The crowd is on their feet and booing, waving at me to wake the fuck up.
I wrench my eyes back to the field in front of me, where all the players—from both teams—are just standing there, staring at me. I don’t know what expression is on my face, but it must be pretty scary, because no one’s coming over to talk to me, to find out why I didn’t attempt to block that goal.
I make myself move, though I feel like I’m walking through a wall of thick, gooey plasma, and return the ball to the ref.
“You all right, Brooks?” he asks, low enough so that no one else hears.
“Yeah,” I say. “Fine.”
All this time, I’ve been trying to make the best of this awful situation, trying desperately to be a good father (and failing miserably), trying to reconcile my life now with the part I played in taking Meg’s from her. And it turns out I was the one being played all along.
The ref returns the ball to the center of the field, and the Hornets kick off.
I try to get my head in the game, I really do. At least my feet aren’t nailed to the ground anymore, but the rest of the half doesn’t improve much. I manage to block one shot, but I let three others go by.
By the time halftime hits, the mood in the stands is somber, and my team won’t talk to me. The only one who says anything is Shoshanna. “You’re joking, right?” she bites out as I make my way to the sidelines, her hands on her hips, a dark scowl marring her beautiful face. I pretend I don’t hear her.
I sit on the bench for the entire fifteen minutes, alone, thinking, trying to regroup. I’m not confused anymore. Everything is more clear than it’s been in months.
The fact that Coach hasn’t pulled me out of the game yet means the recruiter is still here. The guy came all the way across the country to see me play, and Coach has to honor that, even though no one wants to watch me play right now.
I have to get my shit together. Show the recruiter what I can really do.
Don’t let her win. Go to UCLA and prove your life is not over.
When halftime ends, I calmly get up and take my place at the opposite goal.
For the entirety of the second half, I do not look at the stands once. I do not think the M-word. I do not think the H-word. I don’t even think about UCLA. The only thing I think about is BLOCKING THE FUCK OUT OF EVERY GOAL THE HORNETS ATTEMPT.
It’s like therapy.
And it’s even better than last week.
Gradually, the mood in the stands lifts. The cacophony of sounds coming from the crowd becomes higher pitched and more amped up. My moves become sharper. My name is chanted with rising enthusiasm each time I make a clutch save. My teammates start high-fiving me. My blood is pulsing with adrenaline and defiance.
Final score: 6–4 Pumas.
? ? ?
I head straight to Coach O’Toole and Walter Paddock like a man on a date with destiny.
Walter extends his hand. “I’m not sure what was going on in the first half, but boy am I glad I stuck around for the second. That was quite an impressive comeback, Ryden. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite like it.”
“Thank you, sir. I know it’s not an excuse, but I got some bad news right before I arrived tonight and it affected my game. But I’m glad I was able to pull it together and show you some of what I can do. And if you allow me to come play for you, I will bring one hundred and ten percent every single day.”
Walter’s glance cuts to Coach. Coach doesn’t look nearly as happy as he should after winning a game like that. What am I missing?
Walter looks back at me. “Ryden.” He says it in a way that sounds less like my name and a whole lot more like, You might want to take a seat, young man. I’m afraid I have some more bad news. “You’re an excellent player, and UCLA would be honored to have your kind of talent on our team.”
I hold my breath. “Thank you, sir.”
“But Coach O’Toole here has filled me in on your…personal situation.” He what? “I wish I had been informed before coming out here. In fact, I wish our department had been notified as soon as your situation changed.” He looks kind of annoyed. “If this were just about your skill, it would be a much different story. But unfortunately, we cannot offer you a spot on the UCLA team at this time.”