Chapter 11
At my locker, I quickly dumped my books and swapped them for whatever I would need that night. My mind was already elsewhere, and I didn’t take notice of anything around me, including Chris, who was standing right behind me, talking to me.
“What?” I said as I closed my locker, threw my backpack over my shoulder, and spun around.
“I said, I’ll see you down there,” as he reached out a hand and squeezed my shoulder.
“Wish me luck!” I said, as I backed away with a smile and dashed out the door to the gym.
“Y’all ready?” I shouted with encouragement as I walked into the locker room.
“Hell yeah!” someone replied, and it echoed throughout the room.
Coach was in her office with the door closed, talking to three women, and she looked concerned.
She looked up at me when I passed by and then quickly looked back at them.
That was weird. I kept walking to my locker at the back of the room to get ready.
I liked the back corner where I could put my headphones on and get in the zone away from everyone else.
Thankfully, I hadn’t thought about yesterday’s practice until now.
I pushed the thoughts out of my mind, put my headphones on, and pressed play on my Sony Discman.
Radiohead’s Everything in Its Right Place streamed into my ears.
Then I unzipped my bag, pulled out my jersey, and set it on the bench.
It was white, with a green and gold striped collar and a green number 8 on the back.
I’d been the number 8 for as long as I could remember.
Once I pulled my jersey on, I tied my cleats in a double bow, put my hair up in a high ponytail with two elastics, and stepped into biker shorts.
I was very particular about how I got ready.
Lastly, I picked up my backpack and Adidas bags and pulled my stick out of my locker. It was time to head to the field.
I walked out into the middle of the room and stood on a chair.
“COUGARS READY?!” I shouted.
“READY!” my teammates replied.
“STICKS UP! LET’S GO!” Then I hopped down, headed for the door, and tapped the top of the door frame on my way out.
Everyone followed and did the same. The sound of the tap-tap-tap reverberated behind me as the awaiting crowd erupted in cheers.
Once out on the field, we all headed for the bench, dropped our bags, and huddled around Coach.
Then the Refs called for the captains’ meeting, and Coach DeLaney and I headed to the center circle.
The captain from the opposing team was already standing there waiting with their coach.
“First game of the season.” The Ref said. “Let’s have a clean match, keep everyone safe, and most of all, let’s have fun,” she said.
I shook hands with the captain, coach, and Ref, then I headed back to our bench. On the way back, Coach DeLaney asked me how I was feeling and if I had given any thought to our conversation from the day before.
“I’m feeling good,” I said, but I didn’t elaborate beyond that, and she didn’t push.
“Okay, ladies, huddle up,” Coach said, with outstretched arms. “Today is about putting everything we have practiced into play. It’s time to give it everything you’ve got.
” She looked up at me as she said it, and I smiled with determination.
Then she nodded, looked at her clipboard, and read off the field positions.
When she finished reading the positions, I called for everyone to put the toe of their stick into the middle of the circle and started our pre-game chant.
At the end, we raised our sticks up, chanted one last time, broke the circle, and headed for the bench.
I settled into my usual spot at the end of the bench, closest to the center line of the field.
I liked to be as far away from the bleachers as possible to be less distracted by the random chatter of the crowd.
All of my teammates sat down except me while we waited for the game to start.
I paced the sidelines out of habit and anticipation.
“Oh my God, Allie, he’s here,” Isabelle said.
“What? Who?” I asked as I followed her gaze to the bleachers.
There was Chris, sitting in the back row, staring at me with a smile on his face.
So that’s what he meant by, ‘see you down there.’ My stomach dropped.
Nobody I knew had ever come to watch me play before.
I didn’t know how to react, so instead I shoved my mouthguard in my mouth, raised my fingertips off my stick in the form of a small wave at him, and spun back around.
I couldn’t let this break my focus. I had to convince myself that he was just another body in the crowd.
“Allie!” Coach DeLaney called as she walked towards me. “Just a heads up that there are three coaches here to see you play today, so don’t panic if you see them walking the field with clipboards watching you.”
Oh great. No pressure.
“Just do your usual best. That’s what they want to see,” she said, with a pat on the shoulder.
The whistle blew.
Without saying a word, I turned to the bench, gave everyone a look, and we all headed to the field. I found my spot at right wing and waited for the face-off. The game whistle blew, we took possession of the ball, held them off and the first quarter was ours.
1-0.
We headed back up to the center line, cheering and hugging and ready for the next quarter.
The referee set the ball down and blew the whistle.
Our center beat theirs to the ball again, we held pressure for the next 15 minutes until our midfielder fought their defender to the goal, passed it to Isabelle, she flicked it in, and advanced the score.
2-0.
As I ran back to the bench during halftime, that’s when I remembered that Chris had come to my game, and I wondered if he was still there.
When I glanced to the bleachers, I caught his eye, he smiled and slowly shook his head with what I assumed was encouragement, his waves of hair loosely falling into his eyes.
I smiled back and then looked away to stay focused.
Five minutes later, the Ref blew the whistle, and we headed back out onto the field to our positions.
Once in our spots, the Ref dropped the ball onto the field and blew the whistle.
This time, St. Margaret’s beat us to the ball and passed it back to their center field.
They fended us off and ran us down. Our team was clearly tired.
Their best player made it into the shooting circle and took a slap shot.
It made it past Courtney, who hit the goal post with her stick in frustration.
2-1.
We all shook our heads with disappointment and looked over at Coach Delaney as we turned to run back towards the center line. She had her arms crossed sternly, but called to us with words of encouragement.
“Brush it off! You got this, don’t let it rattle you. Keep going, ladies,” she said.
We got back in position, the Ref set the ball back on the ground, and blew the whistle.
Our center took possession of the ball and passed it back to our midfield, who sent it out to our left wing, but by the time our forwards made it to the center of the field, their forwards were already in our end zone, duking it out with our defenders.
Courtney stepped out and kicked the ball forward, but not far enough that their center didn’t swoop in and flick the ball just past her, into the goal again.
Shit. This wasn’t looking good. Tie game, and we were losing steam.
2-2.
This time, we didn’t look over at Coach because we knew she would be stressed. We all headed back to the top of the field to get ready for the reset. The referee dropped the ball and blew the whistle.
This time, our forward took possession and passed it out wide to me, when out of the corner of my eye, their defender came in fast, stick-checked me, and threw me off balance.
I fell to the ground with such speed and force that my head rattled when it hit the ground.
The whistle blew wildly, and the Ref yelled, “Foul on St. Margaret’s! Penalty shot awarded to number 8!”
I could hear the crowd yelling in disapproval of the unsportsmanlike conduct and concern for my condition. My head was spinning as I looked up and saw Coach DeLaney running out onto the field with a green Gatorade water bottle in her hand.
“Allie! Are you alright?” she asked, as she assessed the situation.
I was still holding my stick and used it to help me sit up by the time she got to me.
“Yeah, my head is just buzzing. I hit the ground pretty hard, but please don’t tell the Ref.
I can finish the game. The clock is going to run out as soon as this penalty is over.
The game comes down to this,” I said softly, but trying to keep my composure. The wind had been knocked out of me.
“Ok. If you’re sure you’re okay, then I’ll let you finish this thing. Remember, head down on the drive, and just imagine that nobody is out here on this field but you and the ball,” she said.
As she helped me to my feet, the crowd clapped, and I turned to walk slowly towards the top of the circle. The referee met me there with the ball.
“You good, number 8?”
“Fine, thanks,” I said, then she nodded with a whistle in her mouth, set the ball down, and signaled to St. Margaret’s goalie to make sure she was ready.
I took three slow, deep breaths and thought back to yesterday when it was just Chris and me out here on this field.
Everyone disappeared for a moment. I was calm.
I was focused. Then I brought myself back to the ball in front of me.
I cast one psyche-out glance to the goalie, then I nodded to signal that I was ready, and the referee blew the whistle.
In one fast motion, I flicked the ball high into the top left corner of the goal. I knew she wouldn’t be expecting it since I always shot into the right corner. It went in. I had done it. We won the game.
3-2.
The team rushed me and wrapped their arms around me, cheering and jumping up and down as we ran back over to our bench.
Coach DeLaney was pumping her fists in the air.
Without giving her time to react, we quickly unscrewed the top of the Gatorade cooler and dumped some of the ice water over Coach Delaney’s head, then the team turned and dumped the rest of the water over mine.
I shrieked at the cold water, and Coach laughed and screamed about how proud of us she was as she joined in our celebratory cheers.
Once the celebration died down, we headed back to our bench, and I looked up into the bleachers to see Chris, still sitting there with a huge smile on his face.
I returned his smile at our victory and held up a pointer finger, signaling for him to wait.
I was still soaking wet and freezing from all the water being dumped on me, so I climbed around through the sea of bags until I found my backpack, looking for something to warm me up.
As soon as I found it, I pulled it from the pile, unzipped it, reached into the bottom, and looked up once more to make sure he was watching.
He was. Then I pulled out his green hoodie with PATTON on the back and quickly put it on.
When my head popped through the top, I looked for him again, and his face was overcome with a look of both longing and surprise.
Just as I pulled my wet hair from the neckline and tugged the sleeves down to my fingertips, I heard someone call my name, and I spun around.
“Allie, do you have a minute?” Coach DeLaney said. She was surrounded by people I didn’t recognize.
“Yes, Coach!” I replied promptly. I looked back at Chris. “Wait for me?” I mouthed to him, and he nodded. Then I zipped my bag, grabbed my stick, and headed over to Coach DeLaney, where she was chatting with three women who looked about her age. They all turned to greet me as I approached.
“Ladies, this is Allie Wyatt, our team captain,” Coach said with a smile, as she placed a hand on my shoulder. “Allie, these are the coaches from D1 programs who came to watch you play today.”
“Hi Allie, I’m Coach Andrews from Old Dominion University. It was a pleasure to watch you play today,” the first one said.
“I’m Coach Avery from Wake Forest, great job out there,” said the second one.
“Hey, Allie, great game today, I’m Coach Morris-Cury from Penn State,” said the last one with a smile.
I looked back at Coach DeLaney, starstruck.
I was surrounded by coaches from three of the best field hockey programs in the NCAA.
She signaled for me to go and speak to them, so I sat down on the bench and met with each of them, one at a time, to listen to their school program pitches.
At the end of it, I was left with more confusion than clarity on where I might like to attend next year, but afterwards, Coach assured me that I still had some time to think about it before offers came in.
“Hey, Coach?” I said as she was about to walk away. “You looked worried earlier. Is everything okay?”
“Yep, everything is fine. I was worried because I knew they would be here today, and after yesterday, I just wondered if we should reschedule them, since I wanted them to see you at your best, and then you added this boy to the mix. You really were a star out there today, Allie. I’m glad you were able to focus and take my advice. ”
“Well, I’m able to do both, turns out. He’s waiting for me, actually,” I said, as I turned to look at him, then looked back at Coach, but she just shook her head and smiled.
“Okay, well, as long as it doesn’t distract you from your craft, do whatever makes you happy. You killed it out there. See you tomorrow, Allie.”
I gathered my things and headed back to the bleachers, where Chris was still waiting for me. As I got closer, he reached out for the strings of his hoodie, cinched the hood around my face, and pulled me towards him.
“Great game, Superstar,” he said as he pulled me in closer for a hug.
His arms felt strong wrapped around me as I melted into his warm chest and I stayed there until he let go.
“Green is your color,” he said, letting me finally drift out of his arms. I just smiled, still nervous about wearing his hoodie in public, but getting used to the idea of not caring about what other people thought anymore.
I curled my fingertips around the cuffs of the sleeves and pulled them down again out of habit.
“Ready to get out of here?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I replied. “Thanks for coming. I can’t think of the last time anyone has come to watch me play. I’m glad I didn’t screw up knowing you were here.”
“It was a rush to see you in action, and you were killing me in that skirt,” he said with a tone that made me quickly turn to him when he said it, just in time to see that fire flash again in his eyes.