Champion

By Héctor M Curiel

A funny tale about a teenager whose best quality is to be a good goalkeeper.

Lynx meets Sara, and then tries to mesmerize her using football, his only attraction weapon.

Or so Lynx believes, he changes clubs -and teams- and therefore complicates his already difficult schoolyear, cheating and distressing friends and family. An untenable situation as it grows...

Can Lynx bring this plan to fruition, or will he end up losing the game of his life?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Héctor M Curiel
• Release date: Jul 1, 2019
• ISBN: 9781999172602

Book preview

writer.

Dedication

To Danielle, Sebastian, and Roxanne.

Who have inspired me to get up when I fall down.

Some people think football is a matter of life and death. I'm very disappointed with that attitude. I assure you, it's much more serious than that.

-Bill Shankly

Minute 1

Lynx, get to the net now! Shouted Coach Studer. You’re late!

After dropping my backpack in between everybody else’s, making sure the letters were clearly visible, and putting on my cleats as fast as I could, I stood up and put on my finger-saver gloves while quickly jogging towards the net.

I was late for the first formal practice and I knew that Studer didn’t like that, he would probably punish me, making me do push-ups and work harder than the rest. I was late because I had waited outside school for Sara to appear. She never showed up. Not that we planned anything, I just knew she walked that way. The only girl that I’ve ever liked and she doesn’t even know who I am.

The day I met Coach Studer, I got there earlier than everybody else. including him. I had bright yellow letters that spelled out Lynx fixed to my backpack, and positioned in a way that all of my new teammates would notice them. As every player knows, a good goalkeeper will always be compared to a feline.

I introduced myself to Coach Studer when he arrived, doing so before everybody else. Nobody except for me and four other kids went to that first unofficial practice.

You must be Coach Studer. I said, with the firmest conviction I could muster.

Yes, that’s right. And you are? He produced a players’ list and scanned through it.

Lynx, I said again decisively, they call me Lynx.

Well… but, what’s your name? He looked at me with a puzzled expression.

You must have me there as Lynx, or perhaps Michel? I said.

Oh! There you are. You’re here as Lino.

What? It has to be Lynx!

That’s all right. What’s wrong with Lino? He was still puzzled, perhaps because of my stubbornness.

I answer to Lynx only. I softened my tone. And I like it.

That’s fine, Lynx it is. Welcome to the team. I’ll introduce you to everybody else once more people are here. Only you and two other players are new to the team.

How many are we? I wanted to know everything about my new team.

We are only sixteen, on paper anyway. There they come. He pointed to a pair of players emerging from the parking lot. I am glad you joined us, we really needed a goalkeeper, and you’ll find our defence top-notch.

I’m ready to work hard. I said, convincingly raising my voice a little bit so that the approaching players could hear me.

That’s good, because I will make you ALL work hard. He turned to the other boys. Hey, guys. Nice to see you again, this here is, um, Lynx.

Nice to meet you, I said, I’m Lynx. And you are?

And after initial introductions, kicking the ball back and forth, and waiting for more people to show up and so on, I wanted to convince myself I was ON the team.

While walking to the bus stop, I mentally reviewed everything I had prepared beforehand, to make things perfectly: from my finger-saver gloves, to my new shin pads, and the three skin-colour compression tops I purchased at the runners’ shop. Quite tight, just as I wanted them, but with enough cushioning so that my chest wouldn’t hurt in case I get a hard ball right there. I had also made a list with what I needed to always carry: towel, full water bottle, sports tape, old gloves -just in case-, second pair of socks, etc. etc. I put it in the backpack’s front pocket, and also made a copy and stuck it in my closet.

I was so happy that I felt like dancing the entire bus ride all the way home.

Now, with the first official practice of the season, and knowing well the names of four of my teammates, it would be a matter of two more sessions, at most, before I would learn everybody else’s names.

I had had practiced by myself the day before: just warming up, doing the series of Movement Preparation exercises that my previous coach, Alexander, had taught me and referred to as MP. I did those for fifteen minutes. I had also used a roller to warm up my legs and a small solid ball to stretch my deltopectoral groove. Then, some more flexibility and dynamic stretching. I also did some running with the ball and some dribbling, followed by around the world, until I was sweating hard. I took a sip of water, rested for three minutes, rehearsed the basic goalkeeper position and mentally visualized the positioning of hands and body to catch balls below the waist, at waist height, and high ones. To finish, I did some core strengthening exercises.

I was kind of amazed I could remember and do all that by myself. There were a few exercises I know I forgot, but I can always go back and check my notes. Perhaps Coach Studer knows all about these exercises as well.

However, the first official practice was uneventful. It was more of a gelling together kind of practice, while Studer watched our individual ball skills, and obviously my skills in net. I’m sure he was satisfied with what he saw me do. Even so, I was worried to death about really being part of the team. All of the boys seemed so at ease, but I felt I still was not fully accepted as a player, I had this urge for them to talk to me as if we had met long ago, or for Coach to say something that made me feel I was really a member of the group.

During practice, our assistant coach, Victor, however, had some questions. I am going to work with you more than Studer, because I usually train the goalkeepers and defense.

That’s good. I said coyly.

So, why ‘Lynx’? He asked.

I’m used to it. I’ve been called so ever since I was ten or eleven, don’t remember.

Okay. And how long have you played as goalkeeper? He asked in a way that begged for a longer explanation.

Since then. That’s when they started calling me Lynx. I elaborated calmly. They said that I looked like a large cat playing with a ball.

I see. He was looking intently into my eyes as he sent the ball to me, asking a question each time he sent one. And, why did you change clubs?

Someone told me you guys were a very good team and needed a goalkeeper. That’s why.

Yes, but who told you that?

I started to feel annoyed. I don’t really remember that. It must have been one of my dad’s friends.

And you just left your team and club to come here with us, just like that? He was being very inquisitive.

Listen, Victor, I already told all of that to Studer, and my parents provided all kind of information to the club. I softened my tone. Why don’t we focus on practice and we go over what’s still missing as we go?

He seemed to notice my discomfort. No problem. Just wanted to know you a little bit better, that’s all.

I might have been a little bit rude, but I was glad the questioning stopped.

At the end, Coach Studer just repeated what most of us already knew: the next practice’s date and time, and that our first game would be two weekends from this one.

This time, on the bus ride home, I kept thinking that it would be a longer and more difficult season for me, in every aspect, but I’d signed up for it, so I should be accountable for my own actions. I felt that all went well, because nobody had asked me anything personal, and most of them seemed to have included me into the team immediately after we interacted.

All except Williams. He had looked at me funny from the moment I shook hands and told him that I was Lynx.

I hope he didn’t really notice anything, or my plan would come crashing to the ground, before even taking off.

Minute 4

Wake up! Said Mike. My best friend then, given the circumstances.

I’m awake, I replied.

Yes, finally. He looked concerned, you look like a zombie. She does that to you.

What are you talking about? I really wanted to know.

Every time you talk to Sara. You become someone else, a stutter of some sort.

What?

It’s true. He looked at me intently, your language becomes flowery and slow, and you stutter so much it seems like you’re doing it on purpose.

I had no idea… how I … I was in disbelief at what he was telling me, but he seemed to be acting out of honesty and concern, as usual.

Well? What did she say?

I didn’t dare ask her.

What? You’ve been planning to tell her forever!

I know. Just that I wanted to be polite… I realized I hadn’t spoken about myself or the game, and only answered her questions and such.

You know what, dude? He was disappointed, you need to come back to being you again. Savvy?

And he left just me there, as if punishing me.

It was the day I went to school, just before classes started, that I met Sara. The staff lady introducing us all new students to the school setup and facilities was explaining everything about the office, the gym, the classrooms, the blocks, the times, the cafeteria, and everything there was to learn about the school, but I was not paying attention to any of that, Sara infatuated me.

She didn’t even notice me, she was paying attention to what the lady said. I did hear every single word, but could not follow or remember anything.

Sara was about my height, skinnier than the average woman. Her light brown hair was long, straight and silky. Light brown colour skin gave the impression her parents were from different races. The honey-green of her eyes caught me. Those were not big brownish eyes like those from Latin America, neither almond shaped like the ones from the middle east or Africa. One could say there was nothing special about her eyes, but it was a colour that fascinated me, lots.

It was such a shock for me, who tended towards admiring thick meaty lips, to see such a nice thin small mouth make her oval face so beautiful. Though Venus would have never been jealous of any of such features.

She dressed simply: no jewelry, no watch, no fancy shoes, no earrings. Her blouse was white with small red flowers, and her black skirt on skinny hips made her look taller and leaner than she really was. I didn’t dare to get closer and say hi or anything, I only waved once when she turned, noticing I was observing her, and she replied with the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. I heard her say Thank You to the lady once the intro was over. Her voice was sweet as if she was still a ten-year-old.

Her image stuck in my mind as if someone had played a video-clip inside my brain on auto-play. I dreamed about her that night, and many others thereafter.

So, for the rest of the week all I could think of when I was at practice, was how to impress Sara, at the same time not letting Mario getting anywhere near her. I needed to find the way to make her see me play, but not Mario.

It would have been easy if she was in any of the classes I had chosen since the first semester, but having different interests at these early teenage years and just starting high school was difficult enough already.

When I saw her in one of the halls, it really was my intention to tell her that I’d love for her to be at the first game of the season, mostly because I didn’t know anybody on my new team and I felt that I needed some support from people other than my family. I was alone all the time anyway.

But I knew that I had less than seven minutes when I saw her at school, so I needed to be quick and to the point. Now that Mike reminded me that I didn’t do what I needed to do, it all comes back to me, in slow motion.

Sara! Hi! Oh, you’ve grown a lot during the summer. I was shaking inside, but nonetheless determined to talk to her.

Hi, hum, Lynx? Is it? Is that what they call you? She barely remembered me.

Yes, that’s right. I felt a rush of confidence. It’s because of my goalkeeping agility and, well. You know how guys are.

Yeah, I’ve heard about that… she blushed.

Anyways, it’s good to see you in my same school, I mean, here with the rest of… I was lost.

Yes. We both had no other option. Did we? She was giggling.

No, we do not. And… I was really lost, do you, would you…

Hey! So, you’re on Mario’s team? Monarques? Now she was really interested.

No, I was, but…

Oh! That’s not good. He’s having a game at Majors Field this Saturday, right? She spoke, smiling, which made me even more lost.

No, I mean, Central Field, how do you know? I was surprised she knew, but also concerned she knew.

Mario told me. He said the team is a very good one after losing a few weak links, or something like that. She told me that as though she was asking me who those weaklings were.

Oh! I see. Listen, I’m glad you know about the teams, I mean Monarques, I wanted to-

So, you’re friends with Mario? She was apparently interested in him, is he really as good of a player as they say he is?

Who says that? I was upset but didn’t want to let it show, I mean, he’s a good player, but it also depends on the--

OMG! Well, I’ve heard from other people that he’s, literally, the best player in school. She was talking to herself now.

He’s good, I cannot deny that. He was really good, I could not deny that.

Anyway, it’s nice to see you, Lynx. See you around!

Bye… for now. She didn’t hear the last two words.

Yes, I’d had a brief unproductive conversation with Sara, but it was not what I had planned to have for such a long time. Worst still, it seemed like she was interested in Mario. I couldn’t blame her; most girls were interested in Mario.

I was kind of baffled by that, I mean, he was not an Adonis, and his lanky body was neither muscular nor upright. However, he did have certain features that made girls whisper to each other covering their mouth, I just didn’t really get what that was.

The good news was that she now knew about me playing. She even knew about when the next games took place. That would certainly help for the next time I saw her.

Game time. Tigres vs Eagles.

Coach Alexander had taught me not to fear change. However, this was a big adjustment for me because I was the new player, which means everybody else knew each other’s strengths and play styles, except I.

Nobody told me what happened to the previous keeper, only pointing out that Williams was the backup goalkeeper. Other than that, nobody wanted to mention him, or perhaps they had been instructed by our old and strange coach not to say anything.

Coach Studer wanted to meet a full hour before our first game, to just to go over game plan, and remind us of what to expect from each