Read Online Double Fake by Rich Wallace - Free Book Online

wide.
    “Let’s kick butt,” Calvin said. He knew Angel could run all day, like he could. Calvin respected that.
    Second half. Both teams still looked cautious, studying the situation, hoping for a quick opening that could break the tie, but also unwilling to take a risk that could give the other team an advantage.
    Calvin knew this was the type of game where one great athletic play—the kind he was capable of—could make all the difference. He kept looking for that chance, but the opponents’ defense was solid.
    By the midpoint of the half, Calvin’s frustration was growing. Need to tire them out, he thought. He fielded a pass from Angel and shouted, “Let’s move!”
    He dribbled hard, darting across the center line and cutting toward the sideline. Two defenders hustled over and had him trapped.
    Zero yelled, “Support!” from behind, but Calvin booted the ball way up the field and kept chasing it.
    A defensive player trapped the ball and chipped it ahead. Calvin kept running toward the ball, and he and Orlando converged on the midfielder who had it. That player quickly passed to one of those short, quick forwards, who dribbled rapidly along the sideline, heading for Little Italy territory.
    Calvin’s teammates had caught on and began swarming toward the ball, moving with greater energy and intensity. It seemed like every time an opponent got the ball, there were two Little Italy players in his face. Long runs, quick passes, and increased hustle led to shots on goal by Zero and Mary. But as the clock wound down, the game remained scoreless.
    “Two minutes,” said the official as Orlando took the ball near midfield for a throw-in.
    Orlando stepped forward and made a mighty heave toward Angel. Angel came up and met the ball, sliding it across the top of the goal box. Calvin was there, sprinting in and shielding the ball from a defender.
    There was no clear shot, but time was running out. Calvin planted his right foot and shot awkwardly with his left, sending the ball on a soft line drive toward the center of the goal. The goalie scrambled over, ready to make the easy save, but seemingly out of nowhere a defender stepped in front, heading the ball toward the corner of the field.
    It looked like a heroic play, but unfortunately for Hector’s, it backfired. Orlando was there, chipping the ball back in front of the goal. Angel lunged for it, catching it squarely with his forehead and knocking it across the goal line and into the net. The Little Italy players leaped and yelled as their opponents stared in disbelief.
    Angel shook his fists and dropped to his knees, shouting, “Yes!” as his teammates surrounded him.
    “Keep it up!” Calvin shouted. “Everything we’ve got now. Intensity!”
    The final minute ticked away as Hector’s frantically tried to even the score. Zero made a steal. The whistle blew. Little Italy was going to the final.
    Calvin raised both arms toward the sky and let out a furious breath. He wanted that title. Now it was within his grasp.

12
    Pineapple Soda
    “T omorrow night,” Coach Diaz said as his jubilant team gathered around him. “Game time is seven o’clock. Be here by six fifteen.”
    “Championship game,” said Angel, who’d been soaked with water by his teammates after scoring the winning goal.
    “We had two losses all season, and we avenged the first one tonight,” Coach said. “Now get a good rest and be ready to make amends for the second one.”
    Calvin put his hand on Angel’s shoulder as they walked off. “You made the difference,” he said.
    Angel shrugged. “Just was in the right place at the right time,” he said. “Orlando made the play.”
    “Wasn’t just that,” Calvin said. “You’ve been getting better every game.”
    “We all have.”
    Calvin’s parents and sister had walked over.
    “Okay if me and Zero hang out awhile?” Calvin asked.
    “I suppose,” Mr. Tait said. “Thought you might want to go out and celebrate with us.”
    Calvin