Poppy and Annalise stood together with the rest of their team in the middle of the field, facing their opposition, the Granville Raiders. After all of their pre-season training, it was finally time for the first game. Following on from another warm autumn day, the night air was now cool and crisp. Rain had been forecast, but so far it had held off and Poppy hoped it would continue to do so until the end of the game. The referee – a boy who couldn’t have been older than fifteen – had gathered them together and was listing his rules in a wobbly, pubescent voice that skated between high-pitched squeaks and low rumbles. Poor kid, thought Poppy, he’s probably terrified of telling a bunch of older women what to do.
Poppy was feeling great. Annalise wasn’t lying when she said she was a decent player, and throughout their training sessions their team had been working really well together. They were in with a good chance of continuing with their winning streak from last season.
The ref flipped a coin to determine which team would kick off and then Granville’s captain stepped forward. ‘All right, ladies, let’s keep it friendly, hey? We’re all mums, most of us have jobs, and no one wants to cop any injuries.’
Poppy stiffened. She was about to say something but Annalise beat her to it. ‘Speak for yourself, mate, just because it’s the over thirty-fives doesn’t mean all of us have kids.’ She slung an arm around Poppy’s shoulder.
The captain raised her eyebrows and looked sideways at her team mates, amused. ‘Yeah, all right, not everyone, but let’s still keep it friendly, eh?’
‘Are we here to play soccer or have a social?’ Annalise said. ‘I say go hard or go home.’
The captain laughed. ‘Righto,’ she said. ‘Whatever you say.’
There were nervous giggles from women on both sides and Poppy wondered if Annalise had just set them up for a rough game. A player standing to the left of the captain caught Poppy’s eye. Poppy knew what was coming.
Don’t do it, don’t do it, do not do it.
The woman tilted her head just slightly to the left, pursed her lips, crinkled her nose and lifted her eyebrows.
BAM.
She did it. She fucking well did it.
The sympathy look. It was clear as day and Poppy wanted to slap the silly puppy-dog expression right off her face.
I do not need your pity. Poppy clenched her jaw and then checked herself. Hold up, Poppy, you don’t actually know for a fact that’s what she’s thinking.
But why else would she be throwing her that look?
The two teams separated and spread out to take their positions. Poppy’s place was in the goals, while Annalise as striker was going to be up front, so she squeezed Annalise’s arm before heading to her box. ‘Hey, thanks for standing up for me.’
Annalise shook her head. ‘I was standing up for both of us,’ she replied. ‘And now we’re going to kick their butts.’
‘Sounds like a plan.’
For the first twenty minutes of the game, Poppy was afforded far too much thinking time. True to her word, Annalise was going hard, and the rest of their team seemed to be following suit. Rowena, who was an ex-premier-league player, was up front with her, and while the two of them hadn’t been able to put away a goal yet, they were keeping the ball in the top half at least ninety percent of the time.
‘Oy, Poppy!’ a voice shouted from the sideline. ‘Stay sharp, you look like you’re about to fall asleep out there.’
The voice belonged to their coach. Elle had been training Poppy’s team for several years and she took the competition extremely seriously. To Elle, soccer was life. Skipping training was the sporting equivalent of blasphemy. Not pulling your weight on the field was the ultimate betrayal of your team mates. If you missed a game, you needed to be on your deathbed.
‘What do you want me to do?’ Poppy shouted back, ‘run around in circles? They haven’t even let me touch the ball yet.’
Jen, who was in the back line, cut in, ‘You want us to let one through so you can feel needed, Poppy?’
‘Fuck off, Jen!’ Poppy shouted. ‘I’m well needed.’
‘Don’t even think about letting one slip through, Jen,’ Elle called. ‘You just keep doing what you’re doing.’
‘Jesus, Elle, I was joking!’
The best way Poppy could describe Elle was that she was a woman with presence. She was actually younger than the players – in her late twenties – and she always wore the same jersey, the same shorts, the same baseball cap hiding her hair and pulled down low so it was hard to see her eyes. Yet she had a way of commanding complete attention with ease.
Elle was distracted then by Annalise and Rowena, who were making yet another play for the goal. They lost their chance and Poppy saw Elle burying her face in her hands. To Elle, every moment of every game might as well have been the final thirty seconds of the grand final. Any missed opportunity was a calamity. Last season Jen had taken a photo of Elle standing on the sideline mid-game and posted it to Facebook with the caption, ‘My dream is to find a man who looks at me the same way Elle looks at a soccer ball.’
Poppy had to admit, she admired Elle for her passion.
By half-time they were still drawn at nil-all. Elle gathered them together for a pep-talk and someone sent a bag of lollies around the group for an energy boost. A light rain began to fall and Poppy folded her arms tightly and jogged on the spot. She loved being a goalie, but if no one was taking any shots at her, it was hard to keep warm or energised.
‘Right,’ said Elle, ‘what’s happening out there? You guys have had so many chances to score but for some reason you’re not following it through. Rowena, I reckon you need to get out of your own head, you’re over-thinking. Annalise, you’re the opposite. You need to slow down and start thinking. During training, almost all of your shots were on point. Your aim is usually incredible. You’ve got fucking mad skills.’
Poppy saw Annalise’s cheeks flush pink in a very uncharacteristic moment of embarrassed pride and her eyes shone in a way Poppy had never witnessed before. Elle continued on.
‘But tonight, you’re all over the shop. Actually, you know what? I’m gonna shake things up a bit. Poppy, let’s take you out of goals and put you up front.’
Poppy let her mouth drop open. ‘Elle,’ she said, ‘I’m the goalie, I’m always the goalie, you can’t take me out of there.’
‘I can do whatever I want. Anyway, it’ll give you a chance to get some action. Annalise and Rowena, I’m dropping both of you down to the back line.’ She went on to redistribute the rest of the team and most of them nodded their assent before breaking apart to grab drink bottles and re-wrap bad knees and ankles before the whistle blew for the second half.
Annalise pulled Poppy aside. ‘Has Elle lost her mind? She’s going to have the team in a mess, everyone will be lost.’
Poppy threw her hands up as if to say, “Your guess is as good as mine”. Then she said, ‘Hopefully there’s method to her madness.’
Annalise didn’t look convinced and Poppy sensed she was annoyed at being made to drop back when she’d been so close to scoring.
In the second half of the game things started out poorly. Mixing up their positions took them out of their comfort zones. They all had to focus more and work harder in order to play their part. Granville took advantage of the chaos and managed to break through for a shot at the goal, but Jen put in a good effort and was able to save it. Another ten minutes in, they started to get used to their positions and hold their own while the rain grew heavier, cutting down on visibility. The two teams were fairly evenly matched though, and as the time continued to tick by, Poppy was beginning to think they were doomed to finish the game without a single goal.
With less than two minutes left, Annalise made a great tackle and brought the ball up on the right-hand side. Then the mid-field passed it through right in front of Poppy. She found herself with a clear run at the goal.
She started sprinting and her legs protested, reminding her that running wasn’t her forte. Now she appreciated the steady rainfall that was keeping her cool, even if the pitch was becoming slippery. The ball was slick but she was managing to keep it close. Her chest tightened and her lungs burned.
She could hear Elle on the sideline screaming at her. ‘Take the shot! TAKE IT NOW!’
She wanted to follow Elle’s instructions – Elle was the coach and so she wanted to do right by the team and listen to her. But at the same time, Granville’s goalie was coming out to meet her and Poppy wasn’t sure she’d be able to get the ball by her. She knew Carmen was backing her up, so she veered left, drawing the goalie over to the side, and passed it off to Carmen who placed in neatly into the back right-hand corner of the net.
The whistle blew for the end of the match and Carmen whooped and ran over to hug Poppy, followed closely by several other team mates who tackled the both of them almost to the ground in celebration.
Back on the sidelines, Elle approached Poppy and pulled her aside. ‘How come you didn’t take the shot?’ she asked.
Poppy hesitated. ‘Because it wasn’t the right call.’
Elle stared back at her and Poppy waited to be told off. But then Elle smiled. ‘You’ve changed lately,’ she said. ‘I like it.’