Carson Messi

Chapter Sixteen

I grab another ball and juggle a few times with my feet before kicking it into the goal. I've been playing soccer for so long, it's became natural for me. I don't have to think about where to connect my foot or where the goal is. It just happens.

Next I decide to try a few easy shots on him. I kick it directly to the center of the goal, but he dives to the left, letting my ball go past. Next I make a slow kick and he catches the ball and throws it out.

Finally I juggle the ball while walking forward, then I use my head to header the ball into the net.

"You ready to listen to me yet?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

Jake scowls but nods. "How old are you anyway? 14?" He guesses. Let me get one thing straight. I do not look 14.

"I'm 17. I'm guessing your 20. Now let me show you what I can do as a goalkeeper." I say. I slip on my goalie gloves and take my place in the goal. I watch as Jake takes one of the balls and kicks it around a little.

He then kicks the ball and it soars for the bottom right corner. I dive and nudge it out of the way barely. Next Jake kicks the ball for the top right corner. I easily catch that one and toss it back to him. I can tell he's getting frustrated because his next kick is fast. My hands sting as the ball connects with my hands. I catch it though, and toss it back to him.

Jake continues kicking the ball at the net until he runs out of balls to kick.

"See?" I say. "You ready for some tips?" I ask him.

"I guess." He frowns.

For the next hour I talk to him, spreading the knowledge I had accumulated throughout my 17 years of living. I even share a few tips that came from the best goalkeeper himself, Manuel Neuer.

By the end of an hour and a half, he was able to catch a lot more of my shots. I smiled at he caught a tricky shot.

"Yay!" I grin. "Good job!" I say. I give him a high five as Dad blows his whistle to get our attention.

We join the rest of the group. "Now we're playing a scrimmage. Split up evenly." Dad commands. I stand next to him as his team splits into two groups.

Once they're split up Dad looks at me. "You have to join one of the teams to make the numbers even." He says.

I turn and notice the team missing a player. I jog up to them. "What position do you want me to play?" I ask them.

The leader looking guy sneers. "Benchwarmer."

I turn behind me and look at my dad. "Want me to ask again?" I ask.

The guy sighs like I'm his biggest trouble. "We need a left forward." He finally says.

I nod and get into position. The game starts and it's obvious the guys are avoiding me. If that's how my 'team' wants to play, that's how we'll play.

As the other team's midfielder gets the ball, I steal it easily. Instead of passing the ball to our 'leader', I tear down the field. I sprint past the other teams midfield. As I reach the swarm of defense, I have to do some footwork to get past a few. This seems like déjà vue.

Finally I watch Jake amused. Then I get shoved, so I slide on the ground managing to kick the ball into the goal. The guy that shoved me lands on me and knocks the air out of my lungs.

I push the guy off me and stand up.

The guys around stare at me, completely shocked. I just scored an excellent goal against a college team ranked 5th, by myself.