The ball twirled in the air, spinning rhythmically towards the center area in front of the goal. A duelling pair of bodies jumped in the air, ascending to the heavens as they took flight towards salvation. One aimed to send the ball downwards, down the throat of the opposition and send the opponent into the fires of hell. The other sought to knock the ball away, defending the gates of the castle to keep the dragon from its prey.
Spiralling downwards, the ball sliced through the wind, homing on its own peerless target. It sought where it wanted to go. The duellists only interrupted its own pathway. A loud grunt drowned out the noise inside the scrum. Time stood still as the ball touched a forehead, waiting to calculate its new angle and trajectory.
It spun away, a swirl of black and white hexagons. Upper corner, primed and ready, the dragon released its fire. She landed majestically, feet touching the swampy muck as if an angel descended from the heavens. Eyes never left the ball, even when long hair thrust itself forward for a front row seat.
Stretching with every centimeter of length in her shoulders, the goalkeeper tried to lay out a shield to protect the castle from the attack. Too far, too accurate, the ball soared into the net, falling to Earth.
Tiffany screamed in pleasure, pumping her fist in the air as she ran to the sidelines in celebration. Executed to perfection, the corner kick blew the opening game of the season wide open. The captain led by example in a rare display where captain's duelled in the air. Both team captains played defence, making a corner kick the only time the pair would battle directly.
Within the first ten minutes of the game, it sent a metaphorical dagger through the heart of the opposition. First blood went to the Dragons, scorching the opposition. Despite becoming rivals, Nik still clapped and shouted support from the sidelines. Coach Rodriguez cracked the slyest of grins, not allowing the perfect display to create internal complacency.
Ten minutes later, Tiffany took an underhand pass from the goalkeeper, shouting directions at her team. However, they were decoys for her hidden plan. She wanted to enact her summer training. Despite acting as if she would lay off a pass to the left side, and dribbled in that direction, the moment her marker took the bait she juked to the right with a crossover.
With blazing speed she scorched the Earth she previously soared off of, speeding down the right side as she sliced through the middle. Her adept control allowed her to direct the ball around fresh markers, aiming nearer to the net. Each stride brought her closer and closer to the sweet spot, the area of the field she had practiced thousands of kicks from.
Perky ears faked deafness as teammates called for the ball. It took seconds for her to sprint from the middle to outside the box. Lining up from the right side, she deftly touched the ball to her left foot and powered home a shot. It left the goalkeeper stunned, unable to react. Her brain did not process the assault fast enough, cooked under the dragon's all consuming fire.
The referee whistled to signal the goal. Tiffany jumped up, fist pumping the air in celebration. She got her brace, the first of her senior year and first as captain. One goal with her head, one with her left foot, leaving a goal with her right foot for the rare 'perfect' hat-trick.
More shouting and cheering rang out in celebration from the sidelines, as even the boys team showed their encouragement. Coach Rodriguez had been instilling a strong team bond with their training. Still, she did not allow her sly smile to extend any further than with the header goal ten minutes earlier.
Halftime came quickly. All the girls huddled around the bench as Zoya gave them a short pep talk. They were up four to nothing. Nothing needed to be said except not to take their foot off the gas. No time for complacency. Keep piling on the pressure. Tiffany listened in, nodding her head from time to time, but in all honesty her mind drifted towards personal glory. She wanted the right foot goal. She wanted that perfect hat trick.
The referee's whistle broke her daydream, switching it back into business mode. Jogging back onto the field she took her place in front of the goalkeeper. The whistle blew again and the opposing team got the game restarted. Immediately they played more defensively, passing the ball back and forth along their own half.
For five minutes this went on. Slowed down to a crawl, what was an exciting first half turned to a boring second half quickly.
"Nancy! Press them!" Tiffany shouted from down field. "Don't just stand around. Press them!"
She shouted orders at one of the strikers. Playing a standard four-four-two, Coach Rodriguez wanted them to play pressing defence. With unlimited substitutes in high school soccer, stamina was not as big a concern compared to the pros. Reality, however, was another story. Nancy huffed and puffed along, terribly out of shape, but being a public school program they couldn't just turn students away without cause.
Zoya told the players if they showed up to all the practices, and practiced to the best of their abilities, they would get minutes. How many wasn't guaranteed, just the ability to play. Despite her sounding horrendous, like a car engine about to blow, Nancy came to all the practices and tried her best.
One of the wingers moved forward to help chase down one of the passers, opening up a hole. Tiffany scouted it, noticing an opponent slip into the empty space to wait for a pass.
"Push up, Katrina, push up," she ordered, pointing at the open opponent.
Katrina pushed up in time to intercept the pass but she flubbed on kicking it out, the ball bouncing under her boot. The attacker did not wait around to give Katrina another chance, picking up the ball to make her run. After a few steps, what she did not notice, or anticipate, was Tiffany aggressively running out of position. A boot heel knocked the ball away, sliding out of nowhere.
Eyes locked in on the ball, the opponent fell over Tiffany's sliding body with a thud and splash on the hard, muddy soccer field, toppling over itself. Pinpoint perfect, Tiffany timed it for maximum effect. She could have kicked it out while standing, stole the ball, or another trick, but instead she wanted to build a fiery reputation. The foot got all ball. One hundred percent legal. The opponent rolled over in genuine pain from the tackle.
Hopping up to her feet, Tiffany stayed with the play, making sure the ball got to safety before jogging back to her standard position. She did not notice, nor care, that her leg and ass were caked in fresh mud. A few shouts from parents came from the crowd about a foul but the referee never made a motion for the cards or whistle. One hundred percent legal.
"Not my fault your eyes were glued on the ball and not who was coming after it," Tiffany thought to herself.
A minute later the opposing goalkeeper made a good save, knocking a long shot over the bar for a corner kick. Ordering Katrina and another defender back, Tiffany jogged forward and locked eyes with the corner kicker as she took a spot outside the box for a short kick. Tiffany wanted that hat-trick. The ball found its way to her boot, even with a defender marking closely. Too close and too slow. Tiffany slightly backheeled the ball through the defender's open legs. Spinning quickly, fluidly, she pivoted around the stone feet, retrieving the ball at the edge of the box before anyone could get it.
Right leg arched back, hip twisted with harsh momentum, the outstretched right foot whipped forward. Tiffany made it clear her skills were on another level compared to this team and school league. The ball hit the back of the net from the side angle without resistance from the goalkeeper.
Jumping up in the air, she let out a primal scream to signify her glorious hat-trick. Three goals, head, left and right. Perfection. Teammates mobbed her with congratulations, hugging her as they walked off to center field. Euphoric, she could not help but smile widely. All her training, all her sacrifice paying off.
The opposition parked the bus the rest of the game by playing keep away. The few times they tried attacking they were shut down immediately. Being a defender, Tiffany couldn't just become a striker without reason nor was allowed to switch positions at will, so she guarded the gates until the final whistle blew.
The girls were happy, jubilant, high-fiving each other and the boys as they jogged off the field. Coach Rodriguez smiled, happy at the display. Just as quickly she turned her attention to the boys, telling them to get out there and warm-up for the game. Nik nodded, taking off his team jacket and rousing the boys onto the field. He high-fived Tiffany as they walked past each other, as if being on the field erased their bubbling rivalry even for a brief moment.
Zoya put an arm on Tiffany's shoulder before speaking.
"Great job out there. That sliding tackle put the fear into them in the second half. Next game we play I want you to do the same thing first opportunity you get. It'll show us who the cowards are and who won't be bullied around."
Tiffany nodded before speaking.
"Sure coach, I'll do that."
After Zoya turned her attention back to the field, Tiffany walked off to grab her water bottle and team jacket. She'd be lining up next to Coach Rodriguez as an assistant for the boys game. No way Nik could overshadow her accomplishments today.
X
The whistle blew to start the boy's match. Nik made sure it'd begin with a bang. Receiving the pass from the striker off the kick-off, he paused for a moment to take in his surroundings. Both wingers sprinted down the flanks as instructed by the coach for their opening gambit. She wanted to catch the other team off-guard with the bold move, leaving it at Nik's capable foot.
Time felt slow. A second felt like a minute. Eyes scanned both flanks, pinpointing the weakness in the armor. Cocking his leg and foot back, the appendage swung forward with might and precision. The moment of impact bludgeoned time back to reality, allowing Nik to see the ball spin through the air with great quickness. With the proper spin, the ball's trajectory mapped itself to the awaiting feet of the left winger, who ran directly onto the ball.
The player did not stop, controlling the soccer ball as best he could. Nik could only watch as he jogged through the middle towards the goal. The goalkeeper rushed out to cut down the angle and make himself look big on the breakaway. The defence were caught flat footed by the audacious lob from midfield.
Cheers erupted from the front of the field as the ball soared into the back of the net, and the winger rushed to centerfield, pointing at Nik with a happy, excited face. Their team took the lead, one to nothing in the first twenty seconds, giving them all the momentum to put the pedal to the medal.
As Nik high-fived the winger, and accepted the sporty hair rubs from teammates, he jogged back thinking how good the kick felt. It felt better than any kick he made last season. Deep down he knew why but did not give it a second thought. Winning was all that mattered.
Twenty minutes later, Nik jumped into the air near the center line. His broad, manly shoulders jousted with his marker, as they tried to out-muscle the other off the ball. It bounced slightly off Nik's chest at the peak of his height. As the pair landed, Nik nudged it forward with his head, sprinting forward after it.
