Chapter 1

The Regional’s in the NCAA Division One Football playoffs were not going well. The field goals I kicked and even an extra point had been missed during the first half of the game. My kicks were bouncing off parts of the goal post. In past games for the most part my kicks had been ‘money’ and important points had been added to the scoreboard. Over and over I was a proven game changer during the Pandemic shortened season and had been especially a valuable asset in our Division One NCAA playoffs.

“You’ve Come A Long Way Baby!” Two months ago I became only the second female kicker in the entire south and first at the age of nineteen years-old in our conference. The men made fun of me and told me to go back to being a flag girl with the band. However, now they all cheered for me and my kicking accuracy inside the forty yard line. That’s why I was featured on WROL TV where my mom was a weekend sports anchor and game night reporter. Television stories about my journey for soccer star on the girl’s team to the first string kicker on the football team was broadcasted throughout the state. My mom who had broken down barriers herself was my role model and inspiration.

The more kicks I missed the more perturbed I got. I started not taking my time, altering my kicks and not following through the way I knew I should be doing. This lack of discipline frustrated my coach and my teammates. However, my mom the sports anchor who had highlighted my story was mad! Mad that I was blowing it. A Chiron had run across the screen during the segment featuring me in the newscast. ‘Girl Kicker Leads Team To Championship.’

I just couldn’t figure out why my accuracy tonight was off. All our mill- town’s people had driven three hours to support the team excited to have an outlet from their post pandemic era jobs. As I looked over in the stands I could see the disappointment in their face and heard their groans as I missed an easy field goal. One I made all the time. The week had been filled with college scholarship talk and I was feeling invincible before the game started. Now, I was having trouble making not one, but two field goals and they were both high percentage kicks.

Instead of my team best percentage of 76% or around two out of three success rate for the season. And, then there were the dumb kicks that I knew better than to even tell the coach I could try. I tell you I was becoming a frustrated football special team’s player stomping my foot and yelling at my teammates instead of calmly running the ‘kick routine.’ While I was not scoring points I was not gold bricking either. My uncontrollable nerves led to sweat that permeated my white football pants. I felt eyes on me from the crowd who could see my visible panty line from the stands due to the bright lights of the stadium. Proof to the men, I was just another female who had gotten my position in the courts. And, the women booed too as their men studied my lined butt.

Finally the buzzer sounded on the scoreboard for the end of the half. We exited the grass field as team. After I left the playing surface, I could see the frustration on my coach’s face and he had a message for me. I was told instead of joining the team in the locker room, my mom wanted to see me out back in the press trailer. I jogged out to the travel trailer in the parking lot and entered the deserted press trailer. There was no one there, but my mom and she looked mad. She waved the stat sheet with the pitiful figures which denoted my horrible kicking in the first half in black and white. Mom told me I had let my success go to my head. I nodded my agreement embarrassed about my performance and stomping my foot on the field.

Mom said I had shown poor leadership and sportsmanship and she was going to use the newspaper to settle me down. He rolled up a copy of the newspaper with my picture on the front. She told me I needed a newspaper reminder to focus me reach down and find my shooting motion. He said the workers of our town had sacrificed to come support the team and I was playing like a prima donna. Raising his voice slightly and putting a tinge of steel in his voice, it became apparent before I rejoined my teammates I would be sporting a shiny red sore bottom rivaling the lacquered shine of the football field under my football shorts. That is how I would play the second half.