TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Cover

  Title Page

  Chapter 1: Bad News

  Chapter 2: Where’s the Coach?

  Chapter 3: You’ll Thank Me Later

  Chapter 4: Big City Attitude?

  Chapter 5: Coach Needs Help

  Chapter 6: Pylons and Drills

  Chapter 7: Not a Smart Choice

  Chapter 8: Coach Who?

  Chapter 9: A New Approach

  Author Bio

  Illustrator Bio

  Glossary

  Discussion Questions

  Writing Prompts

  Soccer Glossary

  Explore More

  Copyright

  Back Cover

  CHAPTER 1

  BAD NEWS

  Cameron Jones stood behind the sideline at midfield. The referee handed him the soccer ball to throw in toward the awaiting players. Three minutes remained in the game. Cameron’s team—the Royal Blues—were up 3–2 against the Cardinals. A win today would guarantee his team first place in the league.

  With the ball held firmly with both hands above his head, Cameron scanned the field. The Royals wore blue jerseys. The Cardinals wore red.

  Careful, Cameron told himself above the crowd noise. Careful.

  At least 200 people were watching the game from the stands. This was the premier league for Cameron’s age level, which consisted mostly of eighth graders.

  The stars of this league had bright futures. The best players were just a few years away from being fast-tracked to programs that led to college scholarships.

  That’s why he and his father spent at least half an hour each night on soccer drills, no matter what the weather was like. If it rained too hard, his father would move the cars out of the garage and make room for Cameron to practice there instead.

  In the end, it would pay off in a college scholarship. At least that’s what his father hoped.

  As Cameron looked for an open Royal, his father’s voice echoed in his head. Don’t try to do too much. Under pressure, it’s too easy to make a mistake. Play the odds. Play it safe.

  As if his father could read his mind, Cameron heard a familiar voice coming from the stands. “Smart choice, Cam!” his dad called out. “You can do it. Smart choice!”

  Cameron knew what that meant.

  Smart choices are easier to make than great plays. At least that’s what his dad always said. Make the smartest choice every time you have the ball. This will get you a college scholarship. Smart choices mattered.

  It’s why Cameron was on the Royal Blues. The coach was known for guiding players into making smart choices. They also had the best discipline and knew how to play as a team.

  Trouble was, Cameron was finding it hard to care. Soccer wasn’t fun anymore. It wasn’t like it used to be. The excitement was gone. Now it was just about making smart choices. But what did it matter if he no longer really wanted to play? Quitting was not an option.

  Refocusing on the game, Cameron took a deep breath. He reminded himself to keep both feet on the ground as he threw the ball.

  Another piece of his father’s advice played in his mind. Do it again and again so that it becomes routine in practice, because there is no such thing as routine in a pressure situation.

  Cameron looked for an open blue player. It wasn’t easy. The Cardinals clogged the middle of the field. This took away a direct attack. Other opposing players danced around the edges. They stuck close to Cameron’s teammates and took away any easy target.

  He faked a throw one way. Then he saw his teammate, Steve Martindale, break loose on the other side of the field.

  Steve stopped. He dashed forward, faked a move to the left. He then spun back. Steve was wide open. It would be a long throw, but it was doable. And it would set Steve up for a good attack on the net.

  But …

  They were up by a goal, with just a few minutes remaining in the game. All they needed to do was hold on to the ball until the final whistle.

  Cameron faked the throw again toward Steve, and then launched the ball into the back field, where another teammate was wide open.

  It was an easy play. It was also the smart choice.

  The Royal Blues ran down the clock, guaranteeing first place.

  That was the good news for Cameron, but he still didn’t feel very excited about the safe win.

  Soon after the game ended, his father met him in the parking lot.

  “Well played, Cam,” his father, James Jones, said. He still wore his suit from the office.

  They walked toward the car. His father paused and put a hand on Cameron’s shoulder. “Well, buddy, I wish I didn’t have to deliver this news after such a great game, but I’ve been transferred at work. We have to move to a small town named Evansville.”

  “What? Evansville?” Cameron stared at his father in confusion. “Where’s Evansville?”

  CHAPTER 2

  WHERE’S THE COACH?

  Two weeks later, Cameron stood alone along the sideline of the soccer field. It was Saturday morning, and he waited for practice to start with his new team. Practice was supposed to begin ten minutes ago, but there was no sign of the coach.

  He was not impressed by what he saw as a handful of boys began to gather on the field. To Cameron, they looked nothing like any soccer team he played with before.

  First off, nobody wore shirts that matched their shorts. In fact, none of their shirts or shorts even matched what any of the other players wore. Cameron’s old team had special practice uniforms. Here, it was like each player had just rolled out of bed and grabbed whatever they could find on the floor to wear.

  Second, there were no cones set up on the field for passing and shooting drills.

  Third, nobody was there to take the lead and organize the practice.

  Still no sign of the coach! Cameron thought. The growing group of players just stood around in small groups, laughing and joking. A few players were kicking around soccer balls.

  Back in the city where he played all his life, many teams needed to use the soccer field. Nobody would waste time like this during the few hours given for a practice session.

  Cameron told himself not to be surprised. It seemed that Evansville barely had more than two traffic lights. He should not expect much from the only team in the area that was in his age group. Especially after he and his father searched online to see if the coach and team were any good. They found out that the coach’s name was Kelly Harrison, but except for a game schedule, there were no search results for “Kelly Harrison + soccer + Evansville.”

  There was, however, a bright side to this. For the last year, he had been waiting for the right opportunity to quit soccer. Playing had stopped being fun. A team this bad would give him a good excuse. A safe exit that his father would hopefully accept.

  As this thought crossed his mind, Cameron couldn’t help feeling guilty. He looked out at the stands and saw his father. His dad would be so disappointed in him if he quit soccer.

  He was also surprised that with the exception of his father, the stands were empty. Back in the city, even for a practice, the stands would be filled with parents.

  Cameron turned back to face the field and saw a player walking toward him. He was tall and skinny and his blond hair stuck out in all directions. “Hey, I’m Drew Allen. You’re the new guy. Cameron, right? Coach told us to expect you. Welcome to the Blazers.”

  “Thanks,” Cameron said. “Um, where’s Mr. Harrison?”

  “Mr. Harrison? Our coach is not a mister,” Drew answered with a chuckle.

  Cameron was confused. Maybe this was the wrong team. No. Drew and the other players were expecting him. Still—

  “Coach Kelly Harrison,” Cameron said, almost asking as a question. “Over the phone, his wife told us just to show up.”

  She hadn’t even asked if Cameron had skills. She’d just said Cameron would be welcome to join the team. How good could the Blazers be if you didn’t need to try out for the team?

  Drew laughed. “Coach Kelly is a woman. You were probably talking to her! Easy to get confused, I guess, with a name that could belong to a male or female.”

  She? They had a woman coach? Cameron knew his dad preferred male coaches because he thought they were better at controlling players.

  “Oh,” Cameron said, trying to get over the fact that his coach was a woman. “Well … Where is she?”

  “She just got married and spends most Saturday mornings helping her husband run his home business,” Drew said. “She gets here when she gets here. Don’t worry though. She always shows up.”

  This did not sound like a coach who cared much about molding a team, Cameron thought.

  Drew pointed past Cameron. “She’s here now!”

  Cameron looked over his shoulder. Coach Kelly wore a silver and white tracksuit. She was medium height, with short blond hair and a big grin.

  “Hey everybody!” she shouted. “It’s shoe time! No drills this morning.”

  “Shoe time?” Cameron asked Drew.

  Drew was already bent over, pulling off one of his shoes.

  “Yeah.” He stood up holding the shoe. “We’re about to split into teams. We toss shoes into a pile and then divide the pile. Half will be wearing shirts. The other half plays without shirts. Makes it way easier to know who is on your team for our scrimmage.”

  Two sets of jerseys would do the same thing, Cameron thought. But he didn’t say anything as he bent over and untied his shoe.

  He hoped he would be playing o n the shirts team. The only part of his upper body that was tanned was his arms, and he didn’t want anyone to laugh at how pale everything else was.

  CHAPTER 3

  YOU’LL THANK ME LATER

  “Right there!” His dad jumped off the couch and pointed at the television screen. He hit the pause button on the remote.

  “Who is out of position?” he excitedly asked.

  Cameron and his dad were watching a World Cup game from a few years ago. France versus England. A midfielder had just passed the ball to a fellow teammate.

  Cameron scanned the screen. The camera had panned back, showing most of the field.

  “That midfielder for England,” Cameron said. “France has the ball. He should be marking his man. But he’s at least three steps away.”

  Marking his man. To his friends, Cameron might have said “guarding,” not “marking.” But his dad liked to be exact when it came to soccer, and that was the term used.

  “Well done,” said Dad. “Now keep watching.”

  Cameron’s dad hit reverse and paused again. “See that pass? Intercepted. Why?”

  Cameron had seen dozens of similar situations on the television. This is part of why it seemed like playing soccer was work, not fun. “The winger tried to be a hero. Long pass. If he makes it, the other winger gets to break loose. But he had a one in ten chance of making it.”

  “Maybe one in fifteen,” Dad countered.

  Cameron bit back his frustration. It seemed as if he never had the “right enough” answer for his dad. Did it make a difference whether it was one in ten or one in fifteen? Either way, any attempt by the player to go for the long shot was a risk not worth taking.

  “Scan the field again. Which was the safer pass?” Dad asked.

  That was obvious to Cameron. “Behind and to the right. Then the winger could have gone wide and forced the defenders to open up the field.”

  He heard applause behind him. Cameron grinned as he turned and looked at his mom who had just walked into the room. She was tall with shoulder-length brunette hair. She always seemed to be smiling.

  “He’s got this figured out, James,” she said. “Maybe you boys can help unpack now?”

  “Give us ten more minutes, Honey,” James answered. “You’ll thank me when our son gets a scholarship.”

  “Ten minutes and not a second more,” Cameron’s mom said as she turned and left the room.

  “Dad, about this scholarship stuff,” Cameron said as he faced his father. “I need to tell you something.”

  Maybe this would be the best time to tell his dad that he wasn’t sure if he wanted to work this hard at soccer. Especially since it looked like this small-town soccer program wasn’t that good.

  “No need to thank me yet,” his dad grinned. “Lots of work to do still.”

  Cameron loved his dad and hated the thought of disappointing him. He decided to wait for a better time to tell him he wanted to quit. He swallowed a sigh and said, “You bet.”

  His dad advanced the frames on the television and stopped again. “Look at what happens because the midfielder got caught out of position when the ball was intercepted by France. His fault?”

  Before Cameron could reply, his father answered. “Of course it was his fault. He should have played it safe. His pass didn’t work out. Keep watching this play out.”

  With the midfielder unable to stay with his man, France had a six on four advantage. Six attackers against four defenders. Moments later France scored. Game over.

  His dad shut off the television and settled back in the couch. “I’ve been thinking about what you said about today’s practice. Especially how undisciplined the team is.”

  “You were there,” said Cameron. “The coach was twenty minutes late. All we did was play a scrimmage the entire time. No drills. No practice of individual skills.”

  “I’ve made it clear I had no choice but to take the job transfer, right?” his dad continued.

  Cameron nodded his head.

  “So I can’t help the fact that you are playing on a low-grade team in the middle of nowhere. But I can help with the discipline. We need this team to succeed so that scouts will take notice. So I plan on talking to your coach and volunteer to help.”

  “Well …,” Cameron hesitated.

  “Don’t thank me until you get your college scholarship.” His dad chuckled again. “Right?”

  “Yeah,” Cameron said. He tried to show enthusiasm. His dad wanted so badly for Cameron to be a star. “Right.”

  “Great then,” his dad said as he got up from the couch. “Now let’s help Mom.”

  CHAPTER 4

  BIG CITY ATTITUDE?

  “Cam, buddy! Go get ’em!”

  It was his dad’s voice coming from the spectator stands behind him.

  Cameron was tying his shoe as the players got ready for the game to begin. Once done, he stood up and turned around to face the crowd.

  He saw his father giving him the thumbs-up sign. Cameron gave him one in return. He wasn’t sure if he felt it, though.

  He knew his father would be recording the match and commenting later on every choice Cameron made during the game.

  Cameron turned back to the field.

  “Hey, Cameron!” Drew yelled from midfield. “Ready?”

  Cameron trotted onto the field for their game against the Chargers. And just like that, his team’s orange jerseys and the Chargers’ purple jerseys were in motion.

  ***

  Five minutes left in the game, and the score was tied at two. This game wasn’t a do-or-die event for Cameron’s team. The Blazers only needed to win one of their last three games to make the playoffs. Still, it would be great to win today and be assured a place in the championship games.

  Cameron moved toward the other goal and sprinted for an open spot. He was clear!

  Blazers had the ball. Kyle Fenton dribbled toward a maze of players. He was the fastest runner on the team, and Cameron had been impressed by Kyle’s ball handling abilities.

  “Open,” Cameron called out.

  Kyle glanced up. There was an easy alley to advance the ball to Cameron. Kyle faked a pass, but he held on to the ball. He tried to make a move to beat the defender but lost the ball.

  The Chargers took over. Ten seconds later they scored a goal to lead by one.

  Cameron ran beside Kyle.

  “You didn’t see me?” Cameron asked, annoyed.

  “Win some, lose some,” Kyle answered. “Never know what’s going to work until you try it.”

  “I was open,” Cameron said, growing more frustrated. “It was the smart play.”

  “Don’t sweat it, Big City,” said Kyle.

  Big City? Cameron was surprised at Kyle’s tone of voice. Calling Cameron “Big City” came across as rude, as if Kyle was mad that Cameron had pointed out the smart play.

  “Just trying to help the team,” Cameron said.

  “How about you just relax then?” Kyle answered as he moved away. “We’re here to have fun. And there’s still plenty of time left in the game.”

  Cameron decided to focus on the ball instead of his feelings. The only good thing was that his dad would agree that Cameron had made the smart choice.

  About a minute later, his focus paid off when the ball popped loose in his direction.

  Cameron gathered it in, dribbled the ball, and moved slowly up the field, looking for an open man.

  There it was—an orange-shirt Blazer, with nobody from the other team covering. All that was needed was a short, easy pass. He soon realized the open player was Kyle.

  Cameron was tempted to hang on to the ball. But it was more important to make a smart choice. Set emotions aside, he told himself. Make the smart choice.

  Cameron could picture the play. Make a short, safe pass to advance the ball then get open for a return pass. He gave the ball a firm tap. It was a perfect pass.

  Cameron sprinted hard and found the opening. All Kyle needed to do was get him the ball and they’d have a good scoring chance.

  “Here!” Cameron shouted. “Here! I’m open!”

  Kyle glanced at him again, held on to the ball, and tried to beat two defenders by going between them.

  No surprise. Bad choice. Bad result. The Chargers took control of the ball. A minute later, the game ended with the Blazers on the losing end.

 

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