Touch Football Part III

It's Sunday again! My new favorite day of the week. (It used to be Thursday...but I'll talk about that another time.) I came up with the next installment of this story on Tuesday, and I've been itching to get it all written down so I don't forget it. All of the other SOS stories sound great, and I love the idea of guest hosts. Here's the link to the wonderful Brillig blog and home of Soap Opera Sunday.





When I was a boy, my family held biannual celebrations on Memorial Day and Labor Day at our second home in Western Massachusetts. This was the first year I was allowed to invite my own guests, along with my parents', to this big party. Naturally, I invited Melissa, and naturally I invited Chase.

Chase was in my small branch, north of Scarsdale where we were the only two boys in our age group, 14-15. He was the only one for a long time, but when I turned 14 last week, we became the largest group in the young men classes. We were getting closer, but before my birthday, I didn't really know him all that well. He was an Aussie, and came to this country only a year ago. I already knew what the powers of his wonderfully accented voice did to girls at church, and I only prayed I could entertain Melissa long enough so she would never need to hear his pleasent croon. He seemed pleased enough that he was invited, and we decided to have a sleepover and carpool to the festival. Melissa also was excited about the next weekend, but preoccupied about the earth science exam we would have the following Monday - It amazed me at how fun-loving, hard-working, bright-smiling she was every day.

The day of the party was quite an interesting one. For me, things turned for the worst the second she asked me,



"Hey who's that guy over there in the corner listenening to his iPod?"



Of course, she was referring to Chase, and of course, I jsut about fell apart right then and there. This was my party and they were both my friends. How come she had to notice what he was doing and what he was wearing, and not my new sweater and jacket I had bought for the occasion. Besides, what did she know about him?



"Wait a minute", I remember thinking. "Maybe I'm overreacting. She was just making a comment." "She could have said that about any other guy in the room though", I argued back. "That doesn't mean she likes him. Does it?" This was another one of those female apprehensions that I was cursed with at birth. I hated being self-concious about what girls thought about me, and worse, what they thought about other boys. I just needed to get control of myself and get my mind off of it.



EUREKA!



I would start a game of football. Football was an all guy sport, and I would get a chance to show Melissa my hidden talent. I was always too small to try out for the school team, but I had loved this sport my whole life.



I jumped out of my seat and started the hunt. I needed at least 5 boys to start a 3 on 3 game, and maybe if I was desperate I could ask my dad to play with us. I told Melissa about our plans, and that I wanted her to be there. She agreed whole-heartedly, sending me into another frenzy of worries. "What if I drop the ball? What if one of the guys I find is better than me? What if Melissa falls for one of them?" I ran into (literally RAN into) Chase on my way to the backyard, so I asked him to join me. He said that he would, and helped me recruite more people. At the end of 30 minutes, we had me, Chase, Chase's dad, Melissa's brother Hank, and her dad. An odd number. Great! This wasn't the greatest group of people to play with anyways. Two dads and someone's little brother. It wasn't exactly my idea of fun until, wouldn't you know it, Melissa walks over and offers herself to be the tird player on her brother and father's team. This was not going at all as planned. I'm playing against her? I knew I wouldn't be able to concentrate with ehr watching, but her playing too. I looked up at her face smiling brilliantly against the otherwise cold, dark day, and thought that mayube this would work out.

Our team started (me, Chase, and his dad), and we kicked a long punt out the back end of the "endzone". Melissa bounded over the ball and took it back to the 20 yard line where the next play would begin. She whipped her hair around in the wind till all of it sat on one shoulder and bent down to toss the quarterback the ball. Hank caught it, and ran around Chase, going down the whole length of the field to score the first touchdown of the field. Melissa laughed and ran down to congratulate her brother. As we walked past them to recieve the next kick, Melissa yelled,

"Just couldn't get in front of him fast enough, huh?"

Chase was quite annoyed with himself, so in his irrestistible accent responded, "You see, I haven't started playing yet mate."

I could tell Melissa was not expecting that response from him, and especially not in that accent, because she flushed pink and put her head down supressing a smile and giggle. We countinued the play, and after about 5 minutes, we scored another touchdown. Melissa was quite pleased again, and when Chase passed her on the field, he simply whispered, "No comments, please." She started laughing, and I could tell Chase was laughing too. I remember thinking how lucky Chase was that he didn't even have to try, and he made her laugh at the silliest things.
Chase's team had the ball, and he was the quarterback. Melissa planted herself right in front of him, so when he started running, she was hot on his tail. She was about an arm's distance away when he stuck his foot out behind him and tripped her on to the ground. I could see his wild grin as he continued running down to the endzone, scoring for the first time. I, of course, ran right over to Melissa to see that she was okay. I reached my hand out, and at the same time saw another hand reach out. Melissa looked up and grabbed Chase's fingers, and he wrapped the rest of his palm into her grip. She let out a sigh and brushed herself off.

"Look at that. Good as new."

"I'm glad you're okay," he said, playfully.

"Yup. I'm fine."

"Next time you better watch your feet," he cautioned in that same playful tone.

Melissa laughed her happy laugh and the game begun again.
Our team was winning, 5-3, after playing for about 45 minutes. We weren't really keeping track of time or rules, although Hank and his dad were getting quite caught up in it. Chase and his dad weren't that accustomed to all the rules of "fake rugby" as he called it, so I had to go through alot of it with them. That gave me a sense of control and power, which I liked, and it made Chase seem like the greenie who had to be taught everything, which I liked too.
We were just about to finish up, as it was getting very dark and very cold, when Melissa ran the play that would make her team the victors. Her brother tossed her a side lateral right after she hiked it to him, and she bolted up the sideline. Right after Hank passed it, I could tell that she wasn't going to make it. She was too far back when she started the run, and Chase was making for her at top speed. He was a faster runner than her, but not by much, so laughing wickedly toward her, he reached for the ball that she had a tight grip on. He couldn't wrench it loose from her while they were running, so he swept her into his arms and forced her to run the opposite way. The two struggled with each other, laughing hopelessly. His arm was around her waist trying to fight her to the ground, and she was trying to run, but unable to due to Chase's strong hold on her. He decided to stop trying so hard, to give her a chance I imagined at the time, but when he stopped the down ward momentum, they ended up in a posture close to that of the beginning of a waltz, his hands around her waist and her hands around his neck. Time seemed to freeze for me. There she was, completely engrossed and intoxicated by his very presence, when I was right there watching all of this. Their parents had dissappeared, and all that existed was those two and me. I had never felt so alone in my whole life.