up a bottle of soda, then screw the cap off? That’s what you
remind me of these days, Mark. Except your cap is still on tight.” He dumped the cup in the trash can and walked away.
When he arrived home that night, Mark sat on the edge of his bed and stared down at the floor. His cleats were covered with
mud. His shins showed the beginnings of new bruises and scrapes caused by his own aggressive playing that afternoon. His muscles
ached.
He pried his shoes off his feet and let them fall to the floor with a thump.
“You okay in there?” came his grandfather’s voice from outside his door. “Your dad called a little while ago. Both he and
your mother have been trying to get ahold of you all week. They say you haven’t been returning their calls. Mark?”
Mark stayed silent. He just didn’t feel like talking right now. Not about the game. Not about Vince. And most of all, not
about his parents.
9
T he next day, Mark kept to himself as much as possible. Still, he couldn’t completely avoid Craig. It seemed as though Craig
was determined to forget their last conversation. But Mark couldn’t.
Craig wouldn’t let up. That afternoon, when the Scorpions traveled to Dade City to play the Slickers, Craig slid into the
seat next to Mark as always.
“ ‘City Slickers,’ get it?” he said.
“Yeah, I get it,” said Mark.
“So how come you’re not laughing?” Craig asked.
Mark looked at him quickly. But Craig was just smiling his big puppy-dog smile at him. For some reason, that broke through
Mark’s guard as nothing else could have.
He grinned back. “Is it my fault if your jokes are so lame they fall flat on their faces?” he said. Bothboys laughed, and Mark felt better than he had in days.
But the minute the teams took the field for the start of the game, Mark turned serious. Although Coach Ryan’s warning echoed
through his brain, he wondered if he would be able to play the cool-headed game he usually played — or if the mere sight of
Vince would send him into a frenzied tail-spin. He found out soon enough.
The Slickers kicked off and kept control of the ball by crashing through the Scorpions’ forward line. They moved the ball
all the way into the corner, where a hard-fought struggle for possession took place between Craig and a Slicker wing. The
ball bounced free toward Vince. Vince took it on his chest and let it drop in front of him. Then he began to dribble downfield.
He didn’t even look up to see if I was open, Mark fumed. But even as the thought crossed his mind, he felt a Slicker defenseman
breathing down his neck. He realized it was just as well that Vince hadn’t passed off. That Slicker would undoubtedly have
been able to swoop in for a steal.
By the time Vince had brought the ball in front ofthe Slicker goal, Mark had shaken the defenseman. He was in perfect position for a pass that could result in a goal. But Vince
still had possession of the ball. He was the only one who could call the play. And Mark could see that Vince wasn’t about
to give up the ball so easily.
For a moment, it looked as though Vince was going to have a good shot on the goal. He had expertly evaded his defenseman and
was pulling his leg back for a mighty kick. Then quick as a wink, a second Slicker backfielder leapt in front of him and stole
the ball.
“Come on, you Scorpions!” Mark shouted as play turned in the other direction.
The Slickers carried the ball into the Scorpions’ midfield — but that was as far as they got. Eddie Chu caught up to the ball
on a bad pass from one Slicker to another. He wasted no time in booting it directly to Mark.
“Scatter!” Mark yelled as he crossed into Slicker territory.
This play called for the wings and midfielders nearest the sidelines to switch positions. The idea was to confuse the defense
long enough to set up a goalattempt. Sometimes it worked. This time the play never got off the ground.
There were a few more
remind me of these days, Mark. Except your cap is still on tight.” He dumped the cup in the trash can and walked away.
When he arrived home that night, Mark sat on the edge of his bed and stared down at the floor. His cleats were covered with
mud. His shins showed the beginnings of new bruises and scrapes caused by his own aggressive playing that afternoon. His muscles
ached.
He pried his shoes off his feet and let them fall to the floor with a thump.
“You okay in there?” came his grandfather’s voice from outside his door. “Your dad called a little while ago. Both he and
your mother have been trying to get ahold of you all week. They say you haven’t been returning their calls. Mark?”
Mark stayed silent. He just didn’t feel like talking right now. Not about the game. Not about Vince. And most of all, not
about his parents.
9
T he next day, Mark kept to himself as much as possible. Still, he couldn’t completely avoid Craig. It seemed as though Craig
was determined to forget their last conversation. But Mark couldn’t.
Craig wouldn’t let up. That afternoon, when the Scorpions traveled to Dade City to play the Slickers, Craig slid into the
seat next to Mark as always.
“ ‘City Slickers,’ get it?” he said.
“Yeah, I get it,” said Mark.
“So how come you’re not laughing?” Craig asked.
Mark looked at him quickly. But Craig was just smiling his big puppy-dog smile at him. For some reason, that broke through
Mark’s guard as nothing else could have.
He grinned back. “Is it my fault if your jokes are so lame they fall flat on their faces?” he said. Bothboys laughed, and Mark felt better than he had in days.
But the minute the teams took the field for the start of the game, Mark turned serious. Although Coach Ryan’s warning echoed
through his brain, he wondered if he would be able to play the cool-headed game he usually played — or if the mere sight of
Vince would send him into a frenzied tail-spin. He found out soon enough.
The Slickers kicked off and kept control of the ball by crashing through the Scorpions’ forward line. They moved the ball
all the way into the corner, where a hard-fought struggle for possession took place between Craig and a Slicker wing. The
ball bounced free toward Vince. Vince took it on his chest and let it drop in front of him. Then he began to dribble downfield.
He didn’t even look up to see if I was open, Mark fumed. But even as the thought crossed his mind, he felt a Slicker defenseman
breathing down his neck. He realized it was just as well that Vince hadn’t passed off. That Slicker would undoubtedly have
been able to swoop in for a steal.
By the time Vince had brought the ball in front ofthe Slicker goal, Mark had shaken the defenseman. He was in perfect position for a pass that could result in a goal. But Vince
still had possession of the ball. He was the only one who could call the play. And Mark could see that Vince wasn’t about
to give up the ball so easily.
For a moment, it looked as though Vince was going to have a good shot on the goal. He had expertly evaded his defenseman and
was pulling his leg back for a mighty kick. Then quick as a wink, a second Slicker backfielder leapt in front of him and stole
the ball.
“Come on, you Scorpions!” Mark shouted as play turned in the other direction.
The Slickers carried the ball into the Scorpions’ midfield — but that was as far as they got. Eddie Chu caught up to the ball
on a bad pass from one Slicker to another. He wasted no time in booting it directly to Mark.
“Scatter!” Mark yelled as he crossed into Slicker territory.
This play called for the wings and midfielders nearest the sidelines to switch positions. The idea was to confuse the defense
long enough to set up a goalattempt. Sometimes it worked. This time the play never got off the ground.
There were a few more
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