Double Fake Read Free Page A

said.
    “Okay, let’s try it some more. Everybody listen: When a player has the ball in a three-on-three game, he should always have two options for passing. Two teammates, two options. Think of a triangle shape.”
    Coach patiently corrected mistakes every few minutes after that, explaining how a player could have moved into position for a pass, or how a defender could avoid getting faked out. But mostly he let them play, and gradually they began to catch on.
    “We’ll be pretty good,” Coach said after they’d run some laps at the end. “We’ve got talent; we just have to use our brains.”
    Calvin and Zero stopped at Little Italy for a slice of pizza on the way home. On the wall beside the counter were several team pictures from previous Little Italy teams, and a plaque from a few years before when the team had won the YMCA title.
    “We’ll be up there soon,” Calvin said, pointing to the pictures as they were served their slices.
    “Are you on our team?” said the man behind the counter.
    “Yeah,” Zero said. “Just finished practice a few minutes ago.”
    “Ernie Salinardi,” the man said, sticking out his hand for them to shake. “I own this place.”
    Calvin and Zero shook his hand and gave their names.
    “It’s our first soccer season,” Calvin said.
    “Great. The team’s looking good, I hope?”
    “ Real good,” Calvin said. Then he leaned his head to one side and thought for a second. “We will be, anyway. Still got a lot to learn.”
    “Learn quick,” Ernie said, winking. “Wins are good for business.”
    “We’ll try,” Zero said, nodding solemnly.
    “I’m just kidding.” Ernie wiped the counter with a cloth. “Have fun and learn the game. There’s no better game on earth.”
    “It’s a deal,” Calvin said.
    “I only ask one thing,” Ernie said, breaking into a grin. “Don’t lose to Luigi’s. That’s my cousin’s place. We’ll have a dinner wagered on that game, believe me.”

5
    Opening Day
    C oach Diaz carried a box of orange T-shirts across the rec field. He tossed Calvin a shirt with the YMCA logo and LITTLE ITALY in blue block letters. Calvin scrambled out of his tank top and pulled the new shirt over his head. Number 9.
    “First game,” Coach Diaz said, gathering the team around him. “Two twenty-four minute halves. We’ll keep it simple.” He held up a clipboard with a diagram of a soccer field drawn on it. “Let’s go over the positions again.”

    “Two wings,” he said, circling the LW and RW he’d written on the diagram. “Front line, left and right. You’re mostly on offense, but in a seven-on-seven game like this one, you’ll need to hustle back on defense, too. Everybody needs to float—don’t be a mile away from the ball. But don’t crowd up, either. That’s what kills an offense.”
    Coach circled the letter C between the wings. “The center forward. Key guy. Get in position to score.”
    Calvin could already feel his T-shirt sticking to his back. It was early evening, but the weather remained hot and humid. It hadn’t rained in weeks.
    Coach pointed to the two MIDs he had written below the front line. “Midfielders. Support the offense; remember that triangle pattern we tried. And work your butts off on defense. Keep the ball away from our goal.
    “Sweeper. You play behind the midfielders but work with them.
    “Goalie. Stop the shots. When you have the ball, get it up the field to a teammate. Any questions?”
    Calvin put up his hand. “What positions are we playing?”
    “I’ll get to that. One rule. One major, essential, critical rule: Pass the ball. Pass it. Then move into position for a return pass. That’s how you move the soccer ball. Dribble if you have space, but don’t ever just put your head down and chase it.”
    Coach looked at his watch. “We’ve got ten minutes. Grab a ball and dribble two laps around the field, then get back here and I’ll give you your positions. Let’s hustle.”
    Calvin picked a ball