Little's Losers by Robert Rayner Page A

Steve’s dad shaking his head and speaking angrily to Mr. Walker.
    But on the field, our new formation begins to take effect. The twins are having fun switching sides every few minutes. I hear them giggling as they exchange positions. The ploy works. The St. Croix defender marking Jessica is totally confused. He thinks Jillian is Jessica and watches her left foot, thinking this is the one she’ll pass with. But Jillian kicks with her right foot. Giggling, she sidesteps the tackle intended to neutralize her left foot, and passes with her right. Meanwhile the defender marking Jillian realizes he’s marking the wrong winger when Jessica sidles up to him, winks, and says, “You’re marking the wrong one.” He looks around desperately for Jillian, leaving Jessica unmarked and ready to receive Jillian’s pass. She runs towards goal. She wants to pass into the centre but everyone is marked.
    â€œShoot!” shouts Mr. Sutton.
    Jessica tries a long shot. The St. Croix goalkeeper has been looking from Jessica to Jillian, wondering which winger he’s facing, and which foot she’ll shoot with. While he’s still wondering, the ball flies past him.
    We’ve got a goal back. It’s 3–1.
    â€œLet’s hear it for the twins!” Shay’s granddad roars from the touchline. Beside him, Conrad and Ma high-five each other. “Yes!” Mr. Walker shouts, and gives a thumbs-up to Miss Little, who beams.
    A few minutes later we’re on the attack again, and the ball bounces out of play for a throw-in near the St. Croix goal. The defenders crowd between their goal and the touchline where Julie will take the throw-in. Julie looks across at Miss Little, who nods back. “Excuse me,” Julie says to the spectators on the touchline around her, and clears a way through them, stopping way back from the touchline. The surprised spectators fall back, giving her room as she paces out her approach to the line. The kids on the bleachers are laughing at Julie’s preparations and are taunting: “Blondie. Blondie.” More St. Croix players, curious, come over to fill the space between the line and their goal. Jillian is on the far edge of the crowd of players, watching Julie carefully. Julie takes a practice run to the line, counting her steps. The referee waves at Julie to stop delaying and take the throw. Julie paces back and trots forward, gathering speed. She does a forward roll, hugging the ball close to herself. As she regains her feet and uncoils, the last parts of the fairy princess to unroll are her arms and her hands, still grasping the ball. She lets it go with her arms at their highest and fastest point, and the combined momentum of her run and her forward roll and her uncoiling enable her to launch the ball over the heads of all the players — all except Jillian, who’s been waiting for this. All alone, she gathers the ball and takes it easily past the astonished St. Croix goalkeeper.
    3–2.
    We’re cooking now. We’re playing as we’ve never played before.
    But as we play better, St. Croix play even more unscrupulously. Three times Steve gets the ball and is about to shoot when he’s tripped. His dad, who’s gone from standing on the touchline with his hands in his pockets looking grumpy to cheering us on excitedly, is getting angry at the treatment Steve’s getting.
    With only five minutes left in the game, we still can’t break through. The St. Croix coach calls a time out. He runs onto the field and starts pointing at defensive positions. He’s getting his team ready to hold us at bay — at all costs.
    â€œGather round, children,” Miss Little calls to us from the sideline.
    She reminds us to continue to play with dignity and grace, no matter how much provocation we receive. “Please, children, do not retaliate. If you play unfairly, you’ll regret it. I want you to leave the field as proudly as you