Abby the Bad Sport by Ann M. Martin

Author:Ann M. Martin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.
Published: 2015-07-14T16:00:00+00:00

Benched. For two whole games. In my entire soccer life, nothing like this had ever happened to me.

And all because of Erin.

I was mortified. I sat there as Coach Wu’s words poured over me, my mind catching on the word “benched.”

“Abby! Are you listening to me?” she asked. Her voice was soft but very serious.

“You can’t bench me,” cried Erin. “It’s not fair.”

For once we agreed on something. It wasn’t fair. I was even willing to admit that Erin didn’t deserve it either.

But Erin’s next words put a lid on my empathy. “Abby started it.”

It was such a little-kid thing to say that I looked over at Erin in surprise. She was sitting bolt upright on the bench, her hands clenched into two fists, her gaze fastened on Coach Wu’s face. She looked as if she were about to cry.

Coach Wu said, “You are both responsible for your behavior today, which was one of the worst examples of unsporting conduct I have ever seen, especially between two teammates.”

“I would’ve scored,” I protested, “if Erin —”

Holding up her hand, Coach Wu stopped me. “That’s not the point. And neither you, Abby, nor you, Erin, is getting the point. Your behavior is not in keeping with the spirit of the Special Olympics. It is not in keeping with the spirit of Unified Sports. It is not in keeping with the spirit of any athletic endeavor. Benching is a drastic measure and no coach, especially in Unified Sports, ever wants to do something like this. But I’m going to. What I saw today was players playing selfishly, behaving badly, and letting their team down.”

That stopped me. Then I thought, It can’t be true.

Coach Wu said, “I expect you to be at practice and at the next two games. I expect you to think about what you’ve done. And if I believe that you have made some changes in your attitudes, we’ll see if you can play like members of a team after that.”

“But, Coach!” Erin said.

Coach Wu shook her head, turned, and walked away.

Erin jumped up and picked up her gear bag. She turned to me with blazing eyes. “You are a big jerk, Abby,” she said, and, still wearing her cleats, she turned and left me sitting there, speechless.

I didn’t tell anybody I’d been benched. It was too humiliating. I figured I’d just go to the games and sit on the bench and people would think the coach wasn’t playing me. Maybe I’d mention that she didn’t like me. Or refer casually to the slightly sprained ankle I’d gotten in practice.

It was a lie about the ankle, but it was better than the truth.

Fortunately, I didn’t mention a bogus bad ankle to Anna or Mom when I told them I’d lost the game.

Anna took the news lightly. “Hey,” she said, “how do you get to Carnegie Hall? Practice!”

It’s a dumb old joke, but one that we usually laugh at. I didn’t laugh. I said, “Carnegie Hall doesn’t rank with me, Anna, thanks all the same.

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