Dear Journal:
Here’s the rest of what happened at sissy’s soccer game…
The stadium was packed. It was a rivalry game and, from what dad told me, sissy’s team had eliminated the host team from the playoffs two straight years. Signs encouraged the home team and discouraged ours (Down with Denton, Put a Dent in Denton, etc.), and loud chants from the crowd basically did the same. The opposing team’s mascot, a skinny kid in a mangy-looking wolf costume, kept running around, firing everybody up. When he got to the visitor’s section, he gave us a thumbs-down (Wolves have thumbs, apparently. Who knew?) and everyone booed.
It’s been a long time since I’ve cared about sports, but I have to say, the energy was infectious. When the game started, the crowd was roaring, and my heart was pounding.
Sissy was back in the starting line-up. We didn’t have great seats (all the best were reserved for the home team), but sissy’s girth made her easy to spot. It’s funny, some days she doesn’t look that different, but on the field amongst other athletes, it’s obvious she’s chunked up. She looked a good 15-20 pounds heavier than any other player (except the opposing goalie, who was fairly stout). She’s still at a point where no one would call her fat in casual clothes, but on the soccer field, she was starting to stick out like a sore (and badly swollen) thumb.
Despite her physical changes, she began the game strong. She looked determined and quick. For the first 5 minutes, she was the best player on the field.
Unfortunately for sissy, the games last 80.
I kept thinking they’d take her out. Give her a breather. But they didn’t. Even when it was obvious she was hurting the team more than helping. Teammates would pass it to her, but she’d be out of position and, by the time she got to where she was supposed to be, the ball would be bouncing the other way.
As the minutes ticked down, sissy trailed further and further behind the action. She reminded me of that pudgy girl I saw on the playground a few weeks back, the one chasing her sister but unable to catch her. It was painful to watch. Mom and Dad remained silent, but the consternation on their faces told me that they thought so, too. If it had been a prize fight, I think one of them would’ve thrown in the towel.
With 5 minutes to go in the half, they finally subbed her out. Since she was the last starter to be subbed for and the first to need it, it was clear the coach was trying to teach her a lesson. (Either that or kill her.) Unlike last week, however, when he benched her, the strategy came back to bite him this time. They trailed 2-0 at halftime and ultimately lost 2-1.
Sissy didn’t see the field again until about seven minutes left. She gave the team a brief jolt, nearly tying the game with a wicked kick that hit the left post, but she fizzled even quicker than in the first half, and when the gun sounded, ending the game, she collapsed to her knees in exhaustion. Tellingly, no one from her team checked on her. It was a player from the opposing team who finally helped her to her feet in an act of victorious benevolence.
While sissy’s squad engaged in another excruciatingly long postgame meeting, we trudged back to the van amongst the jubilant crowd. A few kids shouted, “Denton sucks!” but what I focused on most was the conversation coming from the family funneling to the exit ahead of us.
The victorious team’s coach released the players immediately to celebrate with friends and family, and one of them walked arm in arm with their mother. After some nebulous “good game” and “great win” comments, the mom brought up the quality of the opposition.
That’s when my ears perked up.
“That #10 would be good if she weren’t so chunky.”
The player’s braided blonde head snapped towards her mother with a big smile. “That’s Michelle Linder!”
The mother’s head snapped back, an incredulous look on her thirty-something face. “You’re kidding?”
As the daughter shook her head, her smile transferred to the mother. The resemblance was uncanny.
“Wow,” the older woman said, “She really bulked up during the offseason.”
I knew my sister was a good player, but I had no idea her reputation preceded her. Now that her belly did, too, I wondered for how much longer…
--Jessie