Page 20 of We Shouldn't Be Together
I’m going to be in the World Cup one day.
People in stadiums will be cheering my name.
Coach Lyle sets up a cone six-feet from the goal. Ty’s an awesome goalie and gets into position.
“Work on your one-touch,” Coach tells me. “As a striker, you need to be everywhere. Glory doesn’t come from scoring some goals. You need to hold up play to give our defenders time. Whenever they pass you the ball, I want you to kill it with one touch.”
I shake out my limbs near the small blue cone on the ground. “I can do that.”
“I want you in top condition, Nelson,” Coach says. “Alert and focused. You should know where to pass the ball before anyone sends it your way.”
I throw my arms out wide. “Coach, look who you’re talking to.”
“No big-noting yourself, Nelson.” Coach points to Tyler standing in front of the goal. “He needs you. He can only defend our goal so much without the support of his team.”
I grin, jogging on the spot. “And Iamthe team.”
Coach snorts, dropping the soccer ball and tapping it toward Tyler. “Time to stop yapping. Tyler, send it Kai’s way. Kai, I want you on the left side of the cone. In one touch, pass the ball to the left, and then get onside and tap it back to Tyler.”
I crack my neck from left to right. “Too easy.”
Tyler’s eyebrow raises, and my cockiness only intensifies. I watch his foot wind back and I step forward, ready to cushion and control the ball. It’s a short and hard pass that I anchor against my foot. When I swivel to tap it right, I’m put off by Coach.
“Wrong,” Coach calls out.
I keep control of the ball instead of passing right. “What?”
“One touch, Nelson. I said, one touch. Your opponent is already on you by now. You should have already gotten rid of the ball.”
“I stopped because you yelled at me.”
“Big deal. I always yell at you on game days.”
I blow out a breath. “Fine.”
“Pass it back to Tyler and go again.”
When Tyler positions himself behind the ball, I don’t step in close this time. I watch the spin on the ball and anticipate when it’ll land in front of me. I step on the ball and, in one fluid motion, send it right. Following its path, I jog behind the ball and then send it to Tyler.
“Better,” Coach remarks.
This time Tyler sends the ball right. With one touch, I send the ball left and then get onside and pass it back to Tyler.
After a few practices, Coach then has me work more on my footwork with a scissor move. When I tap the ball, I pass it behind my left foot. I then send my left foot backward, stepping on my right and sending the ball swiftly back to Tyler.
My actions get more fluid, and I catch Coach nodding in my peripherals. “Nice,” he remarks.
The more in the zone I get, the more I picture those rows of fans cheering. When Coach works with Tyler on his technique, I continue working the ball around the cone until time is no longer a construct. It’s not until Coach Lyle practically yells in my ear that I stop.
“Nelson, you've got five minutes to get in that blazer and get to homeroom,” Coach orders, thrusting me back to reality.
Tyler waits at the base of the field, waving me over. “C’mon, Kai.”
I nudge the soccer ball over to Coach Lyle. “Thanks for helping me with my technique, Coach,” I say, panting. “I was really feeling it today.”
“I worry about you, Nelson. Sometimes you might be too obsessed.”
I smirk at him as I jog towards Tyler. “No such thing, Coach.”
