His eyebrows went up in surprise and he didn’t answer.
“I mean, unless you think we’re at an unfair advantage because of our height,” I added.
He chuckled, clearly amused and further surprised. “Please don’t take offense, miss, but ‘tis not your height that worries me. I fear ye are the one at a disadvantage because yer…”
He waved his hands up and down at me.
Huh? I’m what?
“A lass!” he sputtered.
What the crap? Okay, this gender thing was getting old. Cass planted both hands on her hips and gave me the stink eye as if to say, “Are you going to let him get away with that?”
I kept my face calm, while petting the hackles on my inner-feminist. She’d actually been a good sport about everything up until that moment. Now all I wanted was a chance to make him eat those words. Cassidy and I shared a conspiratorial smile.
“Where we come from girls play, too,” I told him. “Many of the girls are as good as the men.”
“Or better,” Cass added.
Keefe was plainly trying to hold back a condescending smile. A small crowd of sweaty players gathered around us.
“Just for fun, give us a chance. Please,” I begged. “We promise not to be upset by the outcome. We can be on different teams to make it fair. You just have to make us one promise.”
“Oh, yeah?” Keefe asked, setting his hands on his hips. “And wha’s that?”
“Not to go easy on us because we’re girls.” I grinned and the whole group of little guys cracked up laughing. Keefe grabbed his waist, apparently getting a stitch in his side.
“Alright, then, misses. If ye insist.”
Cassidy and I gave each other a high five, and took our shoes off since everyone else was playing barefoot. I was sure Keefe was only letting us play because he didn’t want to offend Brogan’s guests and McKale’s betrothed, but the reason didn’t matter to me. I simply wanted to stretch my muscles and play something I knew I could win.
We took our places, opposing teams facing each other. One of the guys on the sideline whistled and we were off. The players ran slower than me because of their shorter legs, but they were a very rough and physical group, grabbing and pushing. There was no ref throwing penalty flags out here, that’s for sure.
It didn’t take long to figure out that my team wasn’t going to pass the ball my direction, even though I was open. Nobody bothered covering me. Cassidy stood on the other end of the playing field and lifted her arms in frustration, also not being allowed to play. We were going to have to take this game into our own hands.
Cassidy’s team had a strong offensive scorer named Mick who could get through our defenders too easily. No problem. I could do offense or defense. I hung back near the goal since we had no goalies, and the next time Mick broke through our defense, I was there.
I watched his feet dribble for a second to figure out his pattern, and then I ghosted in and stole it away.
“Hey, now!” I heard him shout, and people watching from the sidelines laughed. I turned back to Mick.
“You want it back?” I taunted with a grin. “Come get it.”
He came at me and I feinted to the left, dribbling around him on the right. I took off amid cheers, making my way through the other team with too much ease. They wouldn’t get physical with me like they would with one another. Instead of shooting I passed it to my teammate who ran parallel to me on the other side of the field. It was a perfect set-up, and he kicked a clean shot into the goal.
It might be cliché to say, “the crowd went wild,” but they did. Especially the women. They acted like they’d never been so entertained. I jogged to the middle of the field where the players were converging.
“You guys let me through too easily,” I scolded the other team. “Just treat me like you treat each other. You’re not gonna hurt me. I’m a big girl.”
Some smiled and chuckled, but a few still looked uneasy. Cassidy gave me an overdramatized wink that made me snort.
Her team started this time, and low and behold, somebody actually passed it to her. She and I went head-to-head all the time at home, and I could almost always take her, but she was fiercer when she had an audience. The fact that there were no rules and we were both competitive did not bode well. We became locked in a battle for the ball, which included scratching, elbowing, and cussing on Cassidy’s part. There would be cuts on our shins from each other’s toenails, and major bruising. At one point I had the ball and when I turned to dribble away she tripped me, and then we were at it again. The crowd was clapping in sync and chanting, “Ma-son Girls! Ma-son Girls!”
Distracted momentarily by the chant, Cassidy’s attention wavered and I tugged the ball from between her feet with my heel. I passed it to one of my teammates who shot a beautiful long-distance goal. After throwing my arms up and cheering, I collapsed in a heap on the ground with Cass next to me, both of us laughing.