Time-Out by W. C. Mack

Author:W. C. Mack
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published: 2014-08-30T04:00:00+00:00

I was feeling better than I had in weeks when I headed to my second soccer session. And when I arrived, I was immediately welcomed by Coach Hernandez.

“Good break?” he asked, moving to stand next to me.

“Absolutely,” I told him.

“I’ve got some plans for you, Russ.”

“Plans?”

“I’m going to try you out in goal.” He paused. “You’re focused, you’ve got a good reach . . . and, other than throw-ins, goaltending is the only time you get to use your hands in this sport.”

I cringed a little, remembering my catch during that first scrimmage.

“How does that sound?” he asked.

“Good,” I told him, glad that he saw some potential in me.

“Great,” he said, slapping me on the back. “We’ll get you into position for this next drill.”

Smiling to myself, I made my way over to the goal.

He was right.

I was focused.

I did have a good reach.

It was quite possible that goal could be the perfect spot for me. And the added bonus? It didn’t require running.

Assistant Coach Baylor gave me a long-sleeved yellow jersey to wear over my T-shirt, along with a pair of gloves with bumpy grips.

I stepped past one of the white posts and into the goal. The first thing I noticed was that the distance to the other post was a lot greater than I’d expected.

Hmm.

I walked from one end to the other, surprised by how many steps it took.

The area I was expected to cover was . . . huge.

“Have you played goalie before?” Baylor asked.

I shook my head. “Never.”

“How about I give you a couple of pointers?”

“That would be excellent,” I said, relieved.

“When they’re coming toward you, you’ll want to get in a crouch, like this,” he said, bending his knees while keeping his legs apart.

“Like a guarding position in basketball.”

“Very close,” Coach Baylor said, nodding. “You want to be able to spring in either direction quickly.”

“That makes sense.”

“Different goalies have different styles, but I like bent elbows, hands up and ready.”

I nodded, mimicking his stance. I wondered whether I looked like a mime in a box and sort of chuckled.

“There we go,” Coach Baylor said. “That’s the first smile I’ve seen you crack all day.” He paused. “Camp is supposed to be fun, you know.”

“I know,” I told him.

A lot of things were supposed to be . . . a lot of things.

For example, my Masters of the Mind team was supposed to be on our way to nationals.

I shook my head to clear the thought away. I needed to concentrate on the positive.

“Are you ready?” Coach Baylor asked.

“Sure,” I told him.

But I was dead wrong.

Coach Hernandez blew his whistle and all of the other guys formed two lines, one to my right and one to my left. Each of the boys in front had a ball and the assistant coaches were standing by, holding mesh bags filled with more.

“Okay!” Coach Hernandez shouted. “At my whistle, we start on the left and alternate.”

Alternate what?

I found out soon enough, when the sound of the whistle pierced the air and the first guy in line dribbled toward me.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.