Chapter 15: Varsity Soccer

School was starting in a few days, and the fall sports teams were busy practicing. Football was practicing in the mornings, soccer and tennis in the afternoons. Josh and Jake had both tried out for the football team and had made the junior varsity team. I was on the varsity soccer team, playing my right defensive position behind Skip Horvath, a senior and one of the stars of our team. Skip was chosen for All-Conference honors as both a sophomore and a junior, and was second-team All-State last year. Given his reputation and skills, I wasn't planning on a lot of playing time this season, but I knew he could teach me a lot about the game. Even though I wasn't a starter, I was happy to be playing on the varsity team with Skip as my mentor. I knew that the position was mine for my junior and senior years, as long as I didn't screw up somehow.

When I got to the first practice, I was surprised to discover that I was one of only two sophomores on the varsity team. In addition, one of the backup keepers was a freshman I only knew slightly. He was Kristina Mendoza's brother, Jorge. Like Kristina, he had been playing year-round soccer for years in Texas. The other sophomore was Eric Johnson, a teammate from my club soccer team. Eric won nearly every foot race he ever ran in, from grade school through middle school. He ran on the track team in the spring, but he preferred soccer to cross- country in the fall. Because of his speed and stamina, he usually played midfield. He wasn't especially skilled with the ball, but he was so lightning fast that, like Jen Davies, he left his opponents in the dust, making him very tough to defend.

Part of the first day of practice was spent introducing everybody, from players to coaches to equipment managers, as well as getting the schedules handed out and assigning lockers and uniforms. The rest of the time was spent running on the track. We did a one-mile run, rested, a half-mile run, rested, and finished with wind sprints. Eric and I were in pretty good shape from playing so much during the summer, but some of the kids were pretty wiped by the end of the afternoon. After the last sprint, we all pretty much collapsed on the grass of the soccer field, gasping and sweating. A couple of guys crawled over to the sidelines and threw up, something the coaches duly noted.

The coaches ordered us in to shower up. We all stood up to walk into the school to the locker room. Three or four teammates were a little wobbly and needed support, and a bunch of others were still breathing very hard long after Eric and I and a few others had managed to catch our breaths. We straggled along, glad the day's practice was finally over.

As I was sitting on the bench in front of my locker removing my soccer shoes, socks, and shin guards, Skip came over and sat down beside me. He had already removed his gear and thrown everything, including his sodden t-shirt, into a pile.

"You came out of that torture in pretty decent shape," he said. "I take it you played a lot this summer."

"Yeah," I said. "I played on a recreational team this summer, and I also played on a club team. As a matter of fact, we have our last game on Wednesday morning. I was wondering if I can get out of team practice that afternoon."

He chuckled. "This is varsity soccer, Porter. No excuses for missing practice. You're gonna get your fill of running by the time you're done on Wednesday. Anyway," he continued, "we're having a little soccer team party on Saturday over at my house. Kind of a get-to- know-your-teammate party. You going out with anybody?" I nodded. "Bring her along. I've got a pool, so bring a suit and a towel. I'm telling people to get there anytime after about one o'clock in the afternoon. We'll throw something on the grill for dinner, but you'll need to provide your own drinks. No booze. Okay?" He got up and walked away without waiting for an answer.

A senior talked to me like I was an equal! And not just any senior, it was Skip Horvath, one of the best-known and most popular kids in school. Now I felt like I had really made the team. I went home to mow our lawn, dog-tired but happy.

The next morning, I rode over to the Wilkinson house to work with Davey and Kip. I had called Lori and let her know about my schedule. She was kind enough to let me switch to mornings with the boys.

We went over to the park and began stretching. I told them that I could only work with them on the weekends now that school was starting.

"But will you come watch our games?" asked Davey.

"Sure I will," I said. "Remind me to get a copy of your game schedule from your mom when we get back to your house, okay?"

"Are you gonna be our coach during the games, too?" asked Kip.

"No, sport. Your team already has a good coach. I'll just be there to cheer for you."

"Oh. Will Molly be there too?"

"Maybe. I can ask her, if you'd like," I said.

"Molly's a good soccer player, isn't she?" asked Kip.

"Yes, she is."

"Well, why don't the two of you be our coaches, then?"

"I think it's because you're supposed to have grown-ups for coaches, Kip. Molly and I are still kids, too, you know."

"Really?" He had to think about this one. "I guess you are, if you are still going to school like Davey and me. But you look pretty grown-up to me, Sean."

I laughed out loud. "Hey, thanks, pal. But I really don't feel grown- up. I like being a kid, you know."