Disclaimer: Story characters belong to the author, any resemblances to real people are entirely coincidental.
Content Advisory: Adult situations, language, sexual references
Copyright, 2010, Quonus10
I hope you enjoy it. Please comment to: belsport09@gmail.com
- Chapter 32: Head In The Game
"Hey Tellerman," Coach screamed from the sideline closest to Jason. "Get your head in the game, or I'm taking you out."
"Yes, sir," he shouted back. When asked before the game, he assured everyone he was okay to play. Now he wasn't living up to his words.
"C'mon, Jase, we need you man." Davis gave him a pat on the back as he ran by.
"We need this game, dude." Eric told him as they both ran back toward their own goal.
Standing by mid field, Jason realized he was letting his team mates down; the same team mates who stood with him when he needed them most. Putting his hands on his knees, he took a deep breath and refocused his attention on the game. Peter would be there when they were done and not being useful to the team wasn't going to change that.
Another deep breath and he moved toward the left side line, drawing two defenders with him. Darryl chased down the ball and was moving up the sideline. Waiting until Darryl gave him the sign, he broke toward the goal just as the ball was kicked. Feigning left, he broke right, slipping through the two players guarding him. One of them tried to trip him, but he anticipated this and leapt over the outstretched foot.
The move cost one of the defenders a step, a step Jason used to surge ahead. Using his body to shield the second defender from getting an angle on the ball, Jason reached the ball first, pushing it ahead of him. Eric was cutting across and he could see two other teammates coming up the center, along with several defenders.
Faking a pass to Eric, he froze his defender and the goalie for a spit second. Pivoting as quick as he could, he fired a shot from twenty yards out, aiming for the top left corner of the goal post. Unsure it would make it where he sent it, he ran toward the goal along with a pack of other players.
Tight and fast, his shot kissed the inside of the goal post, just beyond the goalie's fingers, stopping only when it hit the net. His momentum took him to almost to the penalty spot before his teammates mobbed him. From the stands he could hear Dean screaming his name, as well as the coach yelling 'yeah, yeah, that's what I want.'
As he ran back to his side of the field, the defender he beat said in a loud voice, 'Faggot.'
Davis and Darryl stopped and might have gone after him, but Jason grabbed their arms. "It's not worth it. Besides, this faggot just burned his lame ass."
Whatever else the defender expected, this was obviously not it. Laughing, they all got back on side, ready for the restart.
Trailing 2-1, their opponent began to press harder. Jason kept his place at the edge of his side, keeping one defender and the goalie close enough to be out of the play. When his goalie snagged the ball near the top of the penalty area, he dropped kicked it down the left side. Jason surged forward, hoping to get a clean shot off before the goalie was set.
The ball angled toward the sideline, but he figured he could reach it before it crossed the touch line. Three or four steps away, his feet were swept out from under him, sending him diving face first into the soft pitch in front of his coach and teammates.
"Who burned who now, faggot?" Jason looked up to see the same defender spit to the side before walking off.
Amid a chorus of protests from his sideline, the whistle blew. Getting up, he saw the assistant referee waving his flag straight up while motioning for the Referee to come over. Separating both sides to prevent any further incidents, the two officials walked up the side line to avoid Coach Slewman and the other players who were trying to hear what they were saying. Jason thought he saw the AR mouth the word, 'faggot' just before turning from view. Several of his teammates ran to check on him as he brushed himself off.
"You okay, Jase?" Darryl asked. "That was deliberate, he needs to be tossed."
"I'm fine, just let it go." Firing up his teammate would likely result in the loss of one of their players.
Jogging back, the Referee ran straight for the offending player. Pulling out a red card, he wrote the players number down as the player and his teammates objected. From the far side line, the other coach went ballistic, demanding an explanation.
"Are you okay, son?" The referee asked him. When Jason nodded, the man sprinted to the far sideline. A brief, but animated discussion took place, at the end of which, the coach was glaring at his player. Both hands raised, as if to say, 'I don't know,' the player got an earful from his coach before being sent away.
Darryl lined up to take the free kick, so Jason stood at the end of the wall the defenders set up.
"Ten yards, Ref," Darryl called out.
Pacing back, the official set the mark for everyone. A couple of the other players tried to cheat up, but Jason and his teammates held their ground, staying parallel with the assistant referee.
Winking directly at Jason, Darryl ran forward. Ten years of playing together told Jason what was coming next. He broke backward when his friend's foot hit the ball. The AR kept the flag down as he moved. Timed that right, he thought, now I need to get this right.
Chipped over the defenders, the ball was not a shot on goal as the other team expected. Trying to time it right, Jason waited for the ball to come down, knowing he had but a second before everyone converged on him. Leaping up and sideways, he felt his leg connect with the ball. An elbow struck him in the back as he fell, pushing him slightly over, enough that he couldn't keep his eyes on the goal.
A roar went up from his side of the field. Before he could look up, a dozen hands were all over him.
"Fucking amazing, dude," Eric screamed as he helped Jason up. Running as a pack back to their side, Jason couldn't help smiling. When Darryl came close he jumped up into his best friend's arms.
"Amazing chip, D, that was fucking great!"
"Just like old times." Darryl hugged him tight.
Coach Slewman was screaming at them to keep pressing, that the other team was still a man down. Several times when Jason sought to break out, he was accosted, harder than he normally experienced.
A defender cleared the ball over the touch line and the Coach screamed, "SUB!"
The referee signaled for them to make the change and Coach Slewman yelled, "Tellerman, you're off."
Stunned, Jason stared at him blankly.
"Get your ass over here, Tellerman!" His coach's gravelly voice jolted him into motion.
Crossing the white line, Andy Weiss smacked him on the back and ran onto the pitch.
"Why?" He tried to get his coach's attention, the older man refused to look at him. "I was playing hard."
"It's almost the ninety minute mark, we're up two goals and in case you weren't paying attention, they seem to be checking you harder than normal." Coach finally took his eyes off the field to look directly at Jason. "I'm not going to let some pin head jerks take out my star player."
He rubbed Jason's dirty head, patted him on the butt before motioning him to get back. The other players all mobbed him as he walked over, unhappy at being taken out.
He didn't need protecting. In fact, he handled things pretty well, using their attempts to cheap shot him and eluded them. Now, he was being taken out because he gay. Not because his coach didn't approve, but because the other team was harassing him.
"Three minutes," the Referee yelled.
"C'mon Jase!" Blake jumped on his back. "We win this, we make the playoffs!"
Despite his disappointment, Blake's enthusiasm was contagious. Cheering on his teammates until he was hoarse, he joined them on the side in celebrating when the final whistle blew.
Watching the guys on the pitch celebrate left him a pang of regret that he wasn't out there at the end. Lost in his own self pity, he almost didn't hear the coach yell to line up. Trying to get in line the coach put a hand on his chest.
"You did great, Jason, I'm proud of you for pulling it together when we needed it." He slapped Jason's shoulder. "Go on, join your teammates."
Jogging out, with Coach Slewman a step behind him, Jason realized he was deliberately held back, so he could be right in front of the coaches. "I don't need protecting, Coach."
"We'll talk after the game, Tellerman." The terse words told Jason this was not the time.
A couple players from the other team barely acknowledged him, their eyes focused on the hulking figure of Coach Slewman, a step behind. Jason didn't care, he showed them who he was on the field.
"Hold on, son." A hand grabbed his arm.
The other coach was right in front of him.
"Let me apologize for my player." His words sounded sincere. "There's no place for that in the game. You're a damn fine player, someone I would be proud to have on my team."
Jason noticed other players were standing nearby.
"I'm sorry about your friend and how some of my guys treated you. It won't happen again." He held out a hand.
Shaking the man's hand, Jason said, "Thank you, sir, I appreciate that."
Jason jogged off to where his teammates were jumping up and down, waiting for him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the two coaches talking. Coach Slewman was smiling, pumping his counterparts hand vigorously. They both had a hand on the other shoulder as they talked for much longer than was normal.
The Referee came over with a ball in his hand. "Nice game, guys." He handed the ball to Jason. "Helluva pair of goals."
Jason smiled. "Thank you, sir."
He accepted the ball and was immediately mobbed again by his teammates.
Running back to the sidelines, the crowd applauded the team one more time. Scanning the crowd he saw his parents and Dean. Next to his family he was surprised to see Tom and Betsy, laughing along with his mom and dad.
"Tellerman! Gimme the ball." Coach Slewman stood a foot away with his hand outstretched.
Staring at the ball for a second, he tossed it over. Ball in hand, the coach gestured to an assistant coach who handed him a Sharpe. Quickly signing the ball, he handed it and the pen to the assistant coach. "Everyone sign the ball. We're going to give it to Mrs. Gregory later today in honor of Jason's two goals!"
People were slapping him on the back, messing his hair, punching his arms playfully until he couldn't keep his head up.
"No practice tomorrow, but three-thirty Monday." Coach said. "Hell of a game all of you, well played. I'm proud of how you worked your butts off and really supported each other out there. Ref commented on the character of our team. High praise from him as he was a FIFA Ref. This is the best bunch of players I remember having. I'm proud to be your coach, now go get cleaned up."
Jason watched his teammates walked off. "Hey, Coach?"
"What do you want, Tellerman?"
"I don't need protecting, coach."
"This is my team not yours." Although he did not sound mad, his tone was firm. "I decide how to use my players."
"It sucks being on the sideline when the game ends."
"It would suck worse if you were on a stretcher." He raised a bushy eyebrow at Jason.
"So anytime someone calls me a fag or something, I have to come out?"
Coach Slewman's eyes narrowed when Jason said, 'fag.' "Each game will be evaluated on its own merits. I need you, Jason." His tone softened. "What you did today is what we expect from you every game. If you go down hurt for no reason, that isn't going to do the team any good."
Jason kicked at clump of dirt refusing to meet his coach's stare. "I was handling it fine."
"Yes, you were. And as long as the game was in doubt, I kept you in the game. When it appeared to me it was time to protect my players, I took you out."
Jason heard the words, but wasn't happy. More than that, he owed it to Peter not to let others keep him down just because he was gay. If Peter was in the hospital because he was gay, Jason was going to show everyone he wasn't afraid. "I don't want to be babied, coach."
Coach Slewman gripped his shoulder. "Good, you shouldn't expect me to baby you, ever. If the game were close, you would not have been subbed out. So I hope you're right that you can handle it, because unless you're in danger of being hurt, I am going to leave you in when it matters."
Jason brightened a bit at this reassurance.
"This has nothing to do with your being gay." He paused until Jason looked at him. "It has everything to do with you being a great player that I can't afford to lose. When the decision isn't in doubt, and they're taking cheap shots at you, no I'm not going to leave you in. That would be the case if it were Darryl or Eric or anyone else. This wasn't personal, it was for the good of the team."
He nodded. "Yes, sir. I understand."
"And I wanted you at the back with me just in case. So yes, I was protecting you then, but I also wanted you to be the last one they saw. That way there was no doubt they would know it was you who beat their asses." He nodded his head to the side as he smirked.
Jason laughed. "Remind me not to get on your bad side."
"See that you don't, because I'm not a good enemy to have."
From the corner of his eye, Jason saw his parents coming over with the others. "Got a minute to say hi to my parents and brother?"
"Sure, but just a minute. And . . ." He waited for Jason to look back. "Just this one time. I don't make a habit of keeping the team waiting for our meeting."
Coach Slewman already knew the Tellermans, having recruited Jason. He exchanged pleasantries when Jason introduced him to Tom Gregory and his wife. When he got to Dean he shook hands.
"You coming to help your brother next year?"
Dean blushed. "I don't think I'm near as good as him."
"What a crock." Jason grabbed his brother around the neck. "Coach, he's a better player than I am, trust me. He works harder and plays tough all game."
"High praise." He winked at Dean. "I need to go, pleasure meeting you all. Don't take too long, Jason."
Jason was stunned the coach was letting him stay for a minute. "No, sir, I won't."
"Good." The coach walked slowly toward the locker room.
"Way to go, bro, that was awesome." The brothers high fived, low fived then gave each other a jumping hip check.
If he thought his smile was goofy, his parents' were even bigger.
"Great game, son," his Dad said. The others echoed his words. "We're going to head back soon. But it was good seeing you play again. We don't do it enough."
"It's okay, Dad, you guys are busy. I appreciate that you came today." He left out the problems he and his Mom had the past year. His brother stood with his hands in his pocket, a small frown on his face.
"Hey, can Dean stay till tomorrow? I could use the company."
Dean stared at his brother, the beginnings of a smile on his face.
"How will he get home?" Barbara asked.
"Well," Jason hedged. "You both drove, that would leave a car for him to take back tomorrow."
"Yeah, Dad," Dean echoed. "I can drive back tomorrow."
"You two have this all figured out?" Royce eyed them both, unable to suppress a smile.
"Actually, I didn't speak to Dean about it till now. He might not really want to hang with me." He turned to check with his brother to see Dean grinning ear to ear.
"It's totally cool. I can stay."
Their parents looked at each other. When Barbara shrugged, Royce said. "Fine by us, but be sure to back before nine on Sunday night, got that?"
This last part was directed to Dean.
"No problem, Dad." Dean looked about leap up.
"But what is he going to wear?" Barbara asked suddenly. "He didn't pack for an extra day."
"I got stuff he can wear," Jason said. "It won't be a problem."
Jason was about to run off when he saw Ed and his brother hovering off to the side. He waved them over. When everyone turned to see who Jason was waving to, the pair had no choice but to come over.
"This is my friend Ed and his brother Mike."
They all shook hands.
"Hell of a soccer game, eh?" Royce said to break the ice.
"Yes, sir," Ed said, as his brother nodded. "Jason played a hell of a game. I didn't know he was such a good player when he invited me to come see the game."
Before his father could say anything, Jason said, "Hey I don't like to brag. That's what parents are for."
Royce shook his head at his son's comment. "Nice meeting you both. Enjoy the rest of your weekend. Come on, Dean, let's go get the cars straightened out."
Jason hugged his parents. When the three of them were out of earshot he turned toward his friends.
"Thanks for coming, Ed. You too, Mike." He almost laughed, recalling he called him Marcus earlier today.
"Mike didn't feel like going out too early."
Smiling at Mike, he said, "I never connected you to Ed before. I can be sorta dumb that way."
Mike laughed. "Don't feel bad, I had no idea you two knew each other. Guess that makes us equal."
"Why did their defender get the red card?" Ed's question prevented Jason from commenting.
"Not sure, really." Jason shrugged. "He called me a faggot and the AR heard it. On the other hand, he should have been tossed for the tackle from behind. Judging from everyone's reaction on their sideline, it was for both the comment and the tackle."
"Damn, what an asshole." Mike sneered.
"I suppose. Didn't let it bug me; well not too much at least." Jason grinned and added, "I did tell him this faggot was the one who burned his ass and scored."
"Good for you." Ed laughed.
"You really aren't upset, are you?" Mike sounded more upset than Jason.
"Not really," Jason said. "Getting mad would've gotten me kicked out of the game, which is what he wanted."
"Good for you," Ed said again. "Isn't that what happened in the 2006 World Cup? The Italian player provoked the French player who got tossed and it ended up hurting his team."
Jason nodded, looking over to see where Dean was. He didn't want to press his luck with Coach by waiting too long.
"So, you think he should just take it and do nothing?" Mike looked from Jason to his brother.
"Ignore it, yes."
"If they think it bugs me they'll keep doing it to me," Jason explained. "And, it's not the first time someone called me that. I'm learning to ignore it."
"I'm not sure ignoring it is the right thing." Ed twisted his lips and shook his head. "Not letting it get to you is one thing, ignoring it does nothing to put an end to it."
Jason understood his point, but on the field he needed to ignore it. "Maybe in general, but on the pitch, that's for the referee and Coach to deal with."
Across the field, he saw Dean jogging back. "Hey guys, thanks again for coming, but I gotta shower, and we are having a short team meeting. Nice seeing you both again." Jason shook hands with both.
Grabbing his stuff, he motioned for his brother to change directions. Together they jogged to the field house, both smiling.
"Let me get a quick shower then we can head back to my place."
"No rush, I have all day now." Dean's smile was infectious. "Thanks for getting them to let me stay."
"No problem, you're good company." He grabbed him around the neck as they ran. "It's good hanging with you again."
"Sweet." Dean looked happy. "Works for me too."
They entered the locker room, before Jason could answer. Several of his teammates jumped him, screaming about the game. He laughed along with them, shouting comments. If Peter were here to watch, he might have enjoyed the moment. Putting on a happy face he didn't feel, he tried to joke with his teammates.
After a minute he searched for his brother. Dean was standing by the door, talking to Darryl, a big smile on his face. Good, he thought, he's not alone and feeling out of place.
"Hey, let me get a shower before the meeting." He worked his way to his locker.
"What a prima-donna," someone shouted.
"Hey cut me some slack, my parents were here." He pulled his muddy jersey over his head.
"Yeah," Davis called out. "Don't piss them off, they might take your Beamer away.
Meant as a joke, the comment had the opposite effect, reminding him of what caused Peter being out alone. He turned toward his locker, swallowing. "Exactly."
Leaving his dirty clothes in a pile he quickly made it to the showers. Lousy water pressure made it hard to feel really clean. He focused on getting the majority of the dirt out, figuring he could take a real shower at home.
Drying off, he hurried so he didn't leave his brother alone too long. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he ran his hand through his hair. He found Dean seated by his locker surrounded by a group of his teammates. If he was uncomfortable, he didn't show it. "Hey, big Tellerman," Matt said. "Are you gonna talk little Tellerman into playing for us next year?" Matt was going to be the only starter returning on defense next year.
"C'mon Hopkins, that's a recruiting violation," someone joked.
"Besides, no offense guys, but Dean's Division 1A bound." Jason patted his brother on the back. Dean half smiled, half hung his head, not looking at anyone.
"Oh, is that it?" Davis asked. "Good enough to hang out with us, but too good to play with us?"
Dean looked to Jason, his smile gone.
"He's joking, Dean." Jason gave Davis a shove.
"Sorry," Davis said quickly. "Jason's always bragging about you. I can't tell you how many times he told us you made try outs for the U.S. U-19 squad."
"Really?"
"Fuck yeah," Matt answered. "He's your biggest fan."
"Would everyone mind giving me a little room to get dressed?" Jason tried to push his way in front of his locker. "I would rather not head to the meeting in a towel."
"But you look so lovely in it." Matt joked. As soon as he said it, everyone went silent.
"It's a joke. You can laugh." Jason shook his head. "Besides, even if he was trying to pick me up, I'd run away. I'm afraid of Matt's girlfriend. Those field hockey women could kick my ass."
Relieved, Matt threw a dirty towel at Jason. "Hey you better worry about me instead, I can kick your ass too."
"Whatever." Jason threw the towel back, then for good measure took off his towel and tossed it as well. "You would need to catch me first. Everyone knows defenders are wanna be strikers who are too slow."
Eric laughed, drawing more than a few dirty towels tossed his way. "Hey!" he protested. "He said it."
"Yeah, but you're laughing," Matt answered for the defenders.
Jason got dressed in record time. "C'mon Dean, I don't think Coach will mind if you sit in on the meeting."
As promised, the meeting was brief. Coach Slewman gave Jason the signed ball to give to Mrs. Gregory. Several guys were going for pizza and invited him and Dean to join them. Jason was torn; on the one hand, he really wanted to go see Peter. But he invited his brother to stay the weekend. How fun would it be for Dean to watch him sit and cry at Peter's bedside? He could tell Dean enjoyed being around the team, so he knew his brother wanted to go.
"We can go." His agreement earned him another smile from his brother. "First we need to drop my dad's car off at the apartment."
"Man, that means you'll go shower and it'll be an hour before you get there," Davis griped.
Jason held up both hands. "Promise, I won't even get out of the car. Dean'll make sure."
"Trust me, I will," Dean assured them.
"Damn, Deano, we need you around more often to keep him in line." Darryl laughed.
Dean glared at Darryl as the others laughed.
"C'mon, Darryl, we stopped calling him that years ago." He stared at his best friend smirking. "If you're not careful, we might resurrect the nickname your older brothers gave you."
"Whoa, we don't need to go there," Darryl said quickly. "Sorry, Dean, old habits."
"Large, double cheese and pepperoni for me and Dean." He looked to his brother for approval. When Dean nodded, Jason added, "I'll pay you when we get there."
"Dad gave me money for dinner," Dean said as they ran for the cars. "This one's on me."
"You mean on Royce."