Roy did his best at Stookie’s position, but he just wasn’t as good a player as Stookie. He missed a couple of easy shots and was beaten by the Tadpoles’ offense whenever he tried to help out on defense. Lou tried to do his part, but his heart wasn’t really into it. That left Jerry as the sole offensive force — but he couldn’t win the game alone. When the ref blew his whistle signaling halftime, the score was Tadpoles 2, ’Cats 1.
Stookie was red with frustration. He opened his mouth to shout at them, but a hand on his shoulder from the coach closed it again.
“You ’Cats seem a little out of it today,” Coach Bradley observed. “What will it take for you to start playing better?”
“Luck!” shouted Jason Shearer.
The coach groaned. “Very funny. I was thinking more along the lines of concentration. Pay attention to where the ball is, where you are, and where the Tadpoles are. I don’t expect you all to play like superstars, but I do hope you’ll at least focus on the game.” He shot Lou a quick glance.
Lou kicked his toe in the dirt. A pebble bounced off his sneaker and ricocheted into his lucky soccer ball. The ball wobbled, then started to roll down the hill.
Lou moved to go after it. Then he stopped short, unable to believe what he was seeing. There was Lucky, nosing his ball back up the hill! Lou rushed to the dog and flung his arms around him.
The Soccer ’Cats crowded around them, cheering and laughing. Lou tried to look over them to see if Mr. Wakefield was there.
Finally, he spotted him. Roger was pushing him up the paved walkway that led to the field. Lou broke free of the ’Cats and led Lucky over to the pair.
Roger was breathing hard and sweating. He excused himself to get a drink from the ’Cats’ watercooler. Mr. Wakefield looked at Lou with a twinkle in his eye.
“Roger’s been chasing after that dog all morning,” he whispered. “I think he’s a little tired!”
Lou tried to hand Lucky’s leash to Mr. Wakefield. But Mr. Wakefield waved it away.
“That doesn’t belong to me,” he said, looking straight into Lou’s eyes.
Lou’s heart pounded. Was Mr. Wakefield talking about the leash — or — or Lucky?
Mr. Wakefield took hold of Lou’s right hand. He gave it a squeeze and said, “You heard me right. Lucky is yours.”
“Why —? How —?” Lou couldn’t seem to get his tongue to work.
“Roger’s tried his best to keep up with Lucky, but it’s hard when he’s got to care for me, too. So I talked with Jeff last night,” Mr. Wakefield explained. “Jeff agreed with me that Lucky would be much better off with an active young boy than an old man. There’s just one condition.”
“What’s that?” Lou asked anxiously. What if he couldn’t do it?
Mr. Wakefield laughed. “You have to play soccer with him every day. Think you can do that?”
Lou laughed and swept an arm toward the other ’Cats. “I think I — I mean we — can probably handle that!”
