“So, back in college —”
“Mr. Kean!”
We both turned to see a girl from Kean’s last game, hair slicked back from sweat, holding a ball and glaring at Kean.
“How come you didn’t let me score? You went easy on everybody else but me!” she cried in frustration, stomping her foot. Kean raised an eyebrow at her then pushed up to stand.
“I didn’t go easy on them, I met them at their level. Just like I met you atyourlevel. You just weren’t playing as well as you could have.”
“That’s bullshit!” she shouted and I covered my mouth to stifle a laugh. I might be in deep shit with my job, but having a kid curse out Kean did make it better.
“So you’re saying you tried your hardest out there?”
Her cheeks puffed up, but she didn’t say anything.
“That’s what I thought. You wanna try for real now?” Without waiting for her to respond, Kean went over to the goal post and took up his position. The girl took one big inhale before running over to the box. She slammed the ball down on the corner and kicked it with all her might, aiming for the far right corner.
Kean didn’t attempt to block her shot, he didn’t have to. It rang against the post and shot off into the field.
“That’s how I know you’re a better player than this,” Kean shouted over to her before grabbing the ball. “You’re frustrated you’re not doing better. But that frustration is what’s making you miss.”
“What do you know? You’re just some old geezer,” the girl muttered, just loud enough that I could hear but Kean couldn’t.
“Lindsey!” some woman shouted and the girl’s head snapped up.
“I’ll be right there, Mom!”
“Dear lord, is she bothering you?” the woman said once she reached the sidelines, stopping next to me. Thankfully she wasn’t one of the cougar moms from before and instead one of the ones who passed out extra bags of chips to the crowd. The best kind of soccer moms.
“Oh, no, Kean’s the one who egged her on. I think he’s having fun challenging her.”
“That’s so sweet,” the mom said, hand to her heart. “Lindsey is … really talented, but she gets bored playing with the other kids and doesn’t apply herself. I was hoping this game would help with that, but she’s too smart for her own good. Once she realized the professionals were taking it easy on her, she lost interest again.”
“Ha! That’s the perfect kid to practice with Kean. He’s stubborn just like that.”
Out on the field, Kean tossed Lindsey the ball and she moved to shoot again. But before she could, Kean shouted, “We’re not in the middle of a game. Take a second to shoot.”
Lindsey didn’t listen and shot low and to the left. It bounced off Kean’s outstretched shin.
“What did I just say? Take your time to come up with a tactic.”
“I was using the surprise tactic.”
“Well, how’d that work out for you?”
“This is some bullshit,” Lindsey muttered and her mother gasped.
“Unless you wanna give me laps every time you curse, you better cut that shit out.”
“You just cursed!” she yelled, pointing at him.
“I’ll do laps with you then.”
“This is, like, the most words I’ve ever heard Kean say in a row,” I told the mom, giggling a little. “You mind if I take a few photos for his socials?”
“Oh yes, we signed all those releases,” she said, waiving a hand at me, eyes still on her daughter. “But this is just so …goodto see her being active like this.”
I gave the mom a pat on the arm and went around taking a few photos of Lindsey kicking at Kean. Giggling when a few of those shots were aimed right at his head rather than the net.
