Champion

Minute 1 “Lynx, get to the net now!” Shouted Coach Studer. “You’re late!” After dropping my backpack in between everybody else’s, making sure the letters were clearly visible, and putting on my cleats as fast as I could, I stood up and put on my finger-saver gloves while quickly jogging towards the net. I was late for the first formal practice and I knew that Studer didn’t like that, he would probably punish me, making me do push-ups and work harder than the rest. I was late because I had waited outside school for Sara to appear. She never showed up. Not that we planned anything, I just knew she walked that way. The only girl that I’ve ever liked and she doesn’t even know who I am. The day I met Coach Studer, I got there earlier than everybody else. including him. I had bright yellow letters that spelled out “Lynx” fixed to my backpack, and positioned in a way that all of my new teammates would notice them. As every player knows, a good goalkeeper will always be compared to a feline. I introduced myself to Coach Studer when he arrived, doing so before everybody else. Nobody except for me and four other kids went to that first “unofficial” practice. “You must be Coach Studer.” I said, with the firmest conviction I could muster. “Yes, that’s right. And you are?” He produced a players’ list and scanned through it. “Lynx,” I said again decisively, “they call me Lynx.” “Well… but, what’s your name?” He looked at me with a puzzled expression. “You must have me there as Lynx, or perhaps Michel?” I said. “Oh! There you are. You’re here as Lino.” “What? It has to be Lynx!” “That’s all right. What’s wrong with Lino?” He was still puzzled, perhaps because of my stubbornness. “I answer to Lynx only.” I softened my tone. “And I like it.” “That’s fine, Lynx it is. Welcome to the team. I’ll introduce you to everybody else once more people are here. Only you and two other players are new to the team.” “How many are we?” I wanted to know everything about my new team. “We are only sixteen, on paper anyway. There they come.” He pointed to a pair of players emerging from the parking lot. “I am glad you joined us, we really needed a goalkeeper, and you’ll find our defence top-notch.” “I’m ready to work hard.” I said, convincingly raising my voice a little bit so that the approaching players could hear me. “That’s good, because I will make you ALL work hard.” He turned to the other boys. “Hey, guys. Nice to see you again, this here is, um, Lynx.” “Nice to meet you,” I said, “I’m Lynx. And you are?” And after initial introductions, kicking the ball back and forth, and waiting for more people to show up and so on, I wanted to convince myself I was ON the team. While walking to the bus stop, I mentally reviewed everything I had prepared beforehand, to make things perfectly: from my finger-saver gloves, to my new shin pads, and the three skin-colour compression tops I purchased at the runners’ shop. Quite tight, just as I wanted them, but with enough cushioning so that my chest wouldn’t hurt in case I get a hard ball right there. I had also made a list with what I needed to always carry: towel, full water bottle, sports tape, old gloves -just in case-, second pair of socks, etc. etc. I put it in the backpack’s front pocket, and also made a copy and stuck it in my closet. I was so happy that I felt like dancing the entire bus ride all the way home. Now, with the first official practice of the season, and knowing well the names of four of my teammates, it would be a matter of two more sessions, at most, before I would learn everybody else’s names. I had had practiced by myself the day before: just warming up, doing the series of Movement Preparation exercises that my previous coach, Alexander, had taught me and referred to as MP. I did those for fifteen minutes. I had also used a roller to warm up my legs and a small solid ball to stretch my deltopectoral groove. Then, some more flexibility and dynamic stretching. I also did some running with the ball and some dribbling, followed by “around the world,” until I was sweating hard. I took a sip of water, rested for three minutes, rehearsed the basic goalkeeper position and mentally visualized the positioning of hands and body to catch balls below the waist, at waist height, and high ones. To finish, I did some core strengthening exercises. I was kind of amazed I could remember and do all that by myself. There were a few exercises I know I forgot, but I can always go back and check my notes. Perhaps Coach Studer knows all about these exercises as well. However, the first official practice was uneventful. It was more of a “gelling together” kind of practice, while Studer watched our individual ball skills, and obviously my skills in net. I’m sure he was satisfied with what he saw me do. Even so, I was worried to death about really being part of the team. All of the boys seemed so at ease, but I felt I still was not fully accepted as a player, I had this urge for them to talk to me as if we had met long ago, or for Coach to say something that made me feel I was really a member of the group. During practice, our assistant coach, Victor, however, had some questions. “I am going to work with you more than Studer, because I usually train the goalkeepers and defense.” “That’s good.” I said coyly. “So, why ‘Lynx’?” He asked. “I’m used to it. I’ve been called so ever since I was ten or eleven, don’t remember.” “Okay. And how long have you played as goalkeeper?” He asked in a way that begged for a longer explanation. “Since then. That’s when they started calling me Lynx.” I elaborated calmly. “They said that I looked like a large cat playing with a ball.” “I see.” He was looking intently into my eyes as he sent the ball to me, asking a question each time he sent one. “And, why did you change clubs?” “Someone told me you guys were a very good team and needed a goalkeeper. That’s why.” “Yes, but who told you that?” I started to feel annoyed. “I don’t really remember that. It must have been one of my dad’s friends.” “And you just left your team and club to come here with us, just like that?” He was being very inquisitive. “Listen, Victor, I already told all of that to Studer, and my parents provided all kind of information to the club.” I softened my tone. “Why don’t we focus on practice and we go over what’s still missing as we go?” He seemed to notice my discomfort. “No problem. Just wanted to know you a little bit better, that’s all.” I might have been a little bit rude, but I was glad the questioning stopped. At the end, Coach Studer just repeated what most of us already knew: the next practice’s date and time, and that our first game would be two weekends from this one. This time, on the bus ride home, I kept thinking that it would be a longer and more difficult season for me, in every aspect, but I’d signed up for it, so I should be accountable for my own actions. I felt that all went well, because nobody had asked me anything personal, and most of them seemed to have included me into the team immediately after we interacted. All except Williams. He had looked at me funny from the moment I shook hands and told him that I was Lynx. I hope he didn’t really notice anything, or my plan would come crashing to the ground, before even taking off.