Making the Save (2 page)
“Anyone want to help me make the lemonade stand?” Dewey asked. Lou Barnes and Jerry Dinh volunteered.
“C’mon, Alan.” Jason grabbed Alan Minter’s arm and pulled him along. “Let’s go find some lemons.” Alan followed him out of the yard. That left Bucky, Bundy, and Stookie.
“Wanna start rounding up some buckets?” Bundy asked. Bucky nodded, but Stookie rolled his eyes.
“I gotta get going,” he said, pocketing his game. “See you at practice tomorrow.” He threw a leg over his bike and disappeared around the corner.
“That Stookie,” Bundy said. “He can be such a spoilsport.”
“Yeah,” Bucky said. “He’s a really good player and all. But you know what? I sometimes hope we’re not on the same team next year.”
T
hat night, Bucky lay in bed listening to a light rain on the roof and imagining the coach taking the jacket out of the gift box and slipping it on.
Suddenly, Bucky sat up.
What if it doesn’t fit?
he thought frantically. He flopped back down to think about the problem. As his head hit the pillow, the tag on his pajama top scratched his neck. His mother usually cut off the tags, but she had forgotten this time. The night was hot, so Bucky decided to sleep without his shirt. He struggled out of it and started to toss it on the floor. Then he stopped.
The tag!
he thought happily, staring at his pajama top.
That’s it!
He snuggled back into his bed. Tomorrow, if he was clever, he could find the answer he needed.
After the night’s rain, the next morning turned out to be warm and sunny. Bucky showed up at the field a few minutes early. Coach Bradley was already there setting up two long lines of orange cones on the field. Bucky put his plan into action right away.
“Hey, Coach!” Bucky called. “Phew, it sure is a hot one today! I might just practice without my shirt on! How about you?”
The coach shrugged. “I’ll keep mine on. And unless you’re wearing sunscreen, don’t take yours off, okay? I can’t have my star goal-keeper getting a burn before our last game.”
“Oh. Right,” Bucky said.
Rats,
he thought. The rest of the team slowly trickled in. Coach Bradley had them all do warm-up exercises, then he separated them into two groups and explained their first drill.
“Bucky, you go in one goal, and Jason, you take the other. Group one, you’re with Bucky, and two, with Jason.” The kids followed the coach’s instructions. “Two people from each group, take up positions near the goals.” Dewey and Amanda trotted down near Bucky. Eddie and Lisa went to the opposite goal. “Now, everyone else line up behind the cones. First in line, dribble in and out of the cones. At the end, pass to one of the players near the goal. That player shoots on goal, then goes to the end of the line. The dribbler takes his or her place.” He clapped his hands. “We’re working on control and quickness. Ready? Go!”
Bucky crouched down, hands in the classic W goalkeeper’s pose, ready to stop the ball when it came toward him. Stookie Norris dribbled expertly through the cones, then passed to Amanda. Amanda fired a shot to the upper left corner of the goal. Bucky smacked the ball away and returned to his starting position. Amanda trotted to the end of the line, and Stookie took her place near the goal.
Next in line was Lou Barnes. Lou dribbled around the cones and booted the ball to Dewey. Dewey kicked it hard toward Bucky’s feet. Bucky scooped up the ball and threw it to one side.
Ten minutes later, when the coach blew his whistle, Bucky was breathing hard and his shirt was covered with mud and grass. Looking down at himself, he suddenly had an idea. While the others were busy getting cups of water, Bucky quietly rolled a soccer ball in a muddy patch of grass.
“Hey, Coach!” he yelled. Coach Bradley turned—and Bucky fired the ball directly at his chest. “Catch!”
W
hat the—
oof!
” The mud-covered soccer ball bounced off the coach’s stomach and fell to the ground. Coach Bradley looked from his shirt to Bucky and back to his shirt. With a sigh, he picked up a towel and started wiping the mud off. “This shirt is as dirty as my van! If I don’t get them both clean, Mrs. Bradley will have my head!”
“I know where you can get your van cleaned!” Stookie piped up.
“You do? Where?” the coach asked. Stookie shot Bucky a sly grin.
Bucky’s eyes widened.
Was Stookie going to tell him about the car wash?
He couldn’t still be angry that Bucky had come up with the idea for the present—could he? One glance at Stookie told Bucky he was.
I’ve got to do something!
Bucky thought desperately. He spied a cup of water in Dewey’s hands. Without thinking, he grabbed the cup and tossed it at the coach.
“Bucky!” Coach Bradley sputtered. “What’s gotten into you?”
“I—I was just trying to help clean your shirt,” Bucky said weakly.
The coach mopped his dripping face with the towel. Then he peeled off his wet shirt, tossed it on the bench, and started rummaging around in his duffel bag for a spare.
Quick as a wink, Bucky grabbed the muddy shirt. He pulled the tag out of the shirt’s collar, examined it, and grinned. “Got it!”
“Yes, you do,” the coach said. He held out his hand. “Now, may I please have it?”
With a sheepish grin, Bucky passed him the shirt. “Ready for that next drill whenever you are, Coach!”
Coach Bradley shook his head, then stuffed his dirty shirt into the duffel bag and faced the rest of the team. “Okay then,” he barked. “Four-on-four scrimmage with goalies. We’ve got eleven kids here today. Whoever’s left over, be ready to sub in. Let’s get to it!”
Bucky jogged to his spot. Ted and Alan took up defensive positions near him, with Stookie and Eddie on offense. Playing offense for the other team were Lou and the other starting striker, Jerry Dinh. Jerry had the ball. At the coach’s whistle, he started dribbling down the field. Ted and Alan immediately moved to double-team him. Jerry passed to Lou, then spun to free himself from Ted and Alan. “Here!” he called to Lou. Lou jabbed a pass to him, but the ball took a crazy bounce and wound up right in front of Ted. Ted knocked it over the sideline.
“Nice move, Jerry. Good ‘D,’ Ted,” the coach called. “Lou, try to make those passes a little sharper, okay?”
Lou nodded and returned to his position. This time, he started with the ball. A fast runner, he streaked down the sideline and into firing range before Ted or Alan could reach him. One short shot later, the ball was in the net behind Bucky.
“Hmm, that’s better, Lou!” Coach Bradley said with a smile. He tossed the ball to Stookie. “Do that during our last game, and we’re sure to give the other team a run for their money!”
Just then, Stookie dribbled up next to the coach. “Speaking of money,” he said, “I hear a great way to make some extra cash is to hold a car—
umph!
”
Bucky shot out of the goal and tackled him. “Bucky!” Coach Bradley yelled. “What are you doing?”
Bucky stood up and helped Stookie to his feet. “Uh, sorry, Coach,” he apologized. “I thought Stookie was going to take a shot. I was going for the ball. Sorry, Stookie.”
Stookie curled his hands into fists. “Oh, you’ll be sorry all right!”
“That’s enough,” Coach Bradley said, standing between the two boys. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but let’s cool it. Stookie, back to your position.” Stookie glared at Bucky but did as the coach asked.
“And Bucky, I don’t know what’s gotten into you today,” the coach continued. “But I will tell you that if you don’t settle down, I’m going to bench you at the start of the next game.”
B
ucky couldn’t believe his ears. Benched for the ’Cats’ last game? He just couldn’t be!
This is all Stookie’s fault,
he thought angrily.
He’s trying to ruin everything!
The scrimmage continued, but Bucky was so worried about being benched that he couldn’t focus on goalkeeping. One ball after another flew by him and into the net. Finally, Coach Bradley blew his whistle to end the drill.
“Okay, that’s it for today,” the coach called. “Gather up the cones and the balls, please, and bring them to my van.”
Bucky helped the others collect the equipment. He kept a close eye on Stookie the whole time, ready to intervene if he started telling the coach about the car wash again. Stookie didn’t. Still, Bucky relaxed only after he saw Stookie climb into his mother’s car and drive away.
Bucky’s mother hadn’t arrived yet, so he helped the coach load the remaining equipment into the van. The coach slammed the back shut, then looked at his hands and grimaced. “My van really is filthy.” He wiped his hands on a towel. “I gotta find a car wash.”
Bucky’s mouth turned dry. What if the coach saw the signs Amanda, Eddie, and Lisa had put up?
“Take them down! All of them!” Bucky yelled into the phone that night.
“What are you talking about?” He could hear the confusion in Amanda’s voice.
“If the coach sees the signs, he’ll go to the car wash tomorrow!” Bucky explained desperately. “So we have to take them down!”
“But Bucky,” Amanda said, “if we take them down, no one else will know about the car wash!”
Bucky groaned. “Shoot, you’re right! What are we going to do?”
He heard Amanda sigh. “I think there’s only one thing we can do—hope the coach got his car washed today or is too busy to do it tomorrow.”
Bucky felt his heart leap. “Amanda, that’s it! You’re a genius!”
“I am? What—”
“I can’t talk now,” Bucky said hurriedly. “Leave the signs up. Bye!” He hung up on Amanda and punched in a new number. “Please be home,” he muttered as the phone rang on the other end.
“Hello?” a deep voice answered.
“Coach Bradley? Bucky here,” Bucky squeaked nervously. “I need your help!”
“What can I do for you?” The coach sounded surprised.
“I think I’ve lost my touch,” Bucky lied. “I’m afraid the other team is going to score like crazy on me unless I get in some extra practice.”
“Well, why don’t you see if some of your teammates can take shots on you tomorrow?”
“No!” Bucky yelled. “I mean, I need your expert advice. Please, Coach?”
The coach was silent. “Okay,” he finally said. “I could come over Thursday—”
“It has to be tomorrow morning at ten o’clock,” Bucky cut in. “And we have to meet at the field, not here.” He held his breath. Had he pushed too far?
To his relief, Coach Bradley started laughing. “Okay. See you at the field tomorrow.” He hung up.
Bucky hung up, too. Then he called Bundy to explain why he wouldn’t be at the car wash the next day.
B
ucky was at the field ten minutes to ten the next morning. Coach Bradley arrived at ten o’clock on the dot. He parked the van and joined Bucky.
“Hey, Coach,” Bucky said. “Thanks again for helping me out.”
Coach Bradley tossed a few soccer balls onto the field in front of the goal. “No problem,” he said. “I can only stay for a little while, though. Then I have to get some errands done.”
“Errands? What errands?” Bucky asked. He glanced at the van. To his dismay, he saw it was still covered with dirt.