The Ball Hogs

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Authors: Rich Wallace

Tags: #Ages 7 & Up

BOOK: The Ball Hogs
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By Rich Wallace
for younger readers:

Sports Camp

Kickers:

#1 The Ball Hogs
#2 Fake Out
#3 Benched
#4 Game-Day Jitters

THE BOBCATS

Team Roster

Contents

Other Books by This Author

Title Page

The Bobcats

Chapter One - Like a Real Player

Chapter Two - Spoiling the Game

Chapter Three - Broken Rules

Chapter Four - A Wasted Recess

Chapter Five - The Opening Game

Chapter Six - Tough Competition

Chapter Seven - A Second Chance?

Chapter Eight - Back in the Loop

Chapter Nine - Three Points

Chapter Ten - Holding His Ground

Chapter Eleven - Breaking a Sweat

About the Author

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE
Like a Real Player

“That kid is fast!” Ben said as a tall, thin boy ran across the soccer field.

“He sure is,” said Erin. “I hope he’s on our team.”

“He must be,” said Ben. “Why else would he be here?”

But Ben hoped that the kid was not on their team. He had seen him at recess during school. Ben knew the kid’s name was Mark, and he was
a pain, and bossy. Once he’d called Ben “brush head” after his mom had cut his hair.

But Ben liked his hair the new way. When it was longer, it would always get in his eyes.

Ben put his foot on top of his soccer ball and rolled it around. “Let’s practice,” he said. He gave the ball a kick and it rolled toward Erin.

Erin kicked at the ball, but it didn’t go to Ben. It spun over to the side.

Ben ran toward the ball, but the tall kid got to it first. He stopped it with his foot and grinned at Ben. But Ben didn’t like the way he was smiling. He looked tough. He was big for nine.

“Are you one of the Bobcats?” Mark asked.

“Yes,” Ben said. “So is she.” Ben nodded toward Erin, who was walking over.

“I hope you’re good at dribbling,” Mark said. “You’re both kind of short. Especially her.” Mark pointed at Erin. She was a few inches shorter than Mark, but she was a good athlete.

Ben stepped between Mark and Erin. “This is our first time playing on a soccer team,” he said. “We don’t know if we’re good at it or not.”

“Well, I’m good,” Mark said. “I’ll be the star of this team.”

Ben looked at Erin and smiled. He felt nervous and didn’t know what else to do. Practice hadn’t even started yet, and Mark was already acting like a big shot.

A woman in a green T-shirt blew a whistle. “Over here, Bobcats,” she said. “I’m your coach.”

Eight kids ran toward the woman, who was carrying a net bag filled with soccer balls. “Have any of you ever played soccer?” she asked.

Several of the kids raised their hands.

“On a real team?” she asked.

Most of the kids put their hands down.

“That’s okay,” she said. “I’ve never coached a real team, either.”

Mark’s hand shot up again. “I was on a baseball team last summer,” he said. “I was the best player.”

“That’s good,” the woman said. “My name is Patty. I played soccer in high school, but that
was a long time ago. We’ll all have fun learning about the game together.”

The Kickers League would include kids from all over town. Ben knew most of the players on his team from Kennedy Elementary School, but some of them went to Washington Elementary, on the other side of town.

Coach Patty opened the bag and handed out balls. Ben kept his own ball, which had been a present for his ninth birthday.

“Let’s have a race,” Coach said. “See that white line on the far end of the field? When I blow my whistle, we’ll all run to that line. The winner is the one who gets there first, but you have to have your ball with you. And the only way you can move the ball is with your feet.”

They set their soccer balls on the ground.

“I’ll win by a mile,” said Mark.

Patty blew the whistle. Ben kicked his ball and ran after it, trying to keep it in a straight
line. It wasn’t easy. He kicked it a little more softly, then ran to it and kicked it again.

Mark was way ahead of the others. He had kicked his ball far up the field and was running after it at full speed.

Ben kept moving, kicking his ball a little at a time and then catching up to it. He knew he could run a lot faster, but it was tricky to keep the ball close to him.

Ben’s last kick left the ball just over the
line. He pulled it back with one foot and stood on the line as the others came running up.

“Looks like you’re the winner,” Coach Patty said to Ben.

“He is not!” said Mark. “I was much faster than he was.”

“But your ball went so far past the line that you had to chase after it,” Patty said. “The point was to keep the ball with you.”

Mark made a sour face and stared at Ben. “If it had been a real race, I would have won easily.”

“Well, we’re not here for a track meet,” Coach said. “We’re here to play soccer.”

“I know that,” Mark said. “You’ll see. I’ll be way better than that kid.” He pointed at Ben.

Ben looked away. He wished more than ever that Mark was not on this team.

Ben wiped his forehead with his hand. He was starting to sweat from that running, and his heart was beating faster. That was a good
feeling; it made him feel like an athlete. He took a deep breath and smelled the freshly cut grass.

There was a lot to like about soccer already. Everything except Mark.

For the rest of the afternoon, Coach had them work mostly on controlling the ball and passing. After practice, Ben and Erin started to walk home. They lived on the same block, just a few houses away from each other.

“Wait up!” yelled Mark.

Ben turned with a scowl. “What do you want?” he asked.

“I told you I’d be the best,” Mark said.

“You weren’t the best. There were a lot of good players here.”

“Well, I was better than you,” Mark said.

A car horn beeped, and Mark turned to look. “That’s my mom,” he said. “I’ll see you twerps next time.” And he ran off.

“He acts tough, doesn’t he?” Erin said.

Ben just nodded. A guy like that could spoil all the fun this season.

Erin stopped walking and undid her shin guards. “These are a little uncomfortable,” she said.

“I’m leaving mine on,” Ben said. If anyone saw him walking home, he wanted them to know he was a soccer player. Of course, he was carrying his ball, too, but lots of kids had soccer balls. The shin guards made him look like a real player.

“You’ll get used to them,” Ben said.

“I hope so,” said Erin. “I barely noticed them during practice, but they did start poking my skin after a while.”

“Soccer players are
tough,”
Ben said with a smile. “Can’t let a little thing like a stinging shin stop us.”

“Oh, sure, you’re real tough,” Erin said,
teasing. “Remember the other day when a spider was spinning a web from your bicycle to the fence? You had to get your brother to chase it off.”

“It was a big spider,” Ben said. He was a little embarrassed, but he laughed at himself anyway. “Maybe it was poisonous.”

“It wasn’t poisonous.”

“Well, it was
big,”
Ben said. “I thought Larry might want to study it. That’s why I had him come out.”

“Sure you did, Mr. Tough Guy.”

“Larry wants to be a scientist.”

“I’m sure he could find his own spiders to study if he wanted.”

They were nearly home. Ben stopped walking and tossed his soccer ball into the air. As it came down, he tried to catch it on his thigh and bounce it again, but it fell off to the side. Ben had seen some high school kids practicing
that type of juggling. Some of them could keep the ball in the air for several minutes at a time. That was a skill he was eager to learn, but it certainly wasn’t easy.

They’d reached Erin’s house. “I’ll see you tomorrow at school,” she said. “Don’t let the spiders bite.”

“Bye.”

Spiders didn’t really bother Ben very much. He
was
tough. At least he thought he was. Being around Mark today had made him feel sort of weak and puny. But he wouldn’t let that get to him. He’d show Mark who was the better player.

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