Peter Soccer

Chapter 4

---

The next few days went all right for Peter. He was beginning to get used to the whole change of environment. Soon he knew most of his teammates’ names. Preston was still a pain in the ass, but he had decided that he wouldn’t let him make him lose sight of his goals. And he had Will to take care of things anytime things went south.

“Thank God it’s Friday,” Peter said, rubbing his eyes from sleep.

“Yeah, right. A day off is what I just need,” Will replied, suppressing a yawn.

“You know what I hate about it, though?” Will asked.

“What?”

“Since it’s the day before our game, tonight we get to know the squad, and by tomorrow morning, the starting eleven,” he sighed.

“Yeah, and it’s the constant thought of it, like a burden.”

“You got that right!” Will jumped out of bed.

The day flew by, and Will was right. All everybody could talk about was who was going to get in. Immediately after dinner, everyone headed to the field where the squad would be called.

As Will and Peter walked towards the field after dinner, they began discussing.

“You were right, man. That squad is all I could think about the whole day,” Peter said.

“You could say the same for everyone else. And maybe it’s because it’s the first game of the season, but this one… it feels different,” Will said.

“Will… how did you feel the first time you were called?”

“Well, I was called at the first time of asking, though on the bench, expectedly. I felt… nervous, and determined at the same time.”

“I wonder if I get called first time.”

“I reckon you will. I just hope I start,” Will said, rubbing his hands together in the cold.

“I bet you will,” Peter encouraged as they reached the field.

“Don’t hold your breath,” Will whispered as they joined the crowd.

They still had to wait for Coach Tim.

“How long is he gonna take?” Peter whispered to Will.

“I dunno,” Will moaned.

It took some minutes for Coach Tim to arrive, and obviously without any apologies of any sort, he spoke almost like he was scolding them.

“Hey! Enough of the noise already. Let’s cut to the chase. It’s cold out here.”

“You bet,” a boy called Dan muttered. The coach turned to him but decided to ignore him. Peter thought, _Well, there goes his chances._

“I’m gonna start with the squad first, as usual. But the starting eleven will be available tomorrow at the dressing room.” Peter was not sure if he was happier or not at those words. He held his breath subconsciously. He was still struggling to release it when Coach started.

“The goalkeepers: Evan Blake and Jordan Sean.” There was a pause, then brief clapping which stopped at the coach’s signal before he continued.

“The defenders: Chase Evers, Mike Ford, Dave Bill, Jack Collins, Mason Tyler, Ace West, and Max Wilshere.” Another round of applause ensued but stopped again.

“Midfielders: Miles Davis, Walker Hayes, Declan Tanner, Chad Bradford, Graham Bennett, Mickey Ross.” Another applause. Peter couldn’t clap — too scared.

“Attackers: Preston Norman, James Hopper, William Robert, Drew Marco, Peter Adams, Jeffrey Roman.” Peter probably didn’t hear the last name.

He was so relieved he probably didn’t even hear the clapping. Again, the coach signalled for them to stop.

“Well, congratulations to those who got called, and for the rest, it’s still a long, long season ahead,” he said as he left, and everyone scattered in various directions.

Peter walked straight to Will, who spoke first.

“Well, I hate to say I told you so, but I told you so,” he said, hugging him.

“Thanks. I would have been gutted to not be called,” he added.

“So, tomorrow we find out if I start!” Will said, a little anxious.

“You will!” Peter shoved Will a little.

“Are you just saying that so you can tell me ‘I told you so’?” Will asked jokingly.

“You know me too well.”

They both laughed.

---

“Will! Will, wake up!” Peter shook Will vigorously with anticipation. Will rubbed his eyes desperately. He yawned a little, then, becoming alert to the situation, he jerked out of bed.

“Oh my God, we have to go.” He pulled on a shirt, and he and Peter rushed out. Like most other boys, everyone was rushing to the dressing room.

By the time they got there, most of the boys were already there. Peter tried to read some of their faces but decided against it. Him and Will rushed to the little clipboard on a wall in the corner. They both read the names. Peter felt his heart ripple a bit… he felt it c***k, a little. His name wasn’t there. But Will’s name was.

He tried to smile and looked to Will. His expression was priceless. Peter put his hand on his shoulder and said,

“I hate to say it, but…”

“I told you so!” they both chorused, then laughed.

Peter was fairly okay with not starting. He’d have been surprised if he was in; there’s always next time, he thought. And as though reading his mind, Will said,

“There’s always next time.”

“Yeah.”

The next two hours were busy, everyone packing up their bags. By about 11 a.m., the bus filled with everyone. Peter and Will sat together, as expected. Just as the bus got moving, Will asked,

“A bit nervous?” Peter smiled a little.

“A bit.” They continued in silence.

The trip lasted about 30 minutes.

---

Soon they were off the bus at Riverside Rovers’ home ground. The air smelled like cut grass and diesel.

A short while later, they were led to the away dressing room. Boots laced. Shirts on. Nerves on.

The substitutes took their places on the bench. Peter caught Will’s eye before he jogged out.

“Good luck,” he whispered.

Will nodded, then walked out and took up position.

The referee blew his whistle.

---