Bucky 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.
“Oh, just some stuff,” the coach answered vaguely. “Nothing urgent, but they need to be done today. Well, let’s get started.” He strode off toward the goal.
Bucky followed. Two hours, he thought. I just have to keep him busy for two hours.
“We’ll begin with our usual warm-up. I’ll kick the ball, you catch it or slap it out of the way. All set?”
Bucky nodded and got into ready position. Coach Bradley lined up behind a ball. He gave it an easy kick, lobbing toward Bucky’s right side at shoulder height. Instinctively, Bucky reached up and caught the ball.
“Good, no problems there!” The coach smiled encouragingly.
Bucky smiled, too. But as he rolled the ball back to the coach, he wanted to kick himself. I’ve got to mess up or else this practice will be over before it’s begun! he thought.
With this in mind, he got ready for the next kick. It came as a soft shot to the corner. One quick side step, and Bucky could be between the ball and the net. He’d done it a million times without a problem. But this time, as he stepped sideways, he tripped. He hit the dirt, and the ball rolled past him.
“Whoops!” said the coach. “You okay, Bucky?”
Bucky stood and brushed the dirt from his shirt. “Guess I’m a little clumsy today,” he said.
The coach shrugged. “Well, let’s try another.”
Bucky flubbed the next one. And the next, and the next, and the next. After twenty minutes of missing balls, colliding with goal posts, and tripping over his own feet, Bucky was starting to feel a little foolish. Still, he was determined to keep up the act as long as Coach Bradley stayed with him.
Finally, however, the coach stopped the drill. “Bucky,” he said, narrowing his eyes, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were missing these balls on purpose.”
Bucky tried to look innocent. “No way, Coach!” he protested. “I mean, why would I do something like that?”
“I don’t know. But I will tell you this: Unless I see some pretty quick improvement, I’m going to have to start Jason in the goal our last game.”
Bucky gulped. Suddenly, his plan to keep the coach busy didn’t seem so smart anymore!