That Is Sport

Chapter 1: The Misadventures of Lincoln

- It would be a good start to know how it all began, - said Lisa, at the same time writing something in her diary.

- Yes, - said Leni, - Please tell us in order.

- Where did they offend you, lil bro? - Luna asked.

- At soccer, - Lincoln said.

- That's okay, bro. We're so gonna get them scums for you!

- Actually, the first time I went to that section, or rather, when Lynn took me there...

- Hey! Don't hold me responsible, you could have left at any time!

- Oh, really? Then who said she would spend her whole life calling him a wimp and a loser if he did that? - Lori said, looking at Lynn disapprovingly.

- Okay-okay, I'm shutting up, - she said, blushing with embarrassment.

- When I got there, - Lincoln went on, - it was all right at first. Maybe I could even make some friends, because there were guys like me, not-the-athletic ones. But as time went on they just started pushing me out, and the coach didn't even tell them anything, he encouraged it.

- What's your coach's name? - Luna asked.

- Mr. Burton, - Lynn said.

- Oh, that jerk? He was our medium school gym teacher, so creepy. He always had a problem with things. He used to put the weak ones down, but he wouldn't touch his favorites. As soon as one of them got on someone weaker, he didn't even notice it. But he himself picked on the others pretty much always, yeah. He got busted once for smoking with the seniors. There was a lot of noise back then, - Luna said with a thoughtful look. - Guess they fired the guy after that thing. Never mind.

- Go on, - said Lori.

- Whenever I go out on the field, let me do just one thing wrong, and they would already yell at me. But the guys either laugh at me for not being able to play, or call me names. And when we play, they don't pay any attention to me at all. It's like they play by themselves. No matter how many times I try to get the ball, I end up just running around the field for hours.

Several episodes related to this bitter experience loomed in Lincoln's mind. First of all, he remembered an arrogant, white-haired kid of his age, maybe a little younger, who didn't like Lincoln the first day he had been in that section. Not even one training session went by before he would give Lincoln some annoying pranks. Like tripping him. Or hit him in the tendon. Sometimes he was brave enough to punch Lincoln in the stomach, on which he often complained to the coach, who invariably replied, "Just punch him in the face," which Lincoln could not afford, knowing that it would cause even more trouble. And he couldn't fight, either, to tell the truth. So he tolerated all the offenses, though he didn't know how to forget them at home.

Another peculiarity of Lincoln's situation was that every time he came onto the field and get down to the game, he was bound to hit someone or accidentally hit someone's foot. But he didn't do it on purpose, no, it was completely accidental every time, it just looked like he was doing it on purpose. That's because he simply couldn't play soccer at all. He was repeatedly called names for it and was sometimes even beaten. But when he went to the coach and got the same answer, Lincoln decided that any attempt to stand up for himself would inevitably fail, and therefore there was no point in trying any further.

But Lori decided to ask Lynn a straight question.

- So, Lynn, why didn't you help your brother all this time?

- No way! I always gave him passes. If anyone touched him, I helped him out, - Lynn said, as if making an excuse, even though it was all a lie. Both she and Lincoln knew it, but the boy was tactfully silent. At training Lynn mostly just ignored Lincoln, and when someone hurt him, she found out about it rather late and so there was nothing she could do about it. Or she just didn't want to do anything about it.