Top Wing (3 page)

His aim was off. The ball hit a goalpost and rebounded in an arc over Dana’s head.

Dana turned to see if Benton was in position to stop the ball from traveling far upfield. With a thud, it landed directly
in front of the right halfback. All he had to do was dribble it to one side and he’d be in a good position to pass.

But Benton had turned away from the action. It looked as though he was coughing. The ball went right by him. Fortunately Jack
was close enough to make a lunge for it. He scooped it away before the Cottoneers could claim it.

“Jack!” called Dana. “Jack, on your right!”

Dana could see a couple of Cottoneer uniforms closing in on the Anchor halfback. Benton was nearby, though, and managed to
grab on to a short pass with the instep of his left foot. He dribbled the ball downfield, looking for a teammate in the clear.

Once again, Dana was the logical choice. And once again, Benton went his own way. Only this time, he had barely moved when
a Cottoneer tackler
got in the way. In no time at all, the ball was skyrocketing back toward the Anchors’ goal.

Dana was about to shout at Benton when he saw him lean over, hands on his knees, panting for breath.

The first half’s not even over, and he’s already winded, Dana thought. He’ll never make it through the game.

There was no time to worry about Benton. The ball was loose at midfield. There was a wild scramble. The same tackler who’d
stolen it from Benton had it now. He was getting set for a pass to one of the Cottoneer wings.

Dana made his move. He rushed right into the ball’s path and caught it smack on the side of his head. It hit him so hard,
he was stunned for a second. When his head cleared, he saw that his block hadn’t done much good. The impact had knocked it
out of bounds.

The Cottoneer halfback threw the ball in from the sideline. One of the biggest guys in a green-and-yellow uniform wrenched
it loose from the tangle of stabbing legs and booted it toward the Anchors’ goal.

But Jazz was on his toes. He caught the ball in midair and quickly put it back into play, aiming it for Abe.

The Anchors’ left wing was a little slow getting to the ball. A Cottoneer intercepted and sent the ball back toward the goal.
It got as far as the penalty area, where fullback Tucker Fromm went after it. There was a race between him and the Cottoneers’
speedy right wing. They reached the ball at the same time. Each tried to shake it loose, kicking and stumbling in the attempt.
Dana could only watch as their arms flapped wildly at their sides and their legs got all tangled up.

For a second, it seemed that Tucker had the upper edge. He had managed to nudge the ball to one side when another Cottoneer
cut in and stole it away.

Coach Kingsley was shouting from the Anchors’ bench, “Defense! Defense!”

The Cottoneers’ coach was yelling, “Kick! Kick!”

Then a whistle blew, and the first half of the game was over.

The Cottoneers had the lead: 1 – 0.

“Down by one,” Dana grumbled out loud as he
ran toward the bench. He noticed that Benton, a few feet to one side, was giving him an icy scowl.

“What’s that look for?” asked Dana. “It wasn’t my fault they scored.”

“Lucky they didn’t get another,” said Abe, coming between the two of them. “You practically gave them the ball with that head
block.”

“You’re nuts!” Dana protested. “It almost took my head off! It’s not like I messed up a pass or something!”

“Knock it off, you guys,” said the coach. “Gather round.”

The Anchors formed a small circle around him. They passed orange slices and water around. The coach let them catch their breath
and cool off. Then he spoke up.

“You’re playing it too tight,” he said. “You’re not spreading out and looking for opportunities. ‘Heads up’ means just that
— keeping your eyes open. And working together. You have to start acting like a team. Got that?”

“Got it!”

“Rah!”

“Go, Anchors!”

The cheers rang out as the second half began.

Within a few seconds of play, the Anchors had moved the ball deep into Cottoneer territory. Abe, Steve, and Dana passed the
ball among themselves, looking for an opening.

For a minute, it looked like Steve would get a chance to score. But a fast-moving Cottoneer made a move between him and the
goal, blocking his path. Another defenseman worked his way over and wriggled the ball away. A quick kick started the ball
back upfield toward the Anchors’ goal.

“Behind you, Dana! Behind you!”

He whirled around as Steve’s voice broke through. The ball had ricocheted off a Cottoneer and was sizzling on the ground toward
him. It was going so fast, he barely was able to stop it. But he stuck out his foot, blocked the ball, then spun around toward
the goal.

Two fullbacks in green and yellow came charging toward him. He had to move fast. He spotted Steve darting toward the goal.

Dribbling the ball to his left, he suddenly shifted his position and booted the ball over toward the middle of the field.

Steve was waiting for it. He trapped it with the inside of his left foot and began to dribble it toward the goal.

But two Cottoneers were in the way. They charged at him from opposite directions.

Abe tried to help out, but he was trapped. Dana was closer to Steve than any of the other Anchors. He made for the right side
of the goal and yelled, “Steve!”

The Anchor captain squeezed out a pass in his direction. Dana ran straight at it and booted it toward the goal. He hoped it
would get by an open space to the left, beyond the reach of the Cottoneer goalie.

The ball just missed.

It struck a goalpost and bounced off to the left side of the field, way out of play.

Dana’s heart sank.

He couldn’t remember when missing a goal had felt so bad.

D
own in front of the stands, the Anchors’ cheer-leaders did their best to lift the team’s spirits.

Come on Anchors,

Really dig in,

Show ’em you’re the team

That’s going to win!

Anchors! Anchors!

Sis! Boom! Bah!

Anchors! Anchors!

Hip! Hip! Hoorah!

As play continued, Dana didn’t feel much like cheering. But he couldn’t give up now. There was too much at stake.

The Cottoneers controlled the ball for a long time without scoring. For a while it looked as though the Anchors’ defense would
wear them down. Anchors fullback Paul Crayton, who hadn’t seen much action in the first half, had come alive. It seemed as
though he was everywhere now.

“Way to go, Paul!” Dana called after a good block, which gave the Anchors control of the ball. Paul booted it out of the penalty
area.

Dana made a move for it, but Steve got there ahead of him. At least part of him did. The ball bounced off his right hip and
rolled over toward Dana.

By now, the Cottoneers were beginning to advance toward the Anchors’ right wing. He saw he wasn’t going to move very far with
the ball. Looking around, he saw Benton, all by himself, down in the penalty area.

Dana knew he should pass it to him. An assist that resulted in a goal was almost as good as a score. But the memory of Benton
stealing the ball from him earlier made him hesitate.

He waited one second too long. In that time, Cottoneers were all over Benton and the coast was no longer clear. Instead, Dana
passed the ball to Jack,
who came running up beside him, one step ahead of a Cottoneer tackler. Jack trapped the ball with his instep, then passed
it right back to him.

Dana was surprised by the quick return, but he took the ball, dribbled it a few feet, then got it within kicking distance
of the goal — while a Cottoneer tackler was breathing down his neck. Suddenly their legs got tangled up with each other. The
tackler fell and the whistle shrieked.

“Tripping!” yelled the referee. Dana saw him pointing a stiff finger in his direction.

He couldn’t believe it. The Cottoneer was as much at fault as he was! Still, he knew you couldn’t argue with a referee and
win. He shook his head but kept his mouth shut.

A free kick was called. Because the foul had occurred within the defending team’s penalty area, all players had to be outside
the area. Dana tried to guess where the Cottoneer would aim his kick and positioned himself nearby.

Well, at least I didn’t cost the team a goal, Dana said to himself, eyes on his opponent.

He spoke too soon. The Cottoneer booted the ball to a teammate centerfield. The receiving player
didn’t waste any time booting it even farther down-field toward the Anchors’ territory.

The Cottoneers’ speedy center got behind the ball and dribbled quickly toward the goal. He faked around Pete Morris into the
penalty area. Jazz shifted back and forth, arms spread wide, but the lanky center was too quick for him. A sharp kick sent
the ball straight into the net.

Cottoneers 2, Anchors 0.

“Teamwork! Teamwork!” shouted Coach Kingsley from the bench.

There didn’t seem to be a lot of that happening on the Anchors’ side of the field.

“Okay, guys, heads up!” shouted Dana as the ball came into play.

For a few minutes, it looked as though the tide might turn. Jack got the ball and dribbled it toward the goal. When the Cottoneers
closed in on him, he passed it to Lance.

Lance did some fancy footwork and kept the ball moving in the right direction. When he got into trouble, he passed it across
the field to Benton.

Benton brought the ball well within scoring range, but couldn’t seem to find an opening for a
goal attempt. Dana tried to get his attention, but he couldn’t catch Benton’s eye. Instead, Benton booted the ball over to
Steve.

Who could argue with that? Steve was the best goal kicker on the team, after all.

But Steve was also a real team player. Dana could see that there wasn’t an opening between Steve and the goal. Sure enough,
Steve kept it moving, passing it to Jack. Jack tried to get off a kick toward the goal, but the ball got into a tangle of
Cottoneer defense-men. When it bobbled free, it was right in front of Dana.

The Anchors’ right wing didn’t hesitate. He booted it. Hard.

Goal!

A cheer went up from the stands.

The scoreboard now read Cottoneers 2, Anchors 1.

But the clock was still running. There was no time to waste on congratulations if the Anchors were going to win.

They hurried upfield to get ready for the kick. As Dana jogged by Benton to get into position, Benton suddenly doubled over
in a fit of coughing. Concerned,
Dana stopped and thumped Benton lightly on the back.

“Hey, are you okay?” he said.

Benton shook off Dana’s arm abruptly and stood up. He glared at Dana and sneered, “Lot you care!” Then he stalked off to his
place on the field.

Stunned, Dana almost didn’t hear the ref’s whistle signaling the kickoff. Then he didn’t have time to think because the ball
was in play.

The kick was short but high in the air. It landed smack in the middle of the Cottoneers’ forward line. They were so set to
rush forward, it took them by surprise. That gave the Anchors a chance to press their defense.

The ball rolled around, booted and bumped by several players before Lance got hold of it. He had stayed away from the scramble
and had been in the clear.

Lance dribbled it toward the Cottoneers’ goal for a few feet before passing it to Jack.

But Jack didn’t get far with it before a Cottoneer halfback moved in on him.

Dana had run down beside Jack and was open on his right side.

“Over here!” called Dana.

By now, two more Cottoneers were approaching Jack. The Anchor midfielder had to get rid of the ball. He passed it over to
Dana on his right side.

The pass was high. Dana trapped it with his chest. He let it drop to his feet, then dribbled it away from the swarm in the
middle of the field.

He was a few feet in from the touchline, looking around for an open Anchor receiver downfield.

From the corner of his left eye, he saw a Cottoneer come sweeping toward him with determination. Dana could almost hear the
enemy’s thoughts: Nothing was going to stop him from stealing the ball!

The Anchor wing swiveled to avoid the steal — but another Cottoneer appeared out of nowhere between him and the touchline.
A fast-moving foot in a green stocking snagged the ball away. The happy Cottoneer then booted it in the other direction, toward
the Anchors’ goal.

But the ball didn’t get more than five feet before Benton was on top of it. He trapped it with the inside of his left foot.

Benton couldn’t move with it. A Cottoneer lurking to his blind side rushed over and went for the ball.

“Bent! Here!” Dana shouted.

The distance between them was just about ten feet — and it was clear now.

Dana waved furiously. All Benton had to do was boot the ball to him. He had a good chance to send it way down toward the goal.

And time was running out.

But Benton acted as though he hadn’t even heard Dana. He passed the ball in the other direction.

Abe was the only one of the Anchors with a chance to grab it. He nearly had it when a Cottoneer rushed in front of him. The
ball bounced off the defender’s thigh and hurtled toward Tucker.

There was a hurried scramble for the ball. So many players were all over each other, Dana expected to hear a penalty called
any second.

But the Cottoneer offense managed to shake it loose and move it toward the Anchors’ goal.

Once again, the Anchors’ defense had to dig in.

They did their best and ended up blocking two goal kicks from the penalty area. But Cottoneer captain Russ Anderson couldn’t
be kept down. Time and again he broke away from the pack. He was all by himself, just ten yards from the goal line when the
ball was passed to him.

It looked as though there was no way to keep him from scoring this time.

He booted the ball toward an open space to Jazz’s right.