A Goal for Joaquin (18 page)

Both teams dragged themselves to their respective sidelines for the eight-minute break before heading back out for two ten-minute overtime periods. The players lay in front of the bench drinking water and panting loudly. Another twenty minutes seemed like forever. But there was no quitting now. Coach Budzinski rallied his troops. He praised them for their aggressive play. “We outplayed these guys. The games is ours if we just keep hustling out there. If anyone is too tired to keep going, let me know so that I can put in fresh horses.” No one responded. Everyone wanted to stay in the game.

During the first overtime period not much happened. Fatigue was showing on both teams. It appeared that everyone was trying to save themselves for the final minutes. The team that caught a second wind would win the game.
 

During the second ten minutes, action picked up. Another Lakeshore player received a yellow warning card for tripping Julio from behind. Julio took the free kick but sent a wild shot twenty feet to the right of the goal. The ball was still moving back and forth with neither team dominating the play. Suddenly, with about five minutes left in overtime, Joaquin got a breakaway run at the goal. He was moving toward the front of the penalty box almost ready to shoot, when he was struck from the side by a vicious tackle. The ball trickled harmlessly across the end line, but Joaquin went tumbling violently across the grass. He heard the bone snap before he felt the pain. By the time he stopped rolling, he was already cradling his broken right wrist in his left hand.
 

Coach Budzinski rushed out on to the field. All the Willowdale players formed a circle around Joaquin who lay writhing in pain on the ground. The referee broke into the circle to check the injured player. He signaled for the scorekeeper to stop the clock. Within minutes Joaquin was back on his feet. He didn't say anything about how much his wrist hurt. He held onto his wrist and tried to stifle any cries of pain. Amidst the commotion, the Lakeshore player was given a red card and was ejected from the game. Lakeshore would have to play with only ten players for the remainder of the game.
 

When order was restored, the referee signaled for an indirect free kick. Buzzy argued that Joaquin had crossed into the penalty box so it should be a penalty kick. A penalty kick would've matched one player from Willowdale against the goalkeeper. It'd be a one-on-one showdown. Advantage would clearly go to the licker. But the official refused to listen. Lakeshore players quickly lined up in a four-man wall ten paces from the ball. Joaquin insisted on staying in for the free kick. At first Buzzy said no, but then realizing how much the game meant to Joaquin and how hard he'd been playing since halftime, he changed his mind and left him in the game. The team had a play designed for this situation. Julio took the free kick and sent it back to Cocoa who passed it to Joaquin. All of the passes were perfect, but Joaquin couldn't get enough power behind his shot to get it by the defense. After much scrambling and pushing the ball rolled harmlessly across the end line, and the referee gave possession to Lakeshore.
 

While Lakeshore was setting up for their goal kick, Buzzy asked the referee for permission to substitute for his injured player. Joaquin argued that he was all right, but he reluctantly walked toward the sideline. Once out of the game he quickly grabbed an ice bag and wrapped the ice in a towel and applied it to his wrist. He was pretty sure it was broken, but he decided not to say anything because he didn't want to risk not getting back in to play. “I'm okay, Coach,” he pleaded, “let me back in.”

“You're not okay and you know it,” Buzzy argued. “Now there's only a couple of minutes left and then we'll go to a shoot-out. You're not going do any good out there the way you're hurting.”

“But coach, if I'm not in the game when the final whistle blows, then I can't take part in the shoot out. You have to pick five players who are in the game when the whistle blows. Please let me go back in for just the last minute. Please!”

“Oh, I'm crazy to even consider it, but if play stops for a throw-in, I'll signal for a substitution.” Buzzy shook his head as he spoke.

Joaquin looked at the scoreboard. There were less than two minutes left to play. What were the chances of a throw-in in that amount of time? He prayed that the ball would roll out of bounds so that he could get a chance to get back in. He wondered why it had to be so tough to substitute in soccer. Why couldn't a coach stop play like in other sports.
 

Then with just over a minute left on the clock, a Lakeshore player kicked the ball out of bounds to stop a Willowdale drive. Coach Budzinski quickly called to the official and rolled his arms to signal a substitution. The referee acknowledged his request and waved in the new player. Joaquin dropped his ice and towel and jogged toward his position. “Now, ” Buzzy shouted to Joaquin, “no contact out there. Just stay away from the ball.”
 

The final seconds ticked off the scoreboard. The ref blew three times on his whistle. Time had run out, and still the score was Lakeshore 1 and Willowdale 1.
 

A shoot-out would decide the outcome of the game. Both coaches got to select five players to shoot penalty kicks. The goalkeepers were the only defensive players allowed to try to stop the kicks. Buzzy looked at his team sitting huddled like weary soldiers on the grass. “Monte, keep loose. You're going to have your hands full the next ten minutes. Now, I need some kickers. Joaquin do you want to try it?”

Joaquin nodded. “I don't have to have a good arm to kick the ball. I'm ready.”

“Okay, you kick first. Get it over with and then get some ice on that wrist. Cocoa you'll shoot second. Kari you're third and Mark Hanson will go fourth.” He paused and looked over his players. “Julio, you get the fifth shot. We may have already won by that time, but be ready anyway. Okay, let's get out there.”

Monte ran toward the goal without a word to anyone. He'd had a pretty easy game, maybe three or four saves. Of course, he could only remember the shot that got by. Willowdale won the coin toss and decided to shoot last. Monte lined up in the goal and faced his opponent twelve paces in front of him. Both players waited for the signal from the referee. When the whistle blew, the Lakeshore player took two steps and then booted a low shot at the corner of the goal. Monte dove at the ball and deflected it away from the goal. Next it was Joaquin's turn. He took his spot and waited for the opposing goalkeeper to get set. At the sound of the whistle, he stepped forward and took a powerful kick. The ball screaming toward the post on the left side of the goal. With a loud thump it smacked against the metal post and bounced back at Joaquin. He lowered his head and walked back to his teammates. He couldn't believe he had missed his chance. He took an angry kick at the turf. Still cradling his throbbing wrist, he moved several feet from the other players and sat down on the grass by himself. He stared at the net hoping his teammates could pull out a win.

The second Lakeshore player missed his shot to the right of the goal. Then it was Cocoa's turn. She waited calmly in front of the goal. She took a deep breath and took three steps behind the ball. When she heard the whistle, she took one easy step then exploded toward the ball. Her shot took off like a missile. Before the goalie could even think about moving, the ball was hanging in the net three feet from the ground. Joaquin couldn't believe the velocity that carried the ball into the net. He sat in awe as he watched Cocoa rejoin the team. There was a delayed reaction before the Willowdale players and fans broke into loud hoots and cheers. Cocoa showed little emotion as she took her spot on the grass. There was too much on the line.
 

The third Lakeshore shooter countered Cocoa's goal by putting a ball just under the crossbar. Monte lunged but couldn't reach it. The next three shots all missed their mark. The score was one penalty shot apiece with just one player left to shoot. Julio nervously moved toward the ball. Joaquin hoped his friend was able to tune out the off-side call earlier in the game. He could read the tension on his Julio's face. The biggest play of the season rested on a player with almost no experience. Julio had never scored in a regulation game. He paced off three steps and then waited for the signal. The Lakeshore goalie dug in. The whistle sounded and Julio moved toward the ball. He rolled a shot toward the the left corner of the net. The goalie reacted quickly and caught the ball before it crossed the goal line. Julio looked helplessly at his teammates. He had failed to break the tie.
 

Suddenly over the sounds of the cheering Lakeshore players, Julio heard the referee shouting something about a violation. The official came running toward Coach Budzinski waving his hands and blowing his whistle. He gestured at the two coaches, instructing them to meet with him in front of the goal. The three huddled in front of the net for a few minutes. As the meeting broke up, Coach Sommers violently kicked the grass and swore loudly. Coach Budzinski trotted back toward his players with a huge smile on his face. He clapped his hands and then shook his fist in the air. When he got back to his tight huddle of players, he explained that the Lakeshore goalkeeper had moved to get in position before the referee had blown his whistle. He wasn't set in position and therefore the shot had to be played over. Willowdale had another chance to win.
 

All eyes turned toward Julio. He paced nervously in front of the group. His sober expression couldn't conceal the tension he was feeling inside. “Get your shooter out here, Coach!” The referee shouted.
 

Buzzy patted Julio on the shoulder and said something in a voice too quiet for the other players to hear. Julio jogged stiffly toward the referee. “Come on, Julio, you can do it!” Joaquin yelled. Julio took his place behind the ball and waited for the referee's signal. When the whistle sounded, he moved slowly toward the ball. This time he hit the ball squarely with the inside of his foot. The ball stayed low and headed toward the right goal post. The Lakeshore keeper leaped toward the ball. He got a hand on it, but the spin on the ball caused it to jump and bounce toward the goal. There was no time for the goalie to get a second swipe at it. The ball bounded slowly into the net. Julio's eyes looked as big as tennis balls. The referee raised his hands to signal a goal.
 

Joaquin couldn't believe his eyes. Wild cheers and hollers erupted from the Willowdale players and from the fans in the bleachers. It was over. Willowdale had defeated Lakeshore. Tears were creeping down his cheeks as Joaquin threw his good arm around Julio. It looked like the team had just won the state championship. It seemed like everybody understood how much this game meant to Joaquin. Everyone shared in his excitement. Joaquin was so happy he didn't even think for a second about running over to say something nasty to Coach Sommers. That didn't matter anymore. His experience with that team was light years away now. He ran over to Coach Budzinski and shook his hand. He wanted to say something about the pep talk he had gotten earlier in the game, but no words came out. He found Cocoa and hugged her. She was soaked with perspiration. Joaquin was glad because he knew she wouldn't be able to feel his tears falling on her shoulder. He wished he could tell her how much he was inspired by the way she played. He wished he could thank her for knocking some sense into him in the first half. But all he could say was “We did it! We did it!”
 

By the time his parents and Jessica and Brian made it down on to the field, Joaquin was totally drained. The adrenaline had run out. The pain in his wrist came back in great throbbing surges. He looked around at the chaos in front of him. He saw Monte and Kari dancing in a circle with several players and fans. He wanted to join in, but he couldn't force his body to move. He slowly collapsed on the ground and simply absorbed the sights and sounds of the celebration. He was tired and sore, and the pain in his wrist was almost unbearable. But he was the happiest he had ever been in his life. The celebration lasted for nearly an hour.

 

Afterword

 

Willowdale's soccer season ended two days after the victory over Lakeshore. The Shamrocks dropped a close match in the regional finals to Clayton 2-1. Joaquin, of course, was unable to play because of a broken wrist. He stood on the sideline, however, barking out words of encouragement and cheering loudly every time his teammates made a solid save or a threatening run at the opponent's goal. He was no longer burdened with a blinding passion to get even with his old coach. Now, as Coach Budzinski had taught him, he saw soccer as a game to played for the sake of playing. He couldn't wait for his senior season. He knew he was going to savor every minute on the field. Joaquin had learned a great deal in the year and a half since he left San Diego. He realized that when it comes to soccer, it doesn't matter if you're a Mexican-American transfer student, a Wisconsin farm boy, a beautiful girl with long golden hair and big dark eyes, a wild-eyed skateboarder, or a sixty-year old janitor. The only thing that really matters is how you perform on the field.

During his senior year, Joaquin's team won nine games, lost three, and tied two. The Shamrocks made it all the way to the sectional finals before losing 2-1 in overtime. The chance to play in the state tournament would have been a great experience, but none of the players on the team hung their heads after losing. The coach and players had struggled through many conflicts in the efforts to build a team. They had succeeded in not only building a winning soccer program but also in earning and maintaining a feeling of pride and self-respect. Everyone on the team walked away a winner after that last game.