Page 75 of Playing By Ear

Balornock pushed hard, and in their wildness almost gave up the winning Warriors goal. Alas, Colin’s volley went wide of the net. He loosed a roar of frustration and yanked his shirt up to cover his face.

At last the whistle blew to end the second half. Both teams, one buzzing and the other despondent, returned to the touchline for the brief break before the thirty-minute extra-time period.

“You were brilliant, lad,” Charlotte told Jamie, “and I’m taking you off.”

Jamie would have thanked her, had he any breath remaining.

Pacing in front of the bench, Jamie wished extra time would be abolished so that tied games could go straight to penalties—which, though petrifying, were at least exciting. Usually in extra time, weary teams played with a trepidation that produced few goals. For fans, it offered a sickening tension mixed with eye-glazing boredom.

But no one ever claimed this sport was kind.

At long last, extra time ended, and the exhausted players huffed and puffed their way back to the touchline. Charlotte huddled with all eleven Warriors eligible to take penalties—i.e., those on the pitch at the end of extra time—and passed around the order list so they’d each know when their turn was, if it came to it.

Many managers, Jamie knew, let players volunteer for penalties on the spur of the moment, a sure recipe for angst and recriminations. If there was one thing Charlotte wanted to avoid, it was drama.

Despite practicing penalties with not only goalkeeper Heather but also Duncan—one of the Warriors’ best penalty takers and a budding sport psychologist—the whole endeavor still made Jamie want to boak. But he forced himself to watch, to support his teammates no matter the result.

The two goalkeepers headed for the goal while the twenty outfield players went to stand on the center line. The Warriors formed a long chain with their arms round one another’s shoulders, while the Balornock players each stood alone, arms crossed, feet shifting, looking as nervous as Jamie felt.

Then Mercer broke off and sprinted toward the penalty spot, as if to prove he still had energy left.

Jamie wiped his sweaty palms on the front of his jersey. “I cannae stand this.”

“I hate watching,” Ali said, standing with Jamie and the non-penalty-taking Warriors near the bench. “Rather be out there helping.”

“That makes one of us.”

Mercer took the ball and placed it onto the spot with great force, as if planting a flag on a conquered territory. Heather stared him down, unimpressed. His shot, when it came, flew into the net just past her fingertips.

The Balornock fans whooped and cheered. Jamie braced himself for transphobic or racist comments about Heather, but none came. Their opponents—and their opponents’ fans—truly had matured in the last two years.

Then Fergus stepped forward with the serenity of a mountaintop guru.

The whistle blew. Fergus drew in a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling, then took three long strides. He socked the ball into the lower right corner.

Jamie pumped both fists as the Regiment cheered and Fergus pointed at the sky. Every successful penalty, he’d once told the team, was dedicated to his long-deceased father.

Jamie’s mind turned away from the thought of doing the same. Both sides of that equation—taking a penalty and Martin dying—felt like scenes from a horror film.

Evan and the next two Balornock players all succeeded, bringing the penalty score to 3-2, Balornock.

Duncan went next. The youngest Warrior swaggered up to the penalty spot all cock-of-the-walk. He did a jog before the shot, then stepped forward and slammed the ball. It hit the right post…

…and ricocheted into the goal.

“Fucking hell,” Ali said with a maniacal laugh.

Jamie fanned himself. “I think I just aged a decade.”

Duncan rubbed his spiky brown hair as he trotted back to the halfway line, his face ghost-white from the near miss.

Another Balornock penalty made it 4-3. Shona followed, taking her time after the whistle. Her shot sailed into the upper right corner, utterly fooling the goalkeeper.

“Top bins!” Ali shouted, then shared a high five with Jamie.

4-4.

Haggerty arrived at the penalty spot. If he scored, Colin would need to score the next to keep the shootout going. But if the Balornock striker missed, Colin could win the match with one kick.