“Shut up,” Cassie mutters under her breath.
Cassie just shakes her head and focuses on finding Mac down the line. She connects with her instantly and Mac flicks it back with a little heel tap that makes absolutely no tactical sense.
“Mac,” I ask her, flatly, “what was that?”
“Flair,” she calls sweetly before turning and burning up the field. Gotham allowed just enough space for her to make that move before closing in on her. Like Gotham players enjoy toying with her, lulling her into a fake sense of security before pouncing on her and trying to get the ball off of her foot.
Cassie jumps back into the formation so that she can run up there and be ready should her offensive pressure be needed.
I sit back in my box, waiting for some action to come my way. Hopefully, by the time it does, we’ve got a Blaze goal under our belt to cushion the lead.
A Gotham midfielder closes in on Mac, and she darts forward, making sure to avoid the slight jabs that the player is throwing to try and force Mac off her game. Mac pulls back a bit and manages to make her stumble.
“Oooh!” the Blaze bench hollers.
I grin, watching them cheer for Mac as she takes the ball all the way to the goal.
“I love how she plays with them,” I say to no one, but it earns me a turn and a grin from Dana and Elyssa, who are playing the center back positions.
“You’re so mean,” Dana calls back to me.
I roll my eyes but smile at her all the same. If she thinks that’s mean, she hasn’t seen anything yet. The offenders fall at my feet or almost come running straight into me and I swiftly pick up the ball, taking away any chance of a goal. I hope I get the chanceto do that to a few Gotham players today. Just as long as I’m quicker.
I pull my rolled purple shorts down a bit, biting my lip, waiting and watching for that ball to find the back of the other net. Cassie and Mac are pushing up the field, in the box, together. Cassie lightly chips the ball forward, Mac sprints after it. A Gotham player comes up and slams into the side of Mac, sending her flying.
She tries her darndest to stay on her feet, but they push off of her, and she stumbles a bit before landing on her back.
The whistle doesn’t blow. The ball rolls harmlessly out of bounds.
“Are you kidding me?” I say, shaking my head.
“I’m fine!” I hear Mac call to Coach Watts. His face is bright red and he’s yelling at the ref to call something.
“Yeah, call something, anything!” I say to the other girls on defense. I earn a few more smiles but we’re in Gotham; we don’t always get calls on the road and the Gotham players are notorious for playing dirty. They usually get away with it.
Mac turns and give the rest of the field a thumbs up. The ball is given to Gotham, cutting off Mac’s chances at a goal. But she’s okay and that’s all that matters right now.
Gotham has possession near the midfield, their winger cutting inside with a little too much swagger for my taste. I track her step for step, waiting for the moment that she would attempt to strike.
The winger flicks the ball behind her leg slowly, an unnecessary move that is more performative than practical.
I watch her, raising my eyebrows. “Cute.”
The winger smirks at me as she gets closer. “You like that?”
“I’ve seen some U-12s do it cleaner.”
“Ouch,” she says with a chuckle, advancing slowly towards me. The defense is now hanging back a bit as I advance forward, hoping to stop her before she fires.
“Are you always this grumpy?” she asks me, dribbling left to attempt to throw me off my game.
“Only when I’m bored. Come on, take a shot,” I challenge her. “Show me what you’ve got.”
“Oh, so I’m boring you? Here I thought I was giving you some much-needed action that you haven’t seen yet.”
I grin at her. She’s not wrong; they haven’t gotten a chance to fire any shots at me yet. At least none that are this close.
I advance forward, cutting her angle and watching to see if she moves to shoot the ball. I keep on coming, hoping to push her off the ball.
