‘I don’t know, Jen,’ I say. ‘I didn’t … I mean, I wasn’t sure what to expect but—’
‘You know why I wanted you to be assistant coach?’ Jen stops in her tracks, turning to look at me with utter sincerity in her expression.
‘Because I was the only one who would do it?’
Jen smiles. ‘I wanted you to do it because I think that if there’s anyone who can get these girls to like football – maybe even love it – it’s you. You can show them what you liked about it, and you can help them hone their talents. If nothing else, you can get them to enjoy it for this summer, and maybe even win a few matches.’
Jen’s confidence in me is baffling, and totally misplaced. Especially when I’ve never coached in my life.
‘I know you can do this, Dina. And you’ve got me. I’ve got you. We’re going to get this team into shape together,’ Jen continues.
That, at least, brings a smile to my lips. It’s nice to have Jen around again. Her energy is a little infectious, and the fact that she’s unwilling to give up is pretty commendable. It was one of the things I admired about her back when she was our coach. No matter how much we struggled, Jen never gave up on us. She always believed that we could do whatever we set our minds to.
And she could be right – maybe between the two of us we really can do it.
Chapter 10
Maya
The first day of my coaching job rolls around fast. Ms Jacobs is bouncing on her heels when I show up at the entrance of the park. She waves me over, while putting out her cigarette.
‘It’s so good to see you again, Maya,’ she says brightly. ‘Let’s go meet the team, shall we?’
She leads me through the park, towards the field, where a group of girls are already waiting. They’re dressed in purple-and-white football shirts and shorts with the Westbrook school logo emblazoned on them, kicking a ball around between them. They stop as soon as Ms Jacobs and I make our entrance, and their eyes seem to light up.
‘Good afternoon, girls,’ Ms Jacobs says.
‘Good afternoon!’ they repeat in unison. Their eyes drift towards me instead of Ms Jacobs.
‘This is Maya Alam. I know some of you probably already know her,’ Ms Jacobs says, waving an arm towards me. ‘We’re very lucky that she’s agreed to coach the team over the summer. I hope you realise just how fortunate you are that she’s found time in her busy schedule to do this for us.’
I almost wince at that. My ‘busy schedule’ includes avoiding my parents’ sympathetic glances, scrolling the r/womenssoccer subreddit to see what people have been sayingabout me and lying around in bed feeling sorry for myself.
‘I’m excited to be here,’ I say, smiling at the students as enthusiastically as I can, even if my enthusiasm feels put on. In reality, I feel out of my depth, having these young girls look at me with their admiring gazes. There’s nothing to admire about me, and I certainly don’t feel that I’m cut out to be their full-time coach for the summer. I’m sure it won’t be long before everyone figures it out.
‘Well, I’ll leave you to it,’ Ms Jacobs says, nodding to the students. ‘I expect you to be on your best behaviour, girls.’
My stomach sinks. I didn’t think Ms Jacobs would just throw me in at the deep end like this.
‘Give me a call if you need anything,’ Ms Jacobs says to me in a low voice. ‘But I know you’ve got this.’
I offer her a weak smile before turning back to the girls. They’re watching me expectantly and suddenly I feel weird and out of place. I’ve been practising all of the different ways I could start off today – how I would be cool and collected as I officially introduced myself as their coach – but now, as I look at their smiling faces, my mouth becomes dry. ‘Um, so … wow. Our first official practice session. I’m, uh, Maya. It’s really nice to be here, and I’m excited to get to know all of you.’
The girls don’t respond. They blink at me in anticipation and I feel like they must know that I’m an imposter. After this practice, they’ll probably go and tell Ms Jacobs that she hired a phony to be their coach.
‘Could you show us how you scored that penalty kick in your match against the San Diego Strikers?’ one of the girls pipes up finally, the enthusiasm clear in her voice. ‘None of us thought you’d score, but you did.’
A flood of relief washes over me. Here’s something that Iknow – that match and exactly how we won it. The Strikers scored their first goal within the first fifteen minutes, and try as we might, we just couldn’t find an equaliser. And while our defence did its job by not letting them score again, their defence had been tough too. They managed to wrangle the ball from us at every turn, and we didn’t even make it anywhere near their goal until the second half of the match. It was only when we went into added-on time that we actually managed to score. The joy I’d felt at that had been overwhelming.
And then the penalties. The pressure as the time ticked by. Watching the goalkeeper with a keen eye as I calculated how to strike the ball. Where to place it.
Our entire team had already seemed to accept defeat because the Strikers were practically undefeated at shoot-outs.
‘Do your best,’ the captain, Stacey Morrow, had told me right before I took the penalty. It was make or break. I could lead the team to victory with this penalty, or lead us to defeat.
And when I scored, the entire stadium erupted into raucous shouts and applause. For an entire minute, everything seemed to unfold in front of me as if in slow motion: my teammates as they rushed up to me, their faces split into the widest grins I’d ever seen. The other team’s looks of bafflement. Our coach on the touchline jumping up and down with joy. In that moment, I remembered exactly what I loved about playing football; the absolute rush of adrenaline, the thrill of victory, the shared camaraderie in all of it.
‘How about we all practise some penalties?’ I ask now, feeling a little bit more capable of being able to do this after being reminded of that victory.
