"Where is he?", Lance asked his friend as he squinted at the small football pitch. "Can't see him."
"Over there," Rex said, pointing to a young boy wearing the No. 11 shirt.
"Oh yeah? He sure looks like Diego Maradona."
"A bit taller, though," Rex shrugged as he gulped the rest of his water.
Lance laughed at the remark and leaned back to enjoy the game which was just about to begin. They were among other parents, guardians and family members seated in the stands, watching their little men play in the school's football practice match. Lance and Rex had been coaching Rex's little brother, Chase, for weeks and they had promised to drop by to cheer him on and watch him score as many goals as he could.
"Go get 'em, Chase!", Rex hailed and hooted from the stands as the whistle was blown for kick-off.
But trouble began immediately. He and Lance kept their eye on Chase as he tried to fight off an opponent who was trying to steal the ball from him. Play was stopped as Chase unwittingly stamped his hand on the opponent's face. The coach came forward to talk to both players.
"I tell him he'll kill someone with that right hand one day," Rex said, shaking his head.
"Takes after his brother," Lance said, referring to Rex's right cross that had gotten them out of many a brawl unscathed.
There was no response from his friend. The game continued and they both watched in silence, hoping to see Chase put to use the tricks they had taught him.
"Foul! Penalty!", Rex shouted, jumping to his feet as one of his brother's teammates was brought down in the box.
"I just hope they'll let Chase take it," he murmured as he sat back down, satisfied that the penalty had finally been awarded.
"Don't worry. They ain't got a better striker," Lance assured. Both boys watched keenly as the coach gave the captain of the fouled side the opportunity to pick the player that would take the penalty. The young defender was undecided for a while, but finally settled on a lanky midfielder.
"Fuck!", Rex swore as he saw that his brother was not the chosen one.
"Relax," Lance admonished. "The kid could score."
"If the wind don't take him off the pitch first."
The lanky boy picked the ball, positioned it properly and took his place behind it. He seemed very confident as he faced the goalkeeper who was nervously jumping up and down, trying to prep himself for the shot. Even though Chase was not the one taking the penalty, Lance and Rex were on the edge of their seats, anxiously watching the proceedings. Some of the other parents and relatives were hooting and shouting words of encouragement and advice from the stands.
One woman wearing the colors of the school team, whom Lance suspected to be the midfielder's mother, was at the head of the gang, egging the penalty taker at the top of her lungs.
Finally, the whistle was blown and the midfielder moved a few paces back, took a deep breath and began the little run to the spot. The entire venue went silent as everyone watched. Most people, Lance and Rex included, had their mouths open as they watched in total concentration. Rex could not notice and Lance could not feel his friend's nails digging into his knee as Rex held on tight in anticipation.
The midfielder reached the spot and lashed out with his left foot, sending the ball flying toward the left side of the net. But the goalkeeper must have known him quite well because he dove in that same direction, punching the ball back into the field before it could cross the goal line. The boy stood rooted to the spot in surprise as he watched the goalkeeper save his shot, but the rest of the team were not with him in his inaction.
From nowhere, the wearer of the No. 11 shirt deployed a strong right foot, hitting the ball before it could hit the pitch and sending a fiery shot into the back of the net, giving the goalkeeper absolutely no chance. Immediately, the stands went alive with celebration, much more celebration than the players themselves could muster.
Lance and Rex were on their feet, jumping like five-year olds who had just been presented with the greatest gift of their lives. Everyone was happy and proud, even supporters of the trailing team clapped. Only two women, Lance could see, were not looking very happy. They were seated side by side, several seats away from the boys. When the goalkeeper had saved the first shot, they had been the first to celebrate, but after the goal, they looked like people in mourning. Perhaps they were related to the goalkeeper? But wait... there was something familiar about the little girl seated on the knee of one of the women. Lance craned his neck, trying to gain a better view, but Rex was hitting him excitedly, trying to get his attention.
"Look look, that style we taught him.. he's using it! Come on, look at that! Go, little man! Give 'em hell! Get a hartrick!"
"Not in a thousand years," a voice from behind said, startling the boys. They turned around to see a 40-ish blonde woman smiling at them.
"My Frank won't give 'em the chance. He's the left back," she added by way of explanation.
"If he was that good, he would've known not to bring down a man in the box," Rex shot back.
"He'll learn from his mistake. It won't happen again."
"Well, we're still leading."
"Frank's a good scorer too."
Rex heard her alright, but he said nothing, choosing to turn his attention back to the game instead. The match was looking more like an inter-school competition than an intra-school practice match. Lance knew that if the woman was just another young man, her last statement could have led to more than just silence on Rex's part. Nevertheless, the match went on unperturbed and supporters of both teams took turns trying to drown one another's voice in the cheering of their respective teams.
***
When the match finally ended, Lance went with Rex to congratulate Chase on his side's 2-1 win. Chase had gotten a brace and an own goal from a defender had given the opposing side a consolation goal.
While Rex was hard at work giving his brother useful tips on how he could work his way to becoming Captain of the school team, Lance thought it the right time to go hunt for some snacks. That was when he caught sight of the girl who was with the two women in the stands. Sure enough, they were talking with the goalkeeper, consoling him it seemed. The little girl turned slightly, showing her face to Lance. It was Lisa! She saw him and waved, showing her incomplete teeth before alerting her mother to his presence.
"Mommy, look. Over there."
Lance prayed the ground beneath him would just break open to receive him and hide him from Cara's notice. But nevertheless, he watched in trepidation as Cara looked in the direction Lisa was pointing. Their eyes had hardly met when Cara jerked her face away. She didn't look in that direction again until Lance had walked off.