Renaissance Man - Part 1

Scene 03 _ Meet the Team (First Soccer Practice)

Scene 03 Rev G

Scene 03 “Meet the Team”

Torey Campbell – Protagonist
Addo Okoro – Best friend
Willem Dreyer – Soccer coach

         Twenty minutes 'til three, Torey thought, opening the door and entering his house.
         He exchanged greetings with his mother, threw his school books on the couch, and ran upstairs to change out of his school clothes. Back downstairs in jeans and a T-shirt, he headed for the back porch where his bicycle was chained to the rail.
         "Love you, Mom. I'm going to Runestone Park to play soccer," Torey said, passing through the kitchen, the screen door clacking in the doorframe behind him.
         "Love you too. Have fun," Nessie Campbell replied absent-mindedly without looking up from peeling potatoes for tonight’s supper, not realizing what her son had just said. "Don't be late; we're having ‘Stovies' for dinner."
         Torey unchained his bike, carried it off the porch, out of the yard, jumped on, and pedaled the few short strokes down the alley to Penrose Ave. All in one fluid motion made possible by hundreds of repetitions.
         Torey reached Runestone Park in no time, darting in and out of traffic, and shortcutting through alleys, as only a city boy in a hurry can do. It took longer to find the soccer fields than it did to reach the park. He had never been to that part of the park before.
         He spotted Addo with two other boys he'd met at the pick-up soccer game yesterday and headed their way. He pulled up by the field, chained his bike to the structure of the bleachers, and checked his watch. "Two minutes after three. Not bad", he told himself.
         Addo was standing by the bleachers with several boys and a man. "Hi Addo," Torey said as he approached.
         "Hi yourself," Addo returned with a big smile. "Glad you made it."
         Addo turned to coach and said, "Mr. Dreyer, this is Torey Campbell. I met him yesterday during a pick-up game at the old field on Fletcher Avenue. He's never played soccer before, but I think he could be pretty good."
         "Pleased to meet you Torey. I'm Willem Dreyer", said the 6'-3" barrel-chested man, with a wide smile that made Torey feel completely at ease. He held out his hand to Torey. Torey had never seen a hand so big. This guy is a giant, he thought. Torey shook his hand and replied," Pleased to meet you too, sir."
         "Addo, why don't you introduce Torey around before we get started," said Dreyer.
         Torey's appearance didn't seem to bother Dreyer, or Addo, or the other players as the introductions proceeded, but it sure bothered Torey. He was in jeans and sneakers. All the other boys were wearing shorts, knee socks, and shoes with cleats – obviously designed for soccer. By the bleachers was a pile of gym bags; each probably containing a water bottle, a towel, and who knows what else. Torey suddenly felt out of place and entirely unprepared. He tried to look cool and hoped his unease didn't show.
         The practice consisted of stretching, warm-up exercises, field drills with a soccer ball, and wind sprints. Then came a water break followed by a half-hour scrimmage. Torey kept up through the warm-ups. He made it through the field drills, although quite clumsy with the soccer ball. The wind sprints wiped him out: he thought his lungs would explode. My God, these guys are in shape. I'm never going to make it, he thought.
         Addo had been watching Torey throughout the session. At break time, he offered Torey some of his water, realizing Torey had brought nothing with him. After a moment he spoke.
         "First time, OK. Next time come prepared." Addo said holding back a scornful smile.
         "Gottcha" replied Torey, who smiled, then broke out in a rollicking belly laugh.
         Addo joined in. They became friends in that instant.
         The scrimmage went better for Torey. He was able to scramble pretty well with the other players, although he got whistled a lot for breaking rules he didn't know existed. Each time, someone would explain the rule. Torey was a quick study; he broke a lot of rules but never the same one twice.
         As the scrimmage progressed, Torey noticed the sole coming off his left sneaker. It finally gave out, on a hard stop and turn, tearing completely off, leaving him standing on his stocking foot with the upper around his ankle. He intently observed the rest of the game from the bleachers – watching the play of all the players, but especially Addo.
         On the soccer field, Addo sent the other players scurrying about in willing obedience, with a command here and a compliment there. In this time and place there could be no higher compliment. The Field Marshall air was lost in a second when he addressed the coach, and no fawning courtier to a Grand Monarch could purr so low. "Did we do that right, Coach," he frequently asked.
         Sitting there, watching the play, Torey realized the magnitude of his dilemma. I'm unprepared for this game, and now I don't even have a pair of beat-up sneakers to wear.
         After practice, when the players had dispersed, Addo and Coach joined him.
         "Well Torey, what do you think of all this?" asked Dreyer.
         "Mr. Dreyer. I can't play on your team," replied Torey, choking up. "I don't have any gear. I have T-shirts, but no shorts, no socks, no bag, and absolutely no shoes and no ball, and I don't have money to buy that stuff."
         Dreyer looked Torey in the eye for a long moment. "Do you want to play? Do you really want to play?" he asked.
         "Yes, sir. I do. I've never felt as good as I did today on the field," replied Torey.
         "Then you, Addo, and I will make it work. Together we'll make it work if you don't quit. Deal?" asked Coach, holding out his hand to shake.
         "Deal," said Torey, shaking Dreyer's massive hand. There was something reassuring in his enormous hand. Young Torey Campbell suddenly felt this might work out after all.
         Torey jumped on his bike, in his stocking feet, with his one and a half shoes tied together and slung over his shoulder. Pedaling home, he thought about the scolding he'd surely get over his ruined shoes.
         Does everybody live like this, or just us? The question nagged him all the way home, as it had on days past and would on days to come.

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Word Count: 1,059
Readability Consensus (based on 8 readability formulas)
         Grade Level: 5
         Reading Level: easy to read.
         Reader's Age: 8-9 yrs. old (Fourth and Fifth graders)