Hat Trick by Alex Morgan Read Free Book Online

substitutions at all. Jamie scored a goal against the Gazelles. Before the second quarter started, Coach waved to the bench.
    â€œSasha, in for Stephanie. Jessi, you’re in for Kelly.”
    I high-fived Jessi as she took to the field. If I couldn’t play, at least I could cheer on Jessi.
    The second quarter started off with one of the Gazelles sweeping down the field and scoring a goal against the Griffons.
    â€œCourtney, take a break!” Coach Darby called out. “Kristin, you’re on goal.”
    Play resumed, and that was when I noticed that things started getting a little intense. One of the Gazelle defenders face-planted in the grass, and I was sure that Sasha had tripped her. Then one of the Gazelles had the ball, and I saw Jamie push her with her shoulder as she tried to get the ball!
    Where is the yellow card? I wondered. If the ref had seen Jamie push another player, he would have given her a yellow card—a warning for rough play or unsportsmanlike conduct. A second warning would get Jamie out of the game.
    I couldn’t call for a yellow card out loud, though, because I didn’t want a penalty against my own team, even if it was deserved.
    Then Jessi had control of the ball, and she took it right down the center of the field.
    â€œGo, Jessi, go!” I yelled.
    Then, out of nowhere . . . wham! One of the Gazelles side tackled her, and Jessi fell to the ground! I couldn’t believe it. I heard a ref’s whistle.
    â€œBut I tripped!” the Gazelle said, but the ref wasn’t buying it.
    â€œAt least there’s some justice,” Zarine said to me, and Sarah nodded solemnly next to her.
    Right then I figured that my fears were right: Coach Darby wasn’t the only coach in the winter league who expected rough play from her team.
    â€œJessi, you all right?” Coach Darby asked.
    Jessi jumped to her feet. “I’m okay, Coach!”
    There were no more scores in the second quarter, and so when halftime came, I was itching to get onto the field. My right leg was bouncing up and down like it had a mind of its own. But when Coach called out the positions, she didn’t say my name, and Jessi was back on the bench.
    â€œThis is ridiculous,” I complained as the third quarter began. “I want to play!”
    â€œShe’s got to call you in,” Jessi said.
    Sasha scored in the third quarter, and we were looking good going into the fourth. But then things kind of fell apart. Jamie, Sasha, and some of the midfielders were taking long journeys down the field, not passing even when others were clearly open. The Gazelle defense kept getting the ball from us, and they managed to score twice in the first five minutes of the last quarter.
    Coach Darby turned to the bench, and I thought, This is it! She’s sending me in!
    â€œZarine, sub for Tracey,” Coach Darby said. I waited for her to say more, but that was it.
    â€œSorry,” Zarine said to me before she jogged out onto the field.
    I wanted to melt into the bench. Not playing stank worse than dirty gym socks. And now I had my teammates feeling sorry for me too. It felt terrible—and my ego had taken a hit.
    The Gazelles ended up beating us, 3–2, and everyone on the Griffons looked pretty miserable as we slapped hands with the Gazelles.
    â€œYou can do better than this, Griffons!” Coach Darby said when we came back to the sidelines.
    Yeah, I know, I felt like saying. I can do a lot better than sitting on a stupid bench!
    Then Coach dismissed us, and Dad walked up to me and Jessi.
    â€œI see what you mean about the super-aggressive playing,” Dad said.
    Jessi made a face and grabbed her side. “Yeah, I’m still smarting from that tackle.”
    Dad didn’t mention me being benched, and I was glad, because I didn’t feel like talking about it. In fact, I didn’t feel like talking about anything the whole ride home.
    Then it hit me—when the