Murphy & Mousetrap by Sylvia Olsen Page A

and hips and shoulders sprawled toward the right. Instead of getting out ofthe way, he was positioning himself right in front of the ball.
    Splat
!
    Just like before, the ball blasted into his chest. He stumbled backward a few steps, hands glued on the ball, until he was up to his ankles in the puddle. He steadied himself, stepped out of the water and threw the ball toward center field.
    Murphy’s eyes locked with Albert’s again. Albert’s plan to hurt Murphy hadn’t worked. His plan to show the boys that Murphy was no goalie also hadn’t worked. Murphy’s plans hadn’t worked either. At first, when Albert and Levi shot right at his body, he hadn’t moved one bit. Then when Albert drove the ball past his body toward the net, he moved in front of the ball. His body and his mind were not cooperating.
    The boys erupted in a chorus of praise.
    â€œWow!” “Wow, white boy!” “Wow!” Their voices where loud. Even the boys on offense ran toward the goal and raised a high five to Murphy.
    Rory leaped into the air and wrapped hislegs around Murphy. “Way to go! I’ve never seen a save like that!” he said as he jumped down.
    Each boy on his side filed past and gave him a two-handed hug. Everyone was excited about the save except for Albert and Levi, who turned and walked back up the field with their heads bent toward the ground. They didn’t say one word to each other. At least none that Murphy could hear.
    Murphy shook his body like a wet dog. He stretched each leg and then his shoulders. He pulled his fingers and arms and jumped with both feet into the air. As he jumped he moved his neck from side to side. He was making moves. Yes. They felt good. Murphy had seen soccer players on TV and at school limbering up, getting ready, and he looked just like them. He knew it. After a few moments most of the pain disappeared.
    That’s when Murphy changed his plan.
    â€œGet in front of the ball,” Murphy said to no one but himself. “Don’t jump out of the way. Jump into the way. Then shake it off.”
    From then on Murphy practiced his new plan. He concentrated on the players’ bodies as they neared his goal. He studied the way they shifted from side to side. When the shooter was close enough he looked up and stared directly into his eyes. Only out of the corner of his eye did he see the player’s foot connect with the ball. But each time he saw enough to know exactly which way the player would aim. When the ball left the striker’s foot, Murphy’s body shot in front of it, almost without thought, and fast enough to stop it from going into the net.
    It worked almost every time. Only two shots got past Murphy that afternoon. Both goals were scored by a boy they called Big Foot. He had a way of dribbling the ball until he was so close that Murphy couldn’t see which way Big Foot was going to shoot. Then he drove the ball at such a sharp angle Murphy’s body didn’t have a chance to move one way or the other.
    Although Albert’s shots got more and more forceful, Murphy had no trouble blocking them. It was Levi’s strikes that hurt the most. Levi didn’t try to get a goal. He justshot the ball right at Murphy. Each time Levi kicked the ball, it sped faster than the time before. Once it hit Murphy so hard in the chest that it knocked the breath right out of his lungs. Black spots blocked his sight as he bent down and opened his mouth to pull air into his windpipe. Luckily, before he fell over, he finally swallowed a lump of air. It killed his throat, but at least he didn’t pass out.
    â€œWay to go!” Jeff said when the game was over. “You’re great. I thought you said you never played before.”
    â€œYeah, man,” Haywire said. “Looks like we got our keeper for the tournament.”
    Even Big Foot, who played for the other side, grabbed Murphy and tossed him into the air. “Great