I was right about the tickets. And the team.
I wait for Dad at our usual spot outside the south gate. Fans flow around me, shouting, singing and sounding horns. A familiar whistle cuts through the noise, and I find Dad in the sea of red shirts and waving flags. It takes us a while to shuffle through the crowds at the gate and work our way up the ramps. Enough time for me to tell Dad about our game and explain the shiner.
“Where are the tickets?” I raise my voice over the buzz.
“Same as always,” Dad says. “Halfway up. Corner of the eighteen-yard box.”
My favorite spot—high enough to see the action, close enough to watch the goals. Right where our season tickets used to be.
The stadium is almost full, and it’s still fifteen minutes to kickoff.
“Too bad Alex didn’t come,” says Dad. “He’s going to miss a great game.”
“Too much homework.”
“How about you?”
“No homework in co-op.” I grin.
“Right! You’re working with the Lancers. I bet your coach pulled strings for that! What have they got you doing? Taping up ankles?”
“Come on, Dad—I’m seventeen. I can’t treat anyone. But I get to watch everything.”
“Watch?”
“That’s what co-op is for. I’ve learned so much already. How to treat injuries. How to recover. How to avoid getting reinjured. And I—”
“Well, I guess it’s a step up from the boot room. Two steps up from carrying towels.”
If he only knew. Laying out towels and supplies is mostly what I do in co-op. Plus filing and setting up equipment.
“There’s nothing wrong with carrying towels, Dad. Everyone in the academy has chores.”
He sniffs. “Like cleaning muddy soccer cleats?”
“You can learn a lot by looking at cleats. That’s another thing the physios taught me.”
Dad shakes his head. “I still can’t believe they make you work for free.”
“We play for free. You’d still be paying for soccer if we played rep.”
“Oh, that reminds me. Give this to your mom.” He hands me a fat envelope with money in it. “Tell her I’m sorry it’s late.”
“Sure.” Talking to him is like kicking a soccer ball against a wall.
I know something that’ll grab his attention. The fantasy soccer league standings.
“Well, look at that!” He thumbs through my team. “Good picks! So tell me, who’s winning tonight?”
“The Lancers.”
“Is that loyalty talking?”
“Nope. They’ll cream Portland, 2–0 or 3–0. Safe bet with Kolo out for Portland and Benson coming back for the Lancers.”
He looks up from the phone. “Benson’s suiting up?”
“Yeah. We saw him today at co-op. He’s not starting, but they’ll put him in later.”
“How do you know that?”
“I told you. I heard them say it.”
“Is that right?” Dad’s wearing a smug smile. “Good enough for me then.”
A few minutes later, he waves to someone in the stands. “Hey, Luka! Luka!”
A young guy in khakis and mirrored shades comes over. Very GQ. The kind of guy who gets top marks from girls and their parents.
“Just the man I wanted to see.”
“Rick. Good to see you. I thought you’d be here.”
There’s something European about his voice.
“I have interesting news for you. Sit with us. We have an extra seat.”
“Maybe until the game starts. You know me—I like to watch from the rail.” He glances over at me. “This must be one of your hotshot soccer players.”
Dad sticks out his chest. “That’s right. Pride of the Lancers.” I get a warm feeling inside.
Luka reaches over to shake my hand. He grips it hard. “So. Are you Jack? Or Alex?”
“Jack. Nice to meet you.”
I move over a seat. He edges past Dad and sits between us.
He points a finger at me. “The left back, yes?”
“That’s right.” Huh. I guess Dad listens more than I thought. “Alex couldn’t come. Too much homework.”
“But not you?” Luka gives a half smile. “Rick said you were smart.”
He did? I lean back in my seat, trying to look cool. “I’m in co-op. With the Lancers physio team.”
“Really! You work with the first team?”
“Since February.”
“Lucky you!” He leans forward. “Tell me what it’s like.”
“You sure? No one ever wants to talk and rehab plans. At least, not for long.”
“I do. That’s what I want to study—sports medicine or physiotherapy.”
I look at Luka again and dial down his age. He can’t be much older than I am. And he’s actually interested!
“Well, there’s way more to it than I realized.” I explain how closely the physios and trainers work with the coaching staff to get a player back on the field.
“They’re like a team too.”
“Exactly!”
“Is it helpful that you play soccer?” he asks.
“Oh, 100 percent. Knowing the game is key. So is knowing the team. But I’ve been studying all that for years. I keep stats on the players and the teams. I watch the coaches too. You know, when they sub in players and who they play.”
“Hmm. Sounds complicated. But it works?”
Dad pipes in. “Does it work? Show him your fantasy standings, Jack.”
“Okay. But it’s not easy to see on my phone. The screen’s bashed up.” I’m amazed it still turns on, actually. It’s practically an antique.
“Here, use mine.” Luka hands me his phone, and I pull up the fantasy league.
I point to my name.
“That’s you? You’re Jack Attack?”
“The one and only.”
“What did I tell you? Smart as they come.” Dad reaches over and punches my shoulder. “So, Luka, what’s the spread on tonight’s game?”
“Lancers by two.”
“Good. Put me down for a hundred on the Lancers.”
Luka’s eyebrows go up. “That’s an interesting wager.”
“Jack’s advice, actually.”
A hundred bucks? On my advice? Cool!
Wait, what advice?
“He says Benson’s back in form. Tell him, Jack.”
“Dad!” I give him a dirty look.
He just holds up his hands. “What? That’s what you told me.”
“Not so you could spread it around.”
Luka sounds confused. “Spread what around, Rick?”
“They’re putting Benson in.”
Luka’s mouth opens, but the loudspeaker drowns him out. The players file out, and the fans rock the stadium.
We rise for the national anthem. The music fills me here like it never does at school. I stand tall and straighten my shoulders.
I’m part of this club. One day it could be me down there. My name the crowds shout. My face on the Jumbotron.
Stamping feet, whistles and cheers drown out the last notes and shake the stands. I feel it rumble in my feet. On my skin. The wave of sound is so dense, I could crowd-surf on it. This is why Alex fills his fantasy roster with Lancers. Even the broken ones.