There was no game Friday because they had a bye, but in practice before their next game the following Tuesday, Coach J didn’t mention to the team that their opponent, Gladwynne, was winless and had scored a total of two goals. That came up later, after Merion had thrashed Gladwynne 5–0 in a game in which all sixteen players got to play at least a half.
Gladwynne, Jeff noticed early, didn’t even have a full complement of players. When the game began, there were only two players in uniform on the sideline in addition to the eleven starters. They had one player who looked like he’d played soccer before: one of their midfielders, who could control the ball well and get past defenders. But once he gave up the ball, none of his teammates had much of a clue what to do with it.
Arlow scored a hat trick—three goals, just as Andi had done against Malvern. Jeff knew the phrase from going to hockey games with his dad. When one of the Flyers scored three goals, all sorts of hats would appear on the ice, tossed from the stands. Jeff had no idea where they came from—he never really noticed anyone wearing a hat—but they magically appeared.
Jeff’s dad explained to him that this was an old-time hockey tradition that actually had started in cricket—the British version of baseball—when a batter took three straight wickets. Jeff had no clue what that meant, but his dad explained that when someone took three straight—apparently a rare occurrence—he was presented with a hat. This led to hockey fans tossing hats onto the ice in honor of three goals and, later, three goals in soccer being called a hat trick for the same reason.
It was rare in hockey and even more rare in soccer, especially at the professional level, where three goals total in a game was often considered a lot.
No one threw any hats at Arlow, but he was clearly pleased with having accomplished the feat. Roth scored a goal, and so did Diskin—coming up from midfield—his first of the season. Andi had two assists in the first half, which ended with Merion up by four. Then she and Jeff sat out the entire second half.
“Home sweet home,” Jeff said with a grin as they sat and watched.
Andi shrugged. “We’re not needed,” she said.
Jeff nodded. “But Arlow’s still out there. Roth, too.”
“I know,” Andi said. “But we’re winning, and you and I are starting. That’s a long way from where we were a few weeks ago.”
It was after the handshakes that Coach J let the players know how unimpressed he was with their impressive victory.
“That’s the weakest team we’re going to face,” he said. “I’m sure you all figured that out pretty quickly. They aren’t going to win a game. I was happy with the way you took control of the game quickly, but the fact is if we kept playing for another hour, they probably wouldn’t have scored. So enjoy the win. There’s an old saying in sports that you never throw one back. We’ll take it.
“But Friday we’re going to play at Cynwyd.” He held up his phone. “I just got a text from their coach telling me they beat Malvern today. That means they’ve got the same record as us and they beat a team we surprised last week.”
He paused. “Their best player missed their first two conference games because he was hurt—that’s probably why they lost badly to King of Prussia–North. He’s back now, and they will probably be the best team we’ve faced, at least in conference, so far.
“But we’re also a lot better team now than we were at the beginning of the season. We win this game and we’ll put ourselves in position to have a chance to win the conference. We lose, well, we’re out of it. So come to practice tomorrow prepared to really get after it. We’ll need to play our best game of the season on Friday.”
He turned, started to walk away, then thought of something and came back. “Good win today. Ron, get ’em in for a cheer.”
Arlow did as he was told, and Jeff found Andi and Diskin walking off the field.
“He’s just full of joy, isn’t he?” he said.
Andi smiled her smile. “He’s not wrong,” she said. “That really wasn’t a very good team, was it?”
“They could have used a couple of girls, huh?”
Jeff looked behind them and saw Arlow jogging up.
“Actually, they probably could have used a couple of girls—especially if they were half as good as Andi,” Diskin said. “I hear that Cynwyd has two girls and they’re both really good.”
“One of them is their goalie,” Andi added.
Jeff had heard none of this. Apparently neither had Arlow.
“Where’d you hear that?” Jeff asked, clearly surprised.
“There’s a website for the conference that some of the parents set up,” Diskin said. “It has the rosters and leading scorers for each team. Of course you wouldn’t know that, Arlow, because that would involve reading something.”
“Well, guess we’re in trouble on Friday then,” Arlow responded, “since they’ve got two girls to our one.”
He jogged off without waiting for an answer.
“Every day around here is just nothing but yucks,” Diskin said. “Between him and the coach, there’s no enjoying anything.”
“Can’t believe he didn’t know about the website,” Andi said. “I figured he’d been on it every night looking for his name.”
“He will now,” Jeff said. “Especially after the three goals today.”
He didn’t mention that he’d be checking the site for the first time that night himself.
Andi was heading for the girls’ locker room. It was the first week in October and, even at five thirty, Jeff could feel a chill in the air. Which reminded him that the Halloween dance was a little more than three weeks away.
He wanted to say something about it to Andi, but she was turning away. And Diskin was standing right there.
Not now, Jeff thought. But soon. Before someone else—like Mike Craig—asked first.