CHAPTER 7

Benji

Benji got dressed up for his meeting with Lucy. Instead of just wearing the clothes he came to school in, he slipped out to his locker for an outfit change. When it was his turn, Lucy found him sporting head-to-toe “football” gear.

Benji spit out his mouth guard and said, “I love two things: unicorns and football. But since there’s already a world-famous unicorn, I want to be a famous football player!”

“But you’re not wearing a football uniform.” Lucy snorted. “You’re wearing a soccer uniform.”

Benji rolled his eyes. “Americans call it soccer, but the rest of the world calls it football. FIFA stands for Fédération Internationale de Football Association. One day, I dream of playing in the FIFA World Cup.”

Lucy checked the calendar on her phone. “We better hurry, then. The World Cup is this weekend.”

That weekend, famous agent Lucy LaRoux escorted Benji to Brazil for the final games of the tournament. Tens of thousands of soccer football fans sat in sold-out arenas, anxiously awaiting the first kick.

Lucy used her Ace Agent Agency connections to get Benji on the roster and in the game. He was now playing for Brazil. When Benji ran out onto the field, his heart swelled with pride. Sure, Benji didn’t have muscle, skill, or years of soccer football experience—but he didn’t let that bother him. He was about to play professional ball with his heroes.

As the Germans (the opposing team) took the field, they looked at Benji. Some laughed, others growled, and one said, “You’re dead meat.”

Benji gulped.

His teammates gave him a look of concern. The central midfielder said, “Good luck, kid.”

As the referee blew the whistle, the game began. After almost two whole minutes playing the game, the striker kicked the ball to Benji. This was the happiest moment of Benji’s young life.

And that was the last thing Benji remembered before everything went black.

Benji woke up in a hospital in a head-to-toe full-body cast. Little Benji got destroyed out there. That’s what happens when an untrained kid gets stomped by hundreds of pounds of professional German soccer players footballers.

He broke nearly every single bone in his body. So why was he smiling? His team had won. And since he was technically on the team—even if only for one hundred and twenty seconds—they let him have the trophy. It shined brighter than anything he’d ever seen.