Thanks to Garry’s lousy throw, the Cougars had possession of the ball and were running with it down the sidelines. Their left wing attacker was stocky but surprisingly fast. He cradled the ball to one side of his body and held out his arm to block any oncoming attacks.
Carl and Eric, two of the Rockets defensemen, formed just such an offensive. They charged the attacker together, stopping him in his tracks.
The Cougar whirled and looked for someone to pass to. He found his center midfielder in the clear and slashed his stick downward to send the ball his way.
Whap! Jeff, the Rockets center middie, anticipated the throw and slapped the ball down to the ground before the Cougar could reach it. The ball bounced through the grass toward Samuel, another Rockets midfielder. Samuel stuck his stick under it and scooped it up. Now the action was headed toward the Cougars goal!
“Pass it up, already!” Michael screamed.
Samuel did, a line drive bomb that socked right into the pocket of Michael’s stick.
Michael cradled it, spun around, and dashed toward the crease.
A Cougars defenseman challenged him but then fell back a step when Michael didn’t slow down.
“Can’t see!” the Cougars goalkeeper yelled.
That was all the advantage Michael needed. He sidestepped past the defenseman and blasted a vicious shot toward the net. The goalkeeper saw the ball coming and lunged to make the save, but was just a moment too late.
Goal!
The Rockets cheered and whooped. Michael acknowledged the praise with a fist pumped in the air. Then he ambled back to the center X for the face-off. He passed Garry on the way.
“Wallis, since you’re not doing diddly out there today,” he growled, “just feed me the ball and get out of my way. Got it?”
“I’d rather eat my stick!” Garry snarled back.
“Really? See me after the game and I’ll feed it to you myself!”
“Good one, D-man,” Evan, the Rockets left midfielder, called. Evan was Michael’s sidekick. Lately, he seemed to be trying to curry Michael’s favor by giving him different nicknames. It hadn’t worked as far as Garry could tell. Michael still treated Evan like a lower life-form.
Jeff ran up behind them. “Knock it off, you guys,” he said to Garry and Michael, “and start acting like teammates, will you?”
The two boys exchanged one last angry look. Then Garry moved to the wing area and Michael to the center. The referee put the ball on the X, stepped back, and blew his whistle.
Michael flipped his stick over the ball, twisted the head around, and sent the ball bounding over to Conor on the right.
“Weave!” he cried, the call for a three-man passing play down the field.
Conor snatched the ball from the grass and immediately started running toward the center of the field. As he did, Michael came toward him. Garry, meanwhile, prepared to receive the ball from Conor and then take his place in the center.
But Michael had other ideas. “Garry’s covered!” he yelled to Conor. “Pass back!”
Conor didn’t bother to look Garry’s way to see if Michael was telling the truth. If he had, he would have seen that Garry had dodged past his defender and was, in fact, completely open.
Darn that Michael! Garry thought furiously as he watched Michael get the ball back from Conor. The weave would have worked if he wasn’t so selfish!
When two defenders stormed Michael from either side and broke up his attack, Garry couldn’t help grinning — even though it meant the Rockets had missed out on a chance to score. Luckily, the Cougars bobbled their goal attempt and the Rockets reclaimed possession. Two minutes and some quick passes later, the ball was in the Cougars net!
The third quarter ended with the Rockets within one goal of a win.
Coach Hasbrouck gave them a rousing pep talk during the short break and sent them back onto the field. Every Rocket out there was determined to take the game away from the Cougars.
But as the clock ticked downward, the score remained tied. Ten minutes to go. Five. And still it stood at Cougars 9, Rockets 9.
Then the Rockets got a lucky break. A Cougars defender, thinking Evan had the ball, slammed into the middie from behind.
Tweet! The referee blew a blast on his whistle and pointed a finger at the Cougar. “Illegal body check! One minute penalty!” he shouted.
Coach Hasbrouck clapped madly from the sidelines. “Power play! Now’s your chance, Rockets!”
With two minutes left to go, the Cougars were one man down on the field. The Rockets front line went into action. Garry, Michael, and Conor charged to the crease. Jeff sent the ball to Samuel, who carried it past the midfield line and rocketed it to Conor. Conor flashed a quick, sharp shot to Michael. Michael turned on his heel as if to pass to Garry — only to turn back, square up to the goal, and fake a shot. Evan streaked up behind Garry and received Michael’s pass. Michael then dashed across the crease in front of Garry, and held up his stick for a return pass.
It was a tricky maneuver, one that called for Evan to make a perfect pass around Garry.
Unfortunately, Evan’s pass was far from perfect. Instead of landing in Michael’s pocket, the ball flew over his head and right into the webbing of the goalie’s oversize stick head.
“Oh, good going, Wallis!” Evan fumed as they hustled back to help out the defense.
“What’re you blaming me for?” Garry returned angrily.
“You got in my way so I couldn’t see Michael!”
“Then you shouldn’t have tried passing to him!” Garry argued.
“Heads up!” Jeff’s warning came a second too late.
Blam! The hard rubber lacrosse ball struck Garry right in the helmet! He saw stars as he fell to the ground. Then he saw a stick reach past him and scoop up the ball. He wobbled to his feet just in time to see Michael race down the field, twist past two defenders, and put the ball in the net — moments before the buzzer sounded to end the game!
The Rockets had won! They whooped, belly-bumped each other, and slapped jumping high fives. Todd helped his brother to his feet and Garry celebrated along with his teammates — even though his head was ringing.
“Man,” he finally asked Jeff and Todd, “who threw that?”
Jeff started to answer but was interrupted.
“Nice assist, Wallis,” Michael drawled. “If I’d known you could use your head that way, I would have ricocheted one off your helmet long ago!” Laughing, he sauntered away to receive his teammates’ congratulations.
Garry stared from his brother to Jeff and back again. “Michael threw that ball at my head on purpose, didn’t he?” he demanded.
“Garry, come on, it must have been an accident,” Jeff said.
“Had to have been,” Todd put in, “Michael wouldn’t —”
“Oh, he would, and you know it!” Garry was so angry he spat the words. “I can’t believe you, Todd, of all people, are sticking up for him! And you,” he added, turning on Jeff, “I thought you were my friend!”
With that, he grabbed his gear and stormed away from the field, leaving Jeff and Todd staring at each other in disbelief.