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problemo.”
    They made a wide path around the dog and began walking toward First Street again. “We’ll be back,” Calvin said to the Count. The Count did not acknowledge them.
    They walked a block in silence.
    “Pretty weird,” Zero finally said.
    Calvin let out a low whistle. “You got that right.” Carolina’s Cantina was full of people. All the tables were full and several men were leaning against the counter, watching a soccer game on the little TV. The round man who ran the place at night recognized Zero and Calvin and smiled as they came in. “Hola,” he called.
    “Hola,” Calvin answered. “Big game?”
    “Barcelona,” the man said. “Big game.”
    “Us, too,” Calvin said. “Won our playoff game tonight. Championship game tomorrow.”
    “Bueno,” came the answer. “Excellent.”
    “Mucho,” Calvin said. “Big thirst.”
    The man grinned. Calvin grabbed a pineapple soda. Zero decided to try mandarin orange.
    “Get two of those,” Calvin said.
    “One for your dad?”
    “Nah. Got an idea.”
    They paid for the drinks. The man at the counter said, “Good luck tomorrow.”
    “Gracias,” Calvin replied, using one of the last Spanish words he knew.
    They walked back up to the Boulevard and over to Third Street, where the Count and his dog still stood.
    “Four up, four down,” the Count said without even being asked.
    “Pretty exciting,” Calvin said. He stood behind the bench. “Got sodas. Got one for you.”
    The Count took a quick glance at Calvin, then resumed looking up and down the Boulevard for buses.
    “Want it?” Calvin said, holding up the extra bottle.
    The Count did not look over.
    “It’s really good,” Calvin said. He took a long swallow from his own bottle. He set the unopened one on the bench. “I’ll just put this here in case you want it. It’s not open. We didn’t spit in it or anything like that.”
    They all watched the road for a few minutes. Then the dog stiffened and let out another woof as a bus came up the hill from Jersey City.
    “That clinches it,” Calvin said.
    The Count nodded. “Five up, four down,” he said.
    Calvin turned to Zero. “Guess we should get going.”
    “Guess so,” said Zero. “Just leave the bottle for him?”
    Calvin shrugged. “Yeah. Maybe he’ll drink it if we leave.” He drummed on the top of the bench for a few seconds, then said, “Have a good night, my man. You too, doggy. We gotta get some sleep. Tomorrow evening we’ll be counting goals. ”

13
    Overtime?
    T he biggest crowd of the season was on its feet, applauding the move Calvin had made. With time ticking down toward the end of the first half, he’d raced all the way up from his sweeper position to add some offensive pressure when Orlando set up a corner kick. Orlando had lofted the ball right in front of the goal, and Calvin sneaked into the chaos, stole the ball from Johnny Rodriguez, and fired it into the net, tying the score.
    “One up, one down!” called Zero as Calvin came back to the defensive end.
    Calvin grinned. Bauer Electric had controlled the action for most of the half, but had managed just one goal. It was anybody’s game now. Either team could win the championship.
    The whistle blew a minute later and the Little Italy players ran to the sideline, shaking their fists and whooping. All season long they’d been a second-half team. They could already feel the shift in momentum.
    “We own the second half,” Coach Diaz said. “Zero, Orlando, and Mary up front. Angel and Calvin at midfield.”
    Calvin put his hand on top of Angel’s bristly head. “Let’s go, little man. Constant pressure.”
    Angel nodded. “We’ll shut them down,” he said. “They won’t get by us.”
    Calvin walked to the bench and took a seat next to Zero. “Ready to run?”
    “All day,” Zero said. He’d played goalie in the first half, so his legs were fresh. Everything was looking good.
    Of course, Bauer Electric put all of its strength up front, too,