Theo

You know that feeling when you're charging down the soccer pitch with the ball

and the opposing team swarms?

But then a pocket of space opens up.

You have less than half a millisecond to take an outside-the-foot touch,

move around the defenders, take your shot on goal,

and you actually score?

Nice job, Kaplan!

Coach D never said that unless he meant it. I was flying. Sure, it was against a team that

we'd beaten before, but whatever, I got this feeling that maybe, just maybe, I was legit.

I mean, if nothing else, I'd just tied up the game. We were now officially at the top of the league table. That's what I'm

talking about, my best friend Connor cheered. He started doing a little victory dance for me that

was somewhere between twerking and a chicken

laying eggs. I pushed him away because I didn't want to look full of myself, but honestly,

it was a pretty awesome goal, especially since I usually played defensive mid, and Connor

took shots on goal. Connor and I had been tight since forever,

or I guess since the first day of Future Stars Soccer Clinic when we were four years old.

All I remembered of that day was getting a bloody nose

after a ball smacked me in the face.

Connor said I was super tough stuff

because I just smeared it on my sleeve and kept running.

We hung out together every day after that, usually on a field or in his backyard.

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