Cheap Shots

00:32

UNEDITED

32. 

            I wasn’t usually a nail biter, but there was something about witnessing the last few seconds of a tied second-round-sectionals game that drove me to the brink of insanity. 

            The other team had the ball, a scrawny looking girl who was wearing a bright pink 80’s like hair scrunchie in her frizzy hair, and she was dribbling down the field right towards our goalie, the time on the clock down to ten seconds. 

            I bit down hard on my thumb as she entered the circle and smacked the ball so hard the hollow sound echoed throughout the whole field. 

            It went right in the corner; our goalie didn’t stand a chance. 

            Everyone froze for a few seconds as the clock screamed, indicating the other teams victory, and soon, the previously quiet field was buzzing with cheers. 

            I turned to look for Tess or Jacque in the crowd of our saddened players.  Finally spotting them hugging towards the back of the crowd, I ran towards them as fast as I could with a fractured foot. 

            “I didn’t imagine us going down this way.”

            Tess was crying.

            She had black streaks running down her face, blending messily in a frenzy of black makeup and tears.  I reached in and hugged her, the finality of our season hitting me just as hard.

            “This was our last game, ever!  We’ll never play field hockey together again, I can’t believe we didn’t defend that girl, she just ran down like she owned the fucking place, that bitch-“

            I laughed a little, but I could feel the tears forming in my eyes as well.   “I know, Tess.  Believe me, I’d have given anything to be on that field with you guys.”

            A loud sob escaped her throat.

            Jacque had started crying as well and she was desperately trying to stop the flow of tears by wiping her cheeks furiously with the back of her hand. 

            “Our last game,” she said.

            “Everyone bring it in!”   Our coach yelled loudly, trying to be heard over the sound of the other team’s never-ending cheering.

            They were starting to line up to shake our hands.

            I wiped whatever tears were beginning to blind my vision, and I pulled Tess and Jacque with me to the line of our teammates, most of who weren’t even bothering to wipe the tears off their faces.

            “Good game,” we said in unison as we walked to meet the other team. 

            As we all trudged back to our post game meeting place, Coach took a knee, indicating that we all do the same.  “I’ll have to admit-“ she started, looking at the ground, “You guys played one hell of a game out there.  The effort was there until the last few seconds, and I’m giving you credit for that.”

            A lone person clapped.

            Coach cleared her throat.  “I know this isn’t how you seniors imagined finishing off the season, but you played your hearts out through every game.  Be proud of that.”