Coach was in her office with the door closed, talking to three women, and she looked concerned. She looked up at me when I passed by and then quickly looked back at them. That was weird. I kept walking to my locker at the back of the room to get ready. I liked the back corner where I could put my headphones on and get in the zone away from everyone else.
Thankfully, I hadn’t thought about yesterday’s practice until now. I pushed the thoughts out of my mind, put my headphones on, and pressed play on my Sony Discman. Radiohead’s Everything in Its Right Place streamed into my ears. Then I unzipped my bag, pulled out my jersey, and set it on the bench. It was white, with a green and gold striped collar and a green number 8 on the back. I’d been the number 8 for as long as I could remember.
Once I pulled my jersey on, I tied my cleats in a double bow, put my hair up in a high ponytail with two elastics, and stepped into biker shorts. I was very particular about how I got ready. Lastly, I picked up my backpack and Adidas bags and pulled my stick out of my locker. It was time to head to the field.
I walked out into the middle of the room and stood on a chair.
“COUGARS READY?!” I shouted.
“READY!” my teammates replied.
“STICKS UP! LET’S GO!” Then I hopped down, headed for the door, and tapped the top of the door frame on my way out.
Everyone followed and did the same. The sound of the tap-tap-tap reverberated behind me as the awaiting crowd erupted in cheers. Once out on the field, we all headed for the bench, dropped our bags, and huddled around Coach. Then the Refs called for the captains’ meeting, and Coach DeLaney and I headed to the center circle. The captain from the opposing team was already standing there waiting with their coach.
“First game of the season.” The Ref said. “Let’s have a clean match, keep everyone safe, and most of all, let’s have fun,” she said.
I shook hands with the captain, coach, and Ref, then I headed back to our bench. On the way back, Coach DeLaney asked me how I was feeling and if I had given any thought to our conversation from the day before.
“I’m feeling good,” I said, but I didn’t elaborate beyond that, and she didn’t push.
“Okay, ladies, huddle up,” Coach said, with outstretched arms. “Today is about putting everything we have practiced into play. It’s time to give it everything you’ve got.” She looked up at me as she said it, and I smiled with determination. Then she nodded, looked at her clipboard, and read off the field positions. When she finished reading the positions, I called for everyone to put the toe of their stick into the middle of the circle and started our pre-game chant. At the end, we raised our sticks up, chanted one last time, broke the circle, and headed for the bench.
I settled into my usual spot at the end of the bench, closest to the center line of the field. I liked to be as far away from the bleachers as possible to be less distracted by the random chatter of the crowd. All of my teammates sat down except me while we waited for the game to start. I paced the sidelines out of habit and anticipation.
“Oh my God, Allie, he’s here,” Isabelle said.
“What? Who?” I asked as I followed her gaze to the bleachers.
There was Chris, sitting in the back row, staring at me with a smile on his face. So that’s what he meant by, ‘see you down there.’ My stomach dropped. Nobody I knew had ever come to watch me play before. I didn’t know how to react, so instead I shoved my mouthguard in my mouth, raised my fingertips off my stick in the form of a small wave at him, and spun back around. I couldn’t let this break my focus. I had to convince myself that he was just another body in the crowd.
“Allie!” Coach DeLaney called as she walked towards me. “Just a heads up that there are three coaches here to see you play today, so don’t panic if you see them walking the field with clipboards watching you.”
Oh great. No pressure.
“Just do your usual best. That’s what they want to see,” she said, with a pat on the shoulder.
The whistle blew.
Without saying a word, I turned to the bench, gave everyone a look, and we all headed to the field. I found my spot at right wing and waited for the face-off. The game whistle blew, we took possession of the ball, held them off and the first quarter was ours.
1-0.
We headed back up to the center line, cheering and hugging and ready for the next quarter. The referee set the ball down and blew the whistle. Our center beat theirs to the ball again, we held pressure for the next 15 minutes until our midfielder fought their defender to the goal, passed it to Isabelle, she flicked it in, and advanced the score.
2-0.
As I ran back to the bench during halftime, that’s when I remembered that Chris had come to my game, and I wondered if he was still there. When I glanced to the bleachers, I caught his eye, he smiled and slowly shook his head with what I assumed was encouragement, his waves of hair loosely falling into his eyes. I smiled back and then looked away to stay focused. Five minutes later, the Ref blew the whistle, and we headed back out onto the field to our positions.
Once in our spots, the Ref dropped the ball onto the field and blew the whistle. This time, St. Margaret’s beat us to the ball and passed it back to their center field. They fended us off and ran us down. Our team was clearly tired. Their best player made it into the shooting circle and took a slap shot. It made it past Courtney, who hit the goal post with her stick in frustration.
2-1.
We all shook our heads with disappointment and looked over at Coach Delaney as we turned to run back towards the center line. She had her arms crossed sternly, but called to us with words of encouragement.
“Brush it off! You got this, don’t let it rattle you. Keep going, ladies,” she said.
We got back in position, the Ref set the ball back on the ground, and blew the whistle. Our center took possession of the ball and passed it back to our midfield, who sent it out to our left wing, but by the time our forwards made it to the center of the field, their forwards were already in our end zone, duking it out with our defenders. Courtney stepped out and kicked the ball forward, but not far enough that their center didn’t swoop in and flick the ball just past her, into the goal again. Shit. This wasn’t looking good. Tie game, and we were losing steam.
