Jeff was also feeling pretty helpless at that moment. He had glanced over to the bench and seen Andi with the doctor and the two Merion coaches and was pretty certain she wasn’t going to talk her way back into the game.
Cynwyd had just had a corner kick that one of their strikers had headed wide of the goal, meaning Merion had another goal kick.
As Bobby Woodward was recovering the ball from behind the net, Jeff heard Arlow calling his name: not Michaels, but Jeff. Surprised, he ran in the direction of midfield as Arlow ran back to meet him. Arlow was waving his arms at Woodward to hang on to the ball for a moment.
Jeff was baffled. There were less than ninety seconds left; the last thing Merion needed to do was waste time.
“Quick,” Arlow said. “Run back and tell Woodward to get the ball to Isidro. Allan will know what to do with it.”
“But…”
“Just do it!”
There was no time to argue. Jeff ran as fast as he could at the baffled Woodward.
“To Allan,” he said. “To Allan.”
Instead of kicking the ball, Woodward flung a sidearm pass to Isidro. Because Cynwyd considered Jeff and Zack Roth the primary midfield threats for Merion, Isidro had some space.
He controlled the ball and then, without trying to take advantage of the open space in front of him to make any kind of run, he boomed a high, looping kick that seemed to stay in the air forever.
Jeff was running after the ball, but it came down just outside the penalty area and was instantly surrounded by players in both red and white, Cynwyd; and blue and gold, Merion. He saw Zack Roth kick it in the direction of the left corner. Normally, Andi might have been there. Now, though, it was Mike Craig, and he had two defenders trailing him.
In the middle of the penalty area Arlow was making a run straight at the goal, arm in the air, screaming, “Now, Mike, now!”
Craig seemed to understand—and then he didn’t. Instead of trying to cross the ball into the crowded penalty box, he flipped a short pass to Roth, who was charging up from behind the two-team scrum near the goal. Jeff was running to Roth’s left as defenders came to meet him.
Roth waited until the last possible second, and then slid the ball to Jeff, who was running full speed—and gasping from all the running he’d done in the last sixty seconds.
“Shoot!” he heard Arlow scream, and he saw what looked like the entire Cynwyd team turning toward him. It occurred to him that Arlow had been bluffing when he’d called for the ball from Roth and, more important, he was bluffing now.
Jeff drew his leg back and saw Cynwyd players diving to try to block his shot. He didn’t shoot. Instead, he controlled the ball with his left foot and then, with his right, he looped the ball with far more finesse than he thought possible to where Arlow was standing, to the right of the goalie. No one from Cynwyd was paying attention because they were all expecting Jeff to shoot.
Arlow quickly stopped the pass with his right leg, brought it down to his feet, and fired a shot aimed for the far corner of the goal. The goalie got a hand on it and it looked like it was going over the goal. At the last possible second, it ducked just below the crossbar and into the net.
Jeff heard himself screaming and looking at the clock all at once. It said fifteen seconds and was still ticking. There wouldn’t be time even for a kickoff. He and Arlow ran straight into each other’s arms like long-lost brothers.
“What a pass!” Arlow screamed in his ear. “I didn’t think you had it in you!”
“Me neither!” Jeff yelled back. “Great thinking!”
Before Arlow could respond, the entire Merion team buried them in a dog pile. Jeff was kicked and pummeled and pounded on the back.
He couldn’t remember ever feeling happier.
Andi didn’t have a very good view of the play from the bench, but the reaction of her teammates told her what had happened.
She started to stand up, but Dr. Hastings, who was now alone with her, put a hand on her shoulder.
“Easy,” she said. “I know you want to celebrate—I get it. But I need you to take it easy. They’ll come to you—I guarantee it.”
She was right. As soon as her teammates unpiled, they began sprinting in her direction. Dr. Hastings stood in front of her, hands up. “Whoa,” she said. “Gentle, please.”
“How about high fives?” Danny Diskin asked.
The doctor smiled. “How about fist bumps?” she said, but not too enthusiastically.
They all lined up to fist-bump her. Jeff cheated, sneaking in a quick one-armed hug.
Andi then joined the handshake line. Every Cynwyd player shook her hand and most said something about hoping she was all right. Carla Hastings gave her a quick hug, saying over and over again: “I’m so sorry.”
“I know it was an accident,” Andi said. “Don’t worry about it.”
Carla smiled. “I’ll tell you what wasn’t an accident—the play you made. I had that thing lined up. No way your goalie would have stopped me.”
Now Andi smiled. “I know,” she said. “That’s why I had to try to stop you.”
They hugged again. “Hope you can play next week,” Hastings said. “Good thing is, there’s no game on Tuesday.”
Andi hadn’t thought about that. The next week was the midway point of the middle schools’ fall semesters and most kids had midterm tests and papers due, so there were no games scheduled until Friday.
When the team gathered after the handshakes, Coach J had a smile on his face.
“That was the best game we’ve played so far,” he said. “Note my emphasis on so far. We’ve got three to go and because we pulled this one out, we can still win the conference. We’re going to need some help the next couple of weeks because I checked and King of Prussia–North won again today, so they’re undefeated. We need someone to tie them or beat them, and we need to win the next two so we can play them for the conference championship.
“The important thing today, though, is you guys figured out a way to come from behind and win. Michaels, Arlow—those were great goals.” He turned to Andi and pointed to her. “But the real hero, fellas, was Carillo. If she hadn’t come all the way back to take the ball away from that tall girl, we would’ve been done. Way to go, Andi!”
They all cheered for her—even Arlow.
Andi’s head was still throbbing a little. But she felt great—absolutely great.