The Save

The moment she raised her hand, Casey feared she had made a terrible mistake.

“OK,” Coach said. “Casey will be our goalie in the fourth quarter.”

Casey just nodded. It was the first game of her first season. She had joined the Eagles only because her friends had encouraged her to. Now she had volunteered to be goalie, a position that required a lot of confidence, which she lacked.

“Why did you do that?” Lindsay asked as she brushed past. “We want to win this game.”

Casey wondered the same thing as she took her turn in front of the goal for pregame warm-ups. The goal suddenly looked as big as a movie screen. “How am I supposed to protect that?” she wondered.

The rest of the team lined up about fifteen yards away, and, one by one, they charged toward the goal, booting line drives past her. Swish! To the right, to the left, over her head, between her legs.

Casey remembered the district spelling bee a month earlier. She and Lindsay had represented their school in the fourth-grade division, but they were eliminated in the first round when Casey misspelled aquatic. It was a word she had known how to spell in third grade. But there were microphones and lots of people, and Casey just froze up.

“You ruined our big chance,” Lindsay had said. “Why did you volunteer if you didn’t know how to spell?” Those words still stung when Casey thought about them.

Casey jogged over to her dad near the sidelines. “Are you ready?” he asked with a smile.

Casey looked up, wondering if he hadn’t been watching as she let what seemed like a hundred balls go by her in warm-ups.

“I can’t do it,” she said quietly, blinking back tears. “I’m too nervous.”

“Sure you can do it,” Dad said. “Just keep your head up and be aggressive. When you see the ball coming toward you, go get it. Take charge.”

“What if I can’t stop any shots?” Casey said. “What if they score ten goals?”

“Well, I guess that wouldn’t be much fun,” Dad said. “But it won’t be the end of the world either. Just do your best. You might surprise yourself.”

Casey took her position at midfield. League rules required that players switch position in each quarter, so she would get a chance to play in the field before taking over the goalie position in the fourth quarter.

Casey’s teammates scored three quick goals. They were clearly the better team, mostly because their opponents’ best player was at a piano recital. At halftime the Eagles led, 4 to 0.

“Let’s score ten more,” Casey urged her teammates, hoping for a large lead to carry into the fourth quarter. But then she noticed the Comets’ star, number 25, racing toward the field. The piano recital had ended.

Suddenly number 25 was flashing across the field, dribbling past defenders. She zipped past Kelly and Lindsay and booted the ball into the goal. It was 4 to 1.

Two minutes later, number 25 intercepted a pass and weaved down the field, controlling the ball as if it were tied to her foot. She scored again. It was 4 to 2.

Casey felt her stomach tighten the way it had at the spelling bee. In a few minutes she would be the one helplessly guarding the goal, watching the ball whiz past. The ball came to her, but she wasn’t paying attention, and number 25 quickly pounced on it. Soon she had scored again. The Eagles led by only one goal.

“OK, Casey,” Coach said as the Eagles huddled up before the fourth quarter. “You’re in goal.”

“Don’t blow it this time,” Lindsay said as she ran past.

Casey stood in front of the net, which now looked as big as the Grand Canyon. She yelled for her teammates, who were dominating the game again. They hadn’t scored, but Casey hadn’t had to make any saves either. Number 25 appeared to be tired.

Casey’s heart raced whenever the ball came toward her, but a teammate managed to kick it away each time.

There were two minutes left.

“Hurry up,” Casey thought. “If I never have to touch the ball, we’ll win the game. I’ll never volunteer for anything again.”

Suddenly number 25 had the ball and was racing up the sideline. She moved toward the center of the field, keeping the ball on a steady roll in front of her. She darted past Kelly and around Olivia, then cut sharply, angling directly toward the goal.

Casey stood still, focused on her opponent’s determined face. Number 25 slipped between Becca and Lindsay, then emerged just ten yards from the goal, with nothing but grass between her and Casey.

“Be aggressive,” Casey told herself. “Take charge.” She stepped to her left, keeping her body between the ball and the goal.

Number 25 planted her right foot and swung her left leg with a powerful kick that launched the ball like a rocket. Casey stretched as far as she could and felt a sting as the ball slapped her fingertips and blew past.

As Casey tumbled to the ground, she glanced back and saw the ball slam off the goal post and bounce toward the corner of the field. Number 25 was there in an instant.

Casey scrambled to her feet and backed quickly toward the net as number 25 sent another shot at the goal. Casey dived. The ball sizzled through her hands and thudded against her chest. She squeezed her arms tightly, hugging the ball like a puppy. What a wonderful feeling.

Casey rolled to her feet, ran a few steps, and punted the ball toward midfield, where it bounced toward the other end. A minute later the clock ran out. Casey looked to the sidelines, where her dad was yelling, “Way to go, goalie!”

When she turned back, Lindsay was next to her. “Nice save!” she said with a smile.

Casey shook her hand and said thanks. Her heart was racing as she ran off the field with her teammates to celebrate their first victory. Out of breath, Casey called, “Hey, Coach, can I play goalie next week, too?”

 

By Steve Garagiola