Sports

Big Dreams for Number Seven

When Alicia awoke she first thought she was in heaven. Indeed, everything around her was white: the sheets, the curtains, the furnishings. She sat up in bed and instantly felt a shot of pain course through her knee. She lay back down and stared at the ceiling. Then it came back to her: it had been the fourth quarter with thirty seconds to go and Alicia’s basketball team, the Bulls, were in the lead by one point against the Devil Rays in the championship game. The recipe for disaster. Alicia had been shoving with the other team’s center in the low post when the shot went up from the point guard. She vaguely remembered jumping up against the center for the rebound… and then the other girl had hooked her knee and Alicia had collapsed to the floor. The last thing she remembered was her coach’s worried face above her. And thinking that she had just got her game high record: forty-two points. A doctor came in. “You took a nasty spill there. A ripped tendon in your knee. We’ve done the surgery.” “How long will it take to get better?” said Alicia, feeling dread seep through her chest. “About a year,” said the doctor, “just for it to heal, of course. After that you’ll have to finish physical therapy. You won’t be able to play next season.” Alicia blinked. Next year she would be a senior. Next year was the year she could get a scholarship to Duke, her dream school. Next year was supposed to be her year to be the best of the best and show it to the world. She was already the best forward on her team. And now she was going to miss her one dream she had had since she was eight years old. “You should really do this, Al. It would be good for you” “No basketball,” she repeated. “I’m afraid so. It’s a bad tear.” Alicia sat back. That was all she could take in for now. She wondered if the Bulls had won the championship. *          *          * Alicia’s mother and father drove her home and helped her up the stairs of their house. She was still getting used to the crutches she had been given. Alicia then sat in a chair across from her parents. Alicia’s family was not poor but they were not wealthy. She knew that her parents had wanted nothing more than for their basketball star to get a sports scholarship to one of the best schools in the nation. “There it goes,” Alicia said. “There goes what?” Alicia’s mother asked, looking sad. “My opportunity to get a scholarship.” Alicia knew that her parents would try to make it sound like it didn’t really matter. But she knew better than that. It was her father who had first told her about scholarships in sports and taught her how to play basketball. “Alicia, you know that’s not the only dream in the world. There are other things that matter. Like academics.” There it was. Her father was trying to put a good face on things. Her parents stood up and went into the kitchen. Alicia hobbled upstairs and collapsed onto her bed. She couldn’t deal with the fact that she would probably not play any college basketball. Or make it to the WNBA. Just then the phone rang. Alicia picked it up and saw on her caller ID that it was her coach. “Hi, Alicia. I thought you’d want to know who won the game,” he said. “Yeah, I do! Did we win?” Alicia crossed her fingers again, anxiously awaiting his answer. “The Bulls won, Alicia. And I hope you know that we couldn’t have done it without you. The Devil Rays couldn’t get another shot off.” Alicia let out a relieved breath. But then again, she felt the same as she had before. What was the point if she couldn’t play next year? “That’s great,” she managed to say. “Thank you.” “You know that there were scouts at that game. Forty-two points must have looked pretty promising to them, don’t you think? How’s your knee, Alicia?” “I can’t play next year.” “Your family told me. But today I saw this brochure for basketball summer camps for girls. They’re looking for coaches. Sounds like just the thing you could do while still healing. I’ll drop it off if you want.” Alicia said halfheartedly that it sounded great and then said goodbye. She then lay down on her bed again and fell into a dreamless sleep. *          *          * When Alicia woke up she found the basketball camp brochure on her bedside table. She went downstairs to call Emily King, one of her teammates. Alicia needed to talk to someone. Emily said that she’d come over. When Emily came into Alicia’s room she saw the camp pamphlet. “This looks really fun,” she said. “If Coach had recommended me I wouldn’t hesitate! You should really do this, Al. It would be good for you.” “I can’t even play next season,” Alicia said. “How am I supposed to wrangle a bunch of grade-school girls?” “Come on, Al.” Emily raised her eyebrows. “When we were in fourth grade you were the one who taught me how to play basketball.” “I still don’t know,” said Alicia. “Well I do. Sign up for it, and if you change your mind I’ll do it for you.” After Emily left, Alicia thought about the summer camp. Both her coach and Emily were right. It would be good for her to share her talent with others, even if she couldn’t use it for herself. It might be fun, anyway, teaching her favorite sport to little girls. *          *          * It was now late in June and the first session of the All-Star Girls Basketball Camp was beginning that day. When she arrived at the gym and saw all the little girls she was surprised to realize that for the first time since she had injured

Bullfighter

It’s a hot, dry August evening on the Oklahoma panhandle. The sun is going down and the crickets have begun to sing. There’s no breeze at all tonight, nothing to ease the blistering heat. I am twenty-three years old. I finished four years of college before I realized that a banker’s life was not for me. Right after graduation, I joined the PRCA, the Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association, and haven’t looked back since. I’ve traveled across the country riding bulls… big, mean, strong bulls. But through it all, what I’ve really wanted is a different kind of rodeo job. Tonight I’m going to make my dreams a reality I’ll be one of two clowns at a local rodeo. Unlike circus clowns, rodeo clowns have a dangerous job. We’re not just there to make the crowd laugh. During the bull riding, we become bullfighters, distracting the bulls to help keep the riders safe. I slip into my costume. I pull on overalls that have had the legs cut out so they resemble a skirt. I need to be able to move freely and turn fast. I pull on tights underneath to cover my legs. They are bright and colorful to attract the bulls’ attention. I’ll wear a cowboy hat but that goes on later. I begin to paint my face. It takes longer than anything else. As I am finishing up my makeup, I look into the mirror. I see my mother enter the room behind me. Her lips tremble and her tense white fists are pressed together. Her face is pale and ghost-like. Her eyes plead with me. “Matthew,” she says, “please listen to me. Don’t do this, honey I love you too much to see you put yourself in so much danger.” “But Mom,” I tell her; “I don’t really have a choice. This job chose me, remember?” “But Mom,” I tell her, “I don’t really have a choice. This job chose me, remember?” The look in her eyes tells me that she remembers all too well. I walk across the room and wrap my arms around her. I tell her that I am listening to her. That I really do understand her concerns. Then I tell her again that I really must do this. Not only for myself, but for Charlie too. Just then, my father limps through the door to join us. Dad used to fight bulls. He’ll understand. He smiles at me. Then he puts one hand on my shoulder and says, “All right, Matthew… ready to go?” “Yeah, Pop,” I tell him. I turn once more to my frightened mother and say, “All right, Mom, we’re going now. Wish me luck.” She pulls me close. She hugs me hard. She starts to cry I tell her once again not to worry. “Please be careful,” she says. I’m not sure if she’s crying for Charlie or for me. But then, I don’t guess it really matters. I tell Dad that he can drive. We climb up into our rickety old Ford pickup. It is so badly rusted that its original color cannot be determined. My father bought it brand new in 1950. He says that it was black then, but you couldn’t tell that by looking at it today. It only takes ten minutes to drive to the local rodeo grounds. When we arrive, almost every seat is filled. The rodeo began over an hour ago, but bull riding is always the last event of the night. The bulls wait impatiently in small pens behind an iron gate. There are Brahmas and Brahma crosses, Charolais, and scrappy Mexican fighting bulls. Their breed doesn’t matter. All that matters is that they buck. There is only one given in bull riding. Those bulls will try to kick, trample and crush anything that’s in their way, including me. I slide out of the truck and turn to my dad. “Now remember,” he says “I’ll be back to pick you up at ten o’clock. I’m going home so that I can be with your mother. If you need anything, call the house. Knock ’em dead, cowboy” he says to me, and then he is gone. I spot my partner for tonight, another clown named Slim, and go to say hello. Along the way I pass cowboys who all greet me happily. Most don’t know my name but they’re glad to see me anyway. One look at my clothes tells them that I am a bullfighter. I will risk my life to grant them a few seconds of safety They know that I will at least give them the chance to get up off the ground and run to the fence, avoiding danger. In the chutes, they’re getting the first bulls ready. A bull rope is slung around each bull’s belly, and is snugged up right behind their front legs. One end of the rope is called the tail. It gets passed through a loop on the other end of the rope and then the rope is tightened. The cowboys then wrap the remainder of the tail around their hands to secure their grip. A sticky substance called rosin is applied to the tail to keep it from slipping. If you listen hard, you can hear the occasional clanging of cowbells as the bulls mill around in the chute. The bells are hung on the bull rope for weight. When a cowboy lets go of the rope, this weight will cause the rope to fall harmlessly to the ground, so that no one has to remove it from an angry bull. Later, when the bulls are turned loose and are bucking wildly, you can hear the cowbells easily. Of course, by then everyone is too distracted to even notice it. The sun has gone down completely now as I walk out into the dusty arena. The first bull rider is preparing to climb aboard his bull. I secure my position, not too far away from the chute but not so

The New Soccer Season

Noel seemed to hang in the air for a second before crashing into the ground. The grass rushed up to meet him as his lungs were crushed by the impact. Dazed, Noel looked around. The soccer ball was snatched away quickly as the opposition took control. The stifled laughs that followed made Noel wish he were dead. Slowly, like so many times before, he stood and walked away No one intervened. History seems to like repeating itself, thought Noel bitterly. The same thing had happened yesterday And the day before that. Just as Noel was finding his stride in the soccer game, one of the kids would do something to humiliate him. Noel never said a word. He just picked himself up and walked away. They aren’t mean, thought Noel dejectedly I’m just not one of them. But I’m strong, thought Noel. I can wait it out. Once I make the soccer team I can meet some new people. But as the bell rang, Noel couldn’t help but wish that he had at least one friend who could really understand him. Noel walked to the doors, hiding his disappointment at the day’s game. Just as he stepped into the school, Noel saw that lunch was over. He bent down to collect his books for his next class. As he stood, he was suddenly standing face-to-face with a girl from one of his classes. She stood, holding her books, flicking her brown ponytail back over her head, and blocking his path. “Do you want to get better at soccer?” she asked. Noel was taken by surprise. “What?” “Do you want to get better at soccer?” she asked “Don’t you want to show the people out there how good you are?” Noel had no idea if she was picking on him or joking. Unsure of what to say, he blurted, “Who are you?” She smiled. “What, you’ve been here for a week and you still don’t know who I am? I’m in your science class, remember? Sarah Nusterwicz sound familiar?” Now that Noel thought about it, it did. She sat in the row behind him, but they never talked before. “Well? Do you?” Sarah looked expectantly at him. “I could teach you some stuff.” “What? How?” Sarah smiled again. “Just meet me here after school, OK? I want to help you.” Noel was surprised at the sudden conversation. He just stared as she turned and headed off. *          *          * The bell rang, and immediately a scurry of papers and books drowned out the teacher’s last words. Kids rushed out of the classroom, eager to chat with their friends and enjoy the rest of the day Noel went to his locker and got his bag. Hefting it on his shoulder, he walked slowly down the hall. Noel saw her leaning at a corner of the hallway near the doors to the fields and courts. Her book bag was at her feet, and she was gracefully juggling a soccer ball. It hopped from her knees to her feet, then leapt up obediently to her head. Seeing Noel out of the corner of her eye, she let the ball drop to her feet, passing it to Noel. Noel flicked the ball up, feeling good to be touching a soccer ball again. He juggled it twice on his knees, then passed it back. Sarah caught it in her hands. “So,” she said, “you came. I was afraid you were going to get lost or something. Let’s go outside.” Noel followed Sarah out. The weather was bright and sunny, small breezes pushing Noel’s hair back as they walked to the field. A perfect day. “You’re new here, right?” “I’ve been here for a week and you still don’t know that?” Sarah glanced at him, then laughed. “You learn fast. I hope you learn fast enough to make the team.” Noel stared at her. “What? You aren’t trying out?” Noel was stung by her remark. “Of course I will! And why would I need your help?” Sarah turned to face him. “Listen, I’ve watched you at lunch, and you’re pretty good. But right now the other kids know that you’re new, so they’re taking advantage of you by being over-aggressive. I felt bad and decided that I’d help you.” “What’s there to teach me?” “Well, I’m just saying. There’s some things you might want to know before you go try out.” Noel paused for a moment, and then smiled. He decided that he liked her attitude. “Thanks. I guess you’re the only person here who has ever noticed me. Do you play soccer, too?” “Soccer?” scoffed Sarah. “I’m just about the best goalkeeper in our grade, including the boys. Would you like to see?” She rolled the soccer ball to him, took out some worn goalie gloves from her backpack, and stood in front of the goal, in the natural goalkeeper stance. Noel was incredulous. Shooting on a girl? Noel thought desperately of what to do. He didn’t want to make Sarah feel bad if he scored. She seemed like the only friend that Noel would ever have. But back at his old school, he was always the champion shooter on his team. Penalty kick? No problem. Bending corner kick? A breeze. He flexed his foot. As Noel swung, he glanced at Sarah. Her eyes were riveted on him, unnerving him. The ball shot low and hard towards the goal. Sarah merely sidestepped and blocked the ball with her foot. “You’re holding back, aren’t you?” she said. “Shoot like you were doing at lunch!” Noel felt himself redden. He decided to go for an upper corner. Going for the upper corners was always his signature at his old school. As long as the ball was still and he had time to prepare, Noel could drill a shot that would match no other. All the goalkeepers at his school would be frozen, watching helplessly as Noel scored with ease. Noel backed up, taking care not to give