Kick by Walter Dean Myers Read Free Book Online Page A

we ran onto the field, ready to play our first State Cup game. Since Mom was at work, Sergeant Brown had driven my grandma and me to the game. He had called to see if I needed a ride and I told him I was going with Cal. Of course I ended up going with him.
    I was happy to be a starter, and I was glad Coach Hill was still letting me play. I didn’t want Sergeant Brown to come to the game to watch me sit. I wasn’t sure exactly how I felt about him, but I still wanted to impress him.
    I had watched East Ridge practice before. They had dynamite uniforms. They were the kind of team that really looked good until they started playing.
    â€œEvery one of them is big,” I told Sergeant Brown. “They look like tenth graders.”
    â€œYour team have a chance?” he asked.
    Yeah, we had more than a chance. I could probably outrun anyone on East Ridge, but I didn’t know how good their goalkeeper was.
    We lined up in our 4-4-2 formation, with four defen-ders, four midfielders, and two forwards. I started at forward with Ricky. My stomach felt jumpy like it always did before every game. I didn’t know how I was going to be able to run.
    East Ridge started with the ball. The ref blew the whistle. They passed the ball back toward their defenders, and I immediately sprinted upfield to get into position. There was no sense in chasing after the ball while their defenders played with it in the back. I needed to conserve my energy.
    They started off playing better than I expected. They were using their size to their advantage, and playing dirty, too. As soon as one of our players got the ball, he would be lost in a swarm of red. They were deliberately stepping on our guys and pushing us down with body contact. Our guys started hesitating to take on a player, so East Ridge would pass the ball right back to the player who sent it to them as soon as they got it. The ref called them on a few fouls, but not as many as he should have. My mind wandered back to the arrest, but I tried to stay focused.
    I stayed on number 7, the last defender before their goalie, so if my team got the ball, they could play it over the defenders to me and I could run on to it. About fifteen minutes into the game, East Ridge received a corner kick. They immediately went into their set corner kick positions. Our team lined up in the box around the goal, matching up against their attackers.
    â€œCut the pushing and shoving!” the ref yelled.
    I was getting into the game and forgot about my stomach.
    The corner kick landed straight in the middle of the box. Cal jumped up and headed it out.
    We were on the offensive. Alex, one of our two center midfielders, took control of the loose ball. The East Ridge defenders scrambled to get back. There was space for a pass, and I yelled for the ball between the defenders. I made sure I wasn’t offside. Alex had great peripheral vision and saw me with my hand raised. The pass was beautiful, right through a hole between two defenders into the open field. I took off, sprinting past the other two defenders. It was just the goalie and me.
    Low and into the corners. Nothing fancy, Kev, just fake in and cut out.
    I slowed down as I approached the goalie, who had come out of his box. I faked a shot and took it outside to the right with the outside of my foot. I thought I had beaten him, when he dove down and grabbed the ball. I tried to kick it away from him, but he held on tight. I was so frustrated, I kept kicking the ball even though the goalie had his arms wrapped around it.
    â€œEnough! Number thirteen, the goalie has possession of the ball,” the ref said.
    â€œC’mon, Kevin, at least get a shot off!” Coach yelled. I wanted to ask Coach Hill if he could come out on the field and do any better.
    Another corner kick and an East Ridge player, taller than anyone on our team, went up and headed the ball into the net.
    Losing 1–0. Coach sat us down.
    â€œYou’re taking it to