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TheVeryFoulSoccerTeam3

ItchingtoPlay

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K

eeppassingtheballtoMaxinthesecondhalf,”CoachWattenbargersaidatthehalftimemeeting.

“Remember—he’sthebestplayerintheleague.”

Howcouldanyoneforget?JonathanglancedatMax,whowassittingnearbyinthegrass.Maxprobablyhadasignonhisbedroomdoorthatsaid,“BestPlayerintheLeague.”HeprobablyownedaT-shirtthatsaid,“BestPlayerintheLeague.”Heprobablywokeupeverymorningandwenttobedeverynightsaying,“I’mthebestplayerintheleague.”

Maxwasaverygoodplayer,butsowereothersontheteam.AndrewandAaronRussellhadalotoftalent.Carlos

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wasadecentplayer,andsowasJonathan.Plus,soccerwassupposedtoinvolveeveryone,withplentyofpassingandteamwork.

“SofarCoachWattenbargerismakingthisteammiserable,”Jonathanthought.

“Ilovewinning!”Carlosblurtedoutwithagrin.

Apparentlythecoachwasn’tbotheringCarlos!Jonathanlookedaround.Mostofhisotherteammatesweregrinningtoo.Okay,somaybeCoachWattenbargerwasn’tmakingtheteammiserable.ButhewassuremakingJonathanmiserable.

Aaronraisedhishand.“IpassedtoMaxwhenthereweretwoGrayWolvescoveringhim,andwelosttheball.Shouldn’twepasstoplayerswhoareopen?”

Thecoachshookhishead.“AlwayspasstoMax.Maxisthebestplayerintheleague.”

Jonathanfoughttheurgetorollhiseyes.Aaronfrowned.Sodidhistwin,Andrew.

“Let’swin,win,win!”thecoachsaid.

“Win,win,win,”afewkidsrepeated.

JonathanjoggedbackontothefieldwithCarlosandthetwins.

“It’sgreatstartingthesecondhalfofthegamewitha

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two-pointlead,”Carlossaid.

“We’dhaveathree-pointleadifthecoachhadletJonathantakeashotatagoalinsteadofpassingtoMax,”Aarongrumbled.

“IfMaxistheonlyplayerwhogetstoshootgoals,thisseasonisgoingtostink,”Andrewsaid.

“Agreed,”Jonathansaidwithasigh.“Itwon’tbeanyfuntoplay.”

OnthefieldJonathan’steamlinedupagainsttheGrayWolves.OneoftheGrayWolvesforwardssneeredatJonathan.

“YouletMaxWattenbargertakealltheshots.Youmustbescaredofthegoal.”

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Jonathan’shandsballedintofists.Itwasbadenoughthatthecoachwouldn’tlethimshootanygoals.Itwasworsetogetridiculedforitbytheotherteam.

“I’mnotscaredofthesoccergoaloranythingelse,”Jonathansaid.Actually,hewasscaredofsnakes,sharks,andbeautifulgirlslikeMarissa.Buthekeptthatprivate.

“Ithinkyouandyourwholeteamarescaredofthegoalsinceyouhaven’tgottenanywhereclosetoit,”CarlostoldtheGrayWolvesforward.

“Yeah!”Jonathanputin.

Thewhistleblew.Gameon.

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Thesecondhalfofthegamewentaboutthesameasthefirsthalf.CoachWattenbargerkeptorderingtheteamtopasstheballtoMax,sotheydid.Maxscoredtwomoregoalsbutalsomissedseveralshots.

AftereachgoalmostoftheTeamWattenbargerplayerschanted,“Max!Max!Max!”Jonathanjustmouthedthewordsandkepthisarmsfolded.HenoticedthatAndrewandAaronstayedsilenttoo.

IntheendTeamWattenbargershutouttheGrayWolves,4–0.Astheteamsjoggedoffthefield,CarlosturnedtoJonathan.“Whatagame!”

“Yeah,whatagame,”Jonathanrepeated—withnoneofCarlos’enthusiasm.

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“Cheerup,Jonathan.Wewon,”Carlossaid.

“Ilikewinning,butIdon’tlikepassingtheballtoMaxallthetime.”

Carlosshrugged.“Max’sdadisourcoach,andthat’sthewayCoachwantsit.There’snothingwecandoaboutit.”

“Ohyes,thereis.”Jonathanperkedupsuddenly.“WhatifwestoppedMaxfromplayingnextweek?Wecouldputsuperstrongglueonthebottomofhiscleatssothey’dsticktothegrass.”JonathanlaughedashepicturedMaxwithhiscleatsstucktothefield.“OrwhatifwesprinkleitchingpowderinMax’ssocks?He’dbesobusyscratchinghismiserablefeet,hewouldn’tbeabletoplay.Thentherestoftheteamcouldgetachancewiththeball.Orwecouldfindsomeonewithabadcold.ThatpersoncouldcoughalloverMaxandmakehimsick.”

Carloslaughedbutshookhishead.“We’dgetinhugetroubleifwedidanyofthosethings.Besides,weneedMaxifwewanttokeepwinning.”

Jonathanwasn’tsurehewantedtokeepwinning,notifitmeantbarelyplaying.

Jonathan’smotherwavedfromthesideline.Shewasholdingacontainerfilledwithbigcookies.

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“Congratulationsonyourwin,boys.Wouldyoulikeacookie?”

“I’dloveone,”Carlossaid.

“Helpyourselves.Ihaveoneforeveryplayeronyourteam.”

“Thanks,Mom,”Jonathansaid.HeandCarloseachgrabbedahomemadedoublechocolate-chipcookie.

“Yum!”Carlossaid.

“Delicious,”Jonathansaid.

JustthenMaxandhisfatherwalkedby.

“Goodjoboutthere.Haveacookie,Max!”Mrs.Cho

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called.

“No,thankyou,”Maxsaidquickly.

“Whatasnob,”Jonathanthought.

CoachWattenbargerfrowned.“Sorry,butIdon’tletMaxeatsweetsduringsoccerseason.It’sforhisowngood.”

Jonathanknewitwasimportanttoeatwell,butwouldonecookiereallymakeadifference?

Maxlookeddown,shufflinghisfeetinthegrass.Jonathancouldn’thelpfeelingalittlesorryforMaxashisfatherwentonabouttheimportanceofnutrition.

“Youboysshouldn’teatjunkfoodeither.Maxdoesn’teatjunkfood,andhe’sthebestplayerintheleague.That’s

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whyhegetstheballallthetime.”

Jonathan’smotherraisedhereyebrows.“That’snottheonlyreasonMaxgetstheballallthetime.Iheardyoutellingeveryonetopasstohim,”shesaid.“Shouldn’ttheotherkidsgetmoreopportunitieswiththeball?Thisistherecreationleagueafterall.Thekidsaresupposedtobehavingfunoutthere.”

Jonathanwantedtohughismom.Notonlyhadshemadeth