Benchwarmers Page 6

  The next shot was Andi talking about believing she had proven she had made the team during tryouts and that a number of the boys had clearly wanted her on the team.

  As soon as she finished, Danny Diskin came on camera: “She was probably one of our three or four best players,” he said. “If we had her playing up front, we’d be much tougher to stop. Today, we absolutely could have used her speed and touch with the ball.”

  The next shot was Principal Block. Mr. Michaels talked over him for a moment, identifying him and then letting him talk.

  “It’s a very uncomfortable situation,” Block said. “I’m told Miss Carillo was clearly good enough to make the team, but I gave my word to Coach Johnston he’d have final say on who made the team. He believes, for morale reasons, having a girl on the team is the wrong thing to do.”

  The camera switched to Mr. Michaels sitting across from Mr. Block.

  “You don’t see that as a somewhat outdated approach?” Mr. Michaels said.

  Mr. Block smiled sadly and shook his head. “I’d be hard-pressed to argue with you on that,” he answered.

  The next shot was of Mr. Michaels looking into the camera. “I tried to talk to Coach Johnston after today’s game, but he was adamant in refusing to come on camera, saying he had nothing to say on the subject of”—he looked down at a notebook—“‘girls trying to play on boys’ teams.’

  “He’s right of course. Girls shouldn’t play on boys’ teams—unless they’ve earned a spot. Which is apparently the case with Andi Carillo here at Merion Middle School. Dei, back to you.”

  “Wow!” Andi’s dad said. “That will stir things up. There’s no way they can ignore that.”

  “And there’s more to come,” Andi’s mom said.

  Andi was texting Jeff. Pls tell your dad THANKS, she wrote.

  His answer came right back. Glad you liked it. We’ll see what happens.

  He was right. The question now was what would come next.

  13

  As luck—truly bad luck—would have it, the first two people Jeff ran into when he walked into school the next day were his teammates Ron Arlow and Ron’s best friend, Mark Adkins.

  “Nice try, Michaels,” Arlow sneered. “Your old man’s lame story isn’t going to change a thing.”

  Jeff had watched the Steve Bucci piece on Channel Three before leaving for school, and it had hit many of the same themes as his dad’s story. He had also read a column on the front page of that morning’s Philadelphia Inquirer’s sports section by a columnist named Bob Ford. He’d then made the mistake of diving into the comments section of the columns online. Most sided with Andi, but a few were sickeningly sexist.

  Since Jeff wasn’t Ford’s son, he’d seen no reason not to quote him.

  “She’s a much better player than I am,” Jeff had told Ford. “She’s a better player than most of us. To me, a coach’s job is to have the best team possible. Leaving Andi off the team just because she’s a girl makes us a weaker team.”

  He had a feeling Coach J wouldn’t be too happy with that quote and he’d be in trouble—again—at practice that afternoon. He’d thought about that before talking to Ford. What the heck, he’d decided, is he going to cut my playing time?

  Of course, Jeff might get thrown off the team. That was okay at this point. He’d proven something to himself by making the team, but he wasn’t having a lot of fun, so if the coach wanted to be like that, fine.

  All those thoughts flashed through his mind as Arlow stood in front of him, his face twisted into that ugly smirk.

  “We’ll see, won’t we, Arlow?” Jeff said. “If I thought you could read, I’d tell you to check the Inquirer this morning. You might not be so confident then. My dad’s not the only one on this story.”

  For a split second Jeff thought Arlow was going to hit him.

  Arlow actually had his right hand balled into a fist. But, finally, he just shook his head and said, “You’re not worth it,” and turned and walked away.

  Jeff breathed a sigh of relief.

  When he climbed the steps to the second floor, which was where the sixth-grade classrooms were all located, he found Andi waiting for him at the top of the stairway. The five-minute bell was ringing when he saw her standing there with a huge grin on her face.

  “I thought maybe you weren’t showing up today,” she said.

  “I got … delayed,” he said, deciding against repeating his conversation with Arlow.

  “Well, guess what?” she said. “Mr. Block called the house this morning and asked if my parents can come in to meet with him and Coach J at lunchtime.”

  Jeff’s eyes went wide. “You too?” he said.

  She nodded. “Yup, me too. I don’t want to get carried away, but I think the plan may have worked. My mom says I have to stay off social media while this is going on, but she says that most people are just crushing Coach Johnston and the school.”

  “I’ll bet that got Block’s attention,” Jeff said.

  The late bell was ringing.

  “I’ll let you know,” she said as they both started sprinting down the hall.

  Thank goodness, Jeff thought, neither of us takes geology.

  * * *

  “I think everyone knows why we’re here,” Mr. Block said.

  He had offered Andi’s parents something to drink when they arrived, but they’d said, “No, thanks.” Coach Johnston walked in a moment later along with Coach Crist.

  Coach Crist introduced himself to Andi’s parents before sitting down. Coach Johnston barely nodded at the three Carillos and Mr. Block as he sat down in the remaining empty chair.

  “We’re here,” Coach Johnston said, “because it appears people can be intimidated by fake news.”

  Before Mr. Block could respond, Andi’s dad jumped in.

  “Oh, please, that tired claim doesn’t work when the president uses it, and it certainly doesn’t apply here. The stories said you cut Andi because she’s a girl. What’s fake about that basic fact?”

  Coach J glared at Andi’s dad, who glared right back.

  Mr. Block intervened. “Hang on, gentlemen, let’s keep this civil,” he said. “There’s no point in arguing tactics or fake news or anything else. Let’s stick to what happens next. That’s all that matters.”

  “Okay then,” Andi’s mom said. “What happens next, Mr. Block?”

  Mr. Block sighed and looked at his head coach.

  “The truth is I don’t like feeling pressured into making decisions by the media or by social media for that matter,” Mr. Block said. “But my gut has told me that the mistake here was mine, in telling Coach Johnston he could have final say on who made the team—regardless.”

  “That is what you committed to,” Coach Johnston said. “And—”

  Mr. Block held up a hand to stop him. “And if you had made an unbiased and fair decision to keep Miss Carillo off the team, I’d have been fine with it,” he said. “You didn’t, though. You had no intention of putting her on the team, regardless of how she played. To me, now that the media has forced me to rethink, the deal we made wasn’t adhered to in good faith.”

  “So you’re going to overrule me and add Miss Carillo to the team,” Coach J said.

  “That’s right. We will find her a uniform, and I’ll pay for one out of my own pocket if need be. This may not be the right way to get to it, but I believe this is the right decision.”

  “You’re just bowing to public pressure then,” the coach added.

  “Absolutely,” Mr. Block said with a smile. “Because the public is right.”

  “Do you expect me to cut one of the boys to meet the fifteen-player limit?” Coach Johnston asked. “Jeff Michaels, for instance? Do you think that’s fair?”

  Mr. Block held up a hand. “I already spoke to the overseer for middle school athletics for the district. Not surprisingly, they are aware of the situation. They are going to authorize all nine teams in our conference to add a sixteenth player—if the coaches so desire.
By the way, apparently, other schools already have girls on their teams.”

  Coach J didn’t have an answer for that. He stood up. “Well then, you should probably start thinking about finding another coach.”

  “I already have,” Mr. Block answered. “That’s why I asked Coach Crist to come to this meeting.” He looked at his other teacher. “Jason, would you be willing to take over?”

  Mr. Crist shot a glance at Mr. Johnston and sighed. Then he gave a rueful smile and said, “If necessary. And I’d love to have Andi on the team. It will make us better.”

  His fellow coach stood up and glared at him. Then he shook his head and walked to the door.

  There was silence in the room, broken finally by Mr. Block.

  “Hal, if you’re at practice this afternoon, I’ll assume that means you’re going to continue as coach. If not, Jason, you’re in charge—and your first job is to find Andi a uniform by Friday. Bill me if need be.”

  “Not a problem,” Mr. Crist said.

  Coach J, his face crimson, turned and walked out of the room.

  “He won’t quit,” Coach C said after he was gone. “He loves coaching. And, deep down, he knows we’ll be better with Andi on the team.” He stood up and shook Andi’s hand. “Welcome aboard, Andi. Can’t wait to see you at practice today.”

  Andi stood up and accepted the handshake. “I can’t wait, either,” she said.

  She meant it. But she was hoping that Coach C was wrong and that Coach J would be nowhere to be found at three thirty that afternoon.

  14

  Jeff got the text from Andi as he was heading from his classroom to the locker room to get ready for practice.

  I’m on the team! Coach J may quit! Here’s hoping!

  The hope didn’t last long. Jogging onto the practice field, Jeff saw both coaches standing in their usual spot at midfield. For a split second he thought perhaps Coach J was going to tell the team he was quitting.

  Andi was already there as the rest of the team assembled. Several of the other players tapped her on the back—clearly happy to see her. Others—notably Arlow and Adkins—refused to look at her.

  “Gentlemen,” Coach Johnston said—as if making a point. “As you can see, Miss Carillo has joined us today. Although I tried to make it clear to her that her not making the team wasn’t personal in any way, she and her parents decided to take their story to the media. They succeeded in convincing Mr. Block that he should have final say on who is on this team. As you all saw during tryouts, Miss Carillo is a competent player and will be treated as such by me and by Coach C. I expect all of you to do the same.”

  “Okay, let’s stretch,” Coach C ordered.

  Jeff was actually surprised that Coach J had been as gracious as he had been. Jeff had hoped Coach would quit, but this was probably as good as they could hope for under the circumstances.

  When they finished stretching, Coach Johnston broke them into two teams of eight—taking three of his starting players, one of them winger Danny Diskin, and putting them with what was clearly the second team—which Jeff and Andi were both assigned to.

  Shortly after the scrimmage began, Andi made a steal at midfield and quickly shot a pass to Diskin on the left side. She ran into an open space, and Diskin slipped a neat pass to her, with only one player—Mike Craig—between her and the goal. They were playing without goalies—Bobby Woodward and his backup, Allan Isidro, were doing diving drills with Coach C—because the point of the scrimmage was to work on their passing and shooting skills.

  Andi faked as if to go to her right, then cut left and slipped past Craig—who ended up sprawled on the ground trying to recover from the fake. Since she was a lefty, she transferred the ball smoothly to her left side and kicked it high into the corner of the goal. Even with a goalie that shot would have been unstoppable.

  Just as the ball hit the net, Arlow, peeling back too late, slammed into her from behind and took her down. Coach J’s whistle blew, but Jeff barely heard it. He was racing at Arlow, as was Diskin.

  Diskin got there first, with Jeff and Stevie Gillum close behind. Diskin slammed into Arlow and sent him flying. Arlow was up in an instant, red-faced, charging at Diskin.

  He never got there. Coach C had seen the fracas and raced in to grab Arlow, pinning his arms and lifting him off the ground to stop him before he could get to Diskin. Coach J ran in behind him, blowing his whistle repeatedly.

  “Everybody stop!” he yelled.

  Gillum was helping Andi up.

  “You okay?” Coach J asked her.

  “Fine,” Andi said. “Fine.” She was breathing hard, clearly a little shaken up, but there was no sign of blood or anything else wrong that Jeff could see.

  “Who hit me?” she asked.

  “Who do you think?” Jeff answered.

  Coach J’s face was dark with fury. “Let me remind you all of what I told you before we started today,” he said. “We are a team. We do not knock our teammates down. In fact, Arlow and Diskin, those hits would probably get you ejected in a real game. Coach C, take these two and run them up and down the bleachers five times. Then send them to the showers.”

  “Coach, I think Diskin was standing up for his teammate,” Coach C said. “I don’t think this merits equal punishment.”

  Coach J put his hands on his hips for a moment as if deciding how to respond. “Well, Jason, when you’re in charge, you can make those calls,” he finally said. “Until then, please follow my instructions.”

  Coach Crist smiled—but it seemed like an angry smile. “You got it, Coach. Come on, boys.”

  Arlow turned to glare for a moment at Andi, who glared right back. Diskin walked over to her and pointedly gave her a high five, saying, “Sure you’re okay?”

  She nodded.

  “Great play,” he said loudly. “I hope everyone else noticed.”

  He jogged after Coach C, who had his arm around Arlow and was talking to him.

  “Okay, seven-on-seven the rest of the day,” Coach Johnston said. “Goalies, between the posts.” Then he paused for a moment before adding, “Nice play, Carillo.”

  * * *

  Ron Arlow was long gone by the time the rest of the team reached the locker room. Jeff was relieved. Diskin was still there, and Jeff asked him what had happened when they’d hit the showers after running the steps.

  “Nothing, really,” Diskin said. “Maybe he was just tired. I certainly was. He didn’t say a word to me until he was almost dressed. Then he just said, ‘You really think it’s okay to have her on a boys’ team?’ I said, ‘Only if she can play—and Andi can play.’ He stared at me for a second, shook his head, and walked out.”

  Zack Roth, another of Arlow’s cadre of friends, decided to stick up for his buddy.

  “Ron just wants to win,” he said. “Just like Coach wants to win. I heard the assistant varsity coaching job is going to be open next year and this season is Coach J’s audition. He honestly thinks having a girl on the team will hurt morale, hurt our season. You saw what happened out there today.”

  “Yeah, we all did,” Jeff said.

  “Hey, she wants to play with the boys, she’s gonna get knocked around,” Roth said.

  “Don’t be such a tool,” Mike Craig said. “That was a dirty play.”

  “This coming from the guy who got faked out of his shorts by the girl,” said Terry Trang, another of Arlow’s friends.

  “Don’t you see? That’s the point,” Jeff said. “She’s good. She can help us—if you guys will just let her play.”

  “Well, Michaels, I agree with you on one count,” Roth said. “She can certainly help us more than you can.”

  “Yeah,” Trang chimed in. “Maybe you can get your daddy to go on TV and say it’s not fair you aren’t playing.”

  Jeff took a step in Trang’s direction, but Diskin cut him off.

  “Easy, Michaels,” he said. “One fight a day is enough for one team. Let’s all just cool it and get out of here.”

  “Y
eah,” Craig added. “What is it those guys say in The Three Musketeers?”

  The book had been on the summer reading list for incoming sixth graders.

  “‘All for one, one for all,’” Diskin said.

  “That’s it,” Craig said. “Let’s try that. At least let’s try to try that.”

  Jeff was all for that idea. But he wasn’t very confident it would happen in this locker room anytime soon.

  15

  Andi was happy when practiced ended. And confused.

  On the one hand the afternoon had gone almost exactly as she had expected—and feared. Coach Johnston had made it clear to the team that she was there only because Mr. Block had forced him to put her in uniform.

  And Ron Arlow had—predictably—gone out of his way to cause trouble.

  But there had also been noticeable support from a number of her teammates—not just Danny and Jeff, but from several other players as they walked from the field in the direction of the locker rooms.

  Even Zack Roth, who she knew was pals with Arlow, had patted her on the shoulder while jogging by and said, “Good job out there.”

  And then there was Coach J’s “Nice play, Carillo” after Arlow had knocked her down.

  She reported all of this when her mom arrived to pick her up.

  “I think most of the boys are going to figure out eventually that you can help them win,” her mom said on the drive home. “Everyone wants to win, right?”

  “I’m not so sure if Coach J or Arlow are willing to win with me on the team,” Andi said.

  Her mother smiled. “You said even the coach complimented you,” she said. “I would say that’s progress.”

  Andi couldn’t argue with that. Any civil comment from him, much less a compliment, was progress.

  She finished her homework quickly after dinner and decided to call Jeff to see if he could fill her in on what had happened in the boys’ locker room after practice. Normally she had communicated with him away from school through brief texts, but now she just felt like talking.