Arnold, Sam, Benji, and Bryan shucked their shirts and headed for the field.

  “Hey, Rob, should we use goalkeepers or just go without?” Kirk called.

  “I vote go without,” Rob replied. “That sound good?”

  But Kirk didn't offer an opinion. Instead, he cried, “Rob says to play without goalkeepers!”

  Rob opened his mouth to add that it was fine with him if others wanted to use goalies. But everyone seemed to agree with the decision, so he closed his mouth again and jogged toward his usual left midfield position.

  He didn't reach it, however, because Benji shoved him toward the center circle instead.

  “Go ahead, start things off,” Benji yelled as he moved to his own spot at right midfield.

  Rob had never played center forward before, but he knew what he was supposed to do. He put the ball on the ground, signaled the start of the game, and booted a sideways kick to Sam on his right.

  Sam was a chunky boy with short legs. He wasn't a great athlete, but he always tried his hardest. Now he controlled the ball and dribbled forward a few steps before passing back to Rob.

  Rob saw an opening on the field. He dribbled toward it, only to have the opening close up when Brendan leaped to that spot. That left Arnold free. So Rob booted the ball to his other forward and then darted ahead in case Arnold sent a return pass.

  The pass back did come, but so hard and so fast that Rob wasn't prepared. The ball ricocheted off his shin and careened over the touchline.

  “Our throw-in!” Ming called.

  As Ming started toward the ball, a tall boy with dark hair scooped it up. “Heard you guys were pulling together a pickup game. So who's winning?”

  It was Dmitri. Scott was with him, too.

  “Excellent!” Leo exclaimed. “Now that you guys are here, we can play six-on-six!”

  “And guess what?” Kirk chimed in. “Rob came up with these great ideas for finding us a new coach!” He quickly filled them in on what had been discussed — praising Rob way more than Rob thought he should have. “So, Rob,” he finished, “which team should they go on?”

  But Dmitri was already pulling off his shirt. “I'll be on skins. Scott, how about you do us all a favor and keep your shirt on?”

  “Ha, ha,” Scott said sarcastically. But he trotted to the opposite side of the field.

  Ming held out his hand. “It's shirts' throw-in.”

  Dmitri tossed him the ball and moved toward the center forward position.

  “Um, Dmitri?” Rob said. “That's where I was playing.”

  “You were?”

  “Yeah, but you take it. I'll switch to midfielder.”

  Dmitri gave him a long look. “That's all right,” he said at last. “I'll try my luck at midfield.” He moved to Rob's usual place at the left side of the field.

  Ming lifted the ball behind his head and, with a strong two-handed throw, hurled it to his teammate, Raul.

  Raul was the second-fastest dribbler after Dmitri. He took off at a fast pace, but Dmitri was even faster. He drew alongside Raul, poked his foot at the ball, and stripped it away.

  It all happened so fast, Raul didn't seem to realize he no longer had the ball. By the time he did, Dmitri had passed up to Arnold, who held the ball for just a moment before blasting it to where Rob was waiting.

  Rob took it on the fly. He dodged past Brendan and then, with the goal in sight, drew his foot back for the kick.

  He knew the minute his foot struck the ball that the kick was way off. The ball cleared the top of the goal by more than five feet! He stopped short, put his hands on his knees, and blew out his breath in disgust.

  “Nice try!” Benji called. “Six feet lower and it would have been in for sure!”

  Everyone laughed as they got ready to put the ball back in play. Since Rob had sent the ball over the goal line, it was shirts' goal kick. Brendan placed the ball in the goal area. Ming lined up to his right within the penalty box, Kirk to his left. Leo and Scott hurried to the corners of the box while Raul danced back and forth along the top. Their object was to clear the ball as far from their own goal as possible.

  Rob and his team, meanwhile, were looking to do just the opposite. They drew in tight, but when Dmitri stepped inside the box, Rob held up his hand to halt play.

  “Dmitri?” he said hesitantly. “The offense has to be outside the box for a goal kick, remember?”

  The look Dmitri gave Rob this time was level and cool. But he moved so he was no longer within the penalty area. “Is that better?” he asked, his voice mocking.

  Rob caught the tone, reddened, and looked away.

  Benji caught the exchange. “Okay, you two, knock it off,” he said. “Go on, Brendan, play ball!”

  So Brendan drew his foot back and booted a solid kick to Raul. Raul trapped it just inside the box. As he did, Leo and Scott took off down the sidelines. Raul waited half a beat and then blasted the ball to Scott. Scott controlled it and dribbled toward the middle of the field.

  Dmitri rushed him. So did Sam.

  “Sam, I've got it!” Dmitri cried.

  But Sam couldn't put on the brakes in time. The two players collided just as they reached Scott.

  “Ooof!” Dmitri sprawled face first, his bare chest sliding across the rough grass. The ball bounced across the field and out of play.

  “Man, are
you okay?” Scott asked as he hurried to his friend's side.

  Dmitri sat up. He looked irritated, and he had a long scratch near one of his ribs.

  “Take a breather, dude,” Leo said.

  But Dmitri shook his head. “So, how are we going to rule that?” he asked as he brushed bits of grass from his chest.

  “Are you kidding?” Scott said. “Sam fouled you!”

  “They're on the same side,” Rob pointed out. “So it can't be a foul.”

  Scott crossed his arms. “Okay, then what do you do when your own teammate deliberately trips you? Because that's what Sam did!”

  “I did not!” Sam sounded surprised and hurt by the accusation. “I was going for the ball!”

  “That was Dmitri's move to make, not yours!” Scott said, his voice rising. “He even told you to back off!”

  Now Kirk stepped forward and put his hands on his hips. “Since when is Dmitri in charge? I say we let Rob decide!”

  Rob, horrified by what was happening, started to protest. “No, wait, I —”

  Dmitri held up a hand to cut him off. “No, no, I think you should decide, Rob. You seem to be the one everyone's listening to today.”

  5

  Until that moment, Rob had never really understood the phrase “tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.” Now, with the eyes of his teammates boring into him, waiting for his reply, he got it one hundred percent.

  “Uh, hold on, let's see,” he mumbled. His mind whirled as he tried to come up with a solution. Then finally, after what seemed like minutes but was probably only a few seconds, he thought of something.

  “Let's do a drop ball to restart play right here where the collision occurred. Dmitri and Scott should battle for it, since it happened on Dmitri's side of the field. I think that would be the fairest thing to do, anyway,” he finished.

  No one said anything for a moment. Then Brendan shrugged. “Sounds good to me. I'll drop it if you guys want.”

  And just like that, the tension lifted. Brendan held the ball in the air between Dmitri and Scott while the rest of the players scattered to their positions.

  “Okay, ready?” Brendan called. He pursed his lips, whistled sharply, and let the ball drop to the ground.

  Dmitri and Scott stabbed at it with their feet. Scott got control, but he didn't dribble far, for Sam suddenly came to life and stripped the ball from him with one smooth move. Seconds later, Sam scored.

  “Whoo-hoo!” Benji yelled. “Take that; shirts!” He started chanting a fight song and doing a little dance.

  Normally, Benji's antics made them all laugh. But this time, only some of the kids were grinning. Dmitri and Scott were not among them.

  Benji faltered in midchant. When he caught Rob looking at him, he gave a small, embarrassed shrug. Then he returned to his position on the field.

  Raul, meanwhile, took the ball to the center circle where he and Leo had a quick whispered conference. Play resumed when Raul jabbed the ball to Leo. Leo dribbled down the center of the field with Raul trailing behind him by several paces.

  Dmitri started toward Leo but then stopped when Benji moved in as well. But Benji slowed down at the same time, as if to let Dmitri make the play.

  That hesitation gave Leo and Raul the time they needed to work the play they'd been whispering about. First Leo dribbled a few more paces. Then he left the ball behind but continued on down the field as if he still had possession.

  The drop fooled both Dmitri and Benji for a split second — plenty of time for the fleet-footed Raul to rush forward, take control of the ball Leo had left for him, and dribble past them to the goal.

  Sam rushed forward to break up the drive, but it was Bryan who saved the day. He planted himself in front of the goal, and when Raul took a shot, Bryan deflected it — right off his head!

  The hit was so hard that it knocked him off his feet. He lay on the ground, stunned, while the ball soared into the air. When it came down, Raul was one step closer to it than Rob. All Raul had to do was tap it into the net.

  Raul didn't celebrate the score, however. He held his hand out to Bryan and helped him to his feet instead. “Sorry!” he said. “I was aiming for the corner, not for you!”

  “Yeah?” Bryan rubbed his forehead where a red mark was forming. “You got lousy aim, man!”

  The two players stared at each other for a moment. Rob held his breath. Was this the start of another argument?

  Then Raul and Bryan started laughing. Relieved, Rob did, too, and by the time the rest of the team had joined them, the three were howling.

  They played for another half hour with the two teams exchanging goals, praise, and insults. Then, when there was a lull in the action, Benji said, “I think I've had enough soccer for one day. Who's up for a swim in my pool?”

  The invitation was greeted with whoops of enthusiasm that quickly died when Benji added, “Admission to the pool is a couple of bucks.”

  “You're going to charge us to swim in your pool?” Sam asked, amazed.

  “It's for the ad in the newspaper, clown!” Benji said. “If you bring your money now, it'll save me from having to bug you for it later!”

  With that, the boys left for their homes. Rob's and Benji's houses were in the same direction, so they took off together.

  “Was it just me,” Rob asked as they hurried along the sidewalk, “or was Dmitri kind of mad at me today?”

  Benji was quiet for a moment. Then just as they reached his house, he said, “I think Dmitri is used to having other players look up to him. Take Kirk, for example. Usually, he's Dmitri's number one fan. But today…”

  “Today what?” Rob pressed.

  Benji climbed the steps to his front door. “Today, Kirk had a bad case of hero worship!” He gave his friend a lopsided grin. “Not that you don't deserve it. In fact, if I had my way, the whole world would know about what you did for the coach!”

  6

  The swim party at Benji's house was a huge success, and not just because Benji's pool was the best one around. Benji had made good on his promise to call the soccer league, and by the time everyone had arrived, he'd gotten permission to put an ad in the paper. He'd called some stores, too, and been told he could post signs in their windows. And when all the money the boys brought had been counted, they had just enough to run a quarter-page ad in the paper.

  “Now all I have to do is call the newspaper back and place the ad,” Benji said. “But that can wait until later.” He pointed to a table where some pieces of fluorescent green poster boards and black markers were lying. “Right now, I'm going to work on those signs. Who wants to help me?”

  But the other boys were more interested in swimming, so Benji wound up making the signs by himself. “I can swim anytime,” he reasoned when Rob tried to get him to join in the fun.

  The gathering lasted until sunset. Rob was exhausted from swimming and soccer, so when Benji asked if he'd help him post the signs after dinner, Rob shook his head.

  “Okay,” Benji said, “I guess I'll put them up myself after I call the newspaper about the ad.”

  Rob grinned. “Where do you get your energy, man?”

  But Benji just waved him away. “Well, it's not like I'm using it to save lives or anything!”

  Rob rolled his eyes and left.

  Later that night, Rob had just finished putting away the supper dishes when the doorbell rang. A woman he'd never seen before stood on the other side.

  “Hello!” she trilled, holding out her hand for him to shake. “You simply must be Robert Lasher!”

  The woman's fingernails were long and pointed, like claws. After he shook her hand, Rob surreptitiously wiped his palm on the seat of his pants.

  “Um, do I know you?” he asked.

  “Maybe, maybe not!” The woman winked. “Do you ever read the newspaper, young man?”

  “Sometimes. Sports section, I guess. Oh, wait! Are you selling subscriptions or something? Because if you are, you should really talk to my mom, not
me.”

  The lady laughed as if he'd told the funniest joke she'd ever heard. But she became businesslike when Rob's mother joined them.

  “Mrs. Lasher, hello. I'm Enid Carmichael; I'm sure you've heard of me?”

  Mrs. Lasher frowned slightly. “Why, yes, I believe I have. Don't you write articles for the Town Gazette, Ms. Carmichael?”

  Ms. Carmichael looked delighted. “I do! That's why I'm here!” She crouched down and took Rob's hand in hers again. “A little bird called me tonight and told me about the very brave thing you did. Why, you're a real hero, Mr. Robert Lasher! And now the newspaper has authorized me to write your story — with your parents' permission, of course,” she added hurriedly with a quick glance at Rob's mother.

  Rob frowned. Who would have told her about what he'd done? Then suddenly, he remembered something Benji had said earlier that day:

  If I had my way, the whole world would know about what you did for the coach!

  Rob's heart started racing. Had Benji sent the reporter his way?

  “Ms. Carmichael,” Mrs. Lasher was saying, “we appreciate that you think your readers would find what happened interesting. However —”

  Ms. Carmichael dropped Rob's hand and stood up before Rob's mother could finish. “Before you turn me away, consider this: every parent who reads Rob's story will wonder if their own children would have been able to do what he did. Most, of course, will know they couldn't have.”

  She took a step closer to Mrs. Lasher. “Wouldn't it be wonderful if after people read my article, they enrolled their children, perhaps even themselves, in such life-saving classes?”

  Then she turned to Rob. “Here's another thing to think about: your team needs a new coach, right?”

  Rob nodded. He figured Benji had told her about that, too.

  “Well,” the reporter said, beaming, “what better way to get the word out than a newspaper?”

  Rob wasn't crazy about spending any more time with Ms. Carmichael. She was a little scary. But if it would help the team…