Wheeling High School
The blue door leads to a dark hallway only visible by the door’s small window. When the door swings open, it hits you. The strong scent of chlorine. It’s my perfume. The once blue floor is textured. Random puddles line the hallway. Light shines through other door’s window on the opposite end. It’s not a bright light, more of a yellow hue. Everything at Wheeling was the wrong color. Blue things looked green and yellow things looked orange. It always took your eyes about 15 minutes to adjust. This second door is heavy, like the door to your house. It’s loud and hot inside. Whistles and the shot clock sound. Water splashes out of the pool. Slowly flowing to the drains. Black textured mats lay on the uneven pool deck. Benches line the walls, holding swim bags, towels and parkas. One small rectangular window is adjacent to the door. The diving boards are flipped up on the right with the goal in between them. To the left, the shallow end goal sits in the water.
As my stomach began to churn the humid air hit my face. I was nervous as hell. Today we played Hersey. As I took in all in, Hannah muttered, “Hey! Good luck. Hope you do good but overall you guys loose”. Hannah and I lifeguarded together, she was always nice but her um compliment confused me. Still contemplating her comment, Razor gave us a warm up. I snuck my toe over the edge of the pool. The top layer was always warm from the humid air. Abby rushed up and pushed me in. The rest of the pool was fridge. My teeth chattered as I swam across the pool. When I got to the other side, I looked up at the stands. The stands overlooked the pool from the second floor. A few parents scattered the stands all of whom weren’t mine.
After warm ups Razor gave us a pep talk. “1, 2, 3! Go Knights” I said with my voice shaking. I pushed off the wall and took four strokes to the net. Always four never more, never less. As I start to tread the ref blew the whistle and dropped the ball. We narrowly won the swim off. The first three quarters we go back and forth. First it’s 2–3 Prospect then 5–4 Hersey. Razor called a timeout half way through the fourth quarter. Madison had just gotten kicked out and we were man up. 5 on 6, the odds were in our favor. Megan and Gracie pass back and forth till the Megan throws a perfect pass to Gracie. Gracie treads up and shoots and unstoppable shot. Then we were tied.
For the last three minutes I blocked seven or eight shots. As the big red numbers on the scoreboard clicked down, I felt a sense of relieve. I looked over to the bench with a smile. Hersey would be our biggest competition in the East and we tied. The faces of my teammates quickly changed. As I turn my head back towards the pool, I was too late. The ball came spiraling over my head. Emily, Hersey’s goalie, had made a last second shot from the goal. The buzzer had already rung. I looked at Razor hoping for some reassurance. The refs met to discuss whether or not the goal was before or after the buzzer.
I was devastated when the goal was added to the board. I was literally sinking. My heart was at the bottom of the pool. I dreadfully swam to the side of the pool and hopped out. The hand clap was almost worse as the final goal. The dim yellow light of wheeling now felt like a spotlight. The whole team was still out of breath and sore. It was a hard fought game and I felt I let the whole team down and it was all my fault. After the hand clap, I grabbed my towel and walked out to the foyer. Practically my whole family stood outside with empathetic looks on their faces. I was still dripping wet. I was glad though because maybe it would hide my tears. Mom spoke first saying, “Honey being a goalie is the hardest position, it’s not your fault”. Part of me knew it wasn’t my fault. There were goals earlier in the game, were the defense didn’t get back but I couldn’t help but feel like it was my fault. Gracie came over smiling, “Hey don’t worry, it’s just a game”. I knew it was just a game. It didn’t determine if we went to state and it wouldn’t affect our ranking in the MSL but it felt personal. Hersey was our rival. They played dirty and I wanted to win fair and square. I looked over to the Hersey coach, Pat Mac. Pat Mac was an ass. The summer before he yelled across the pool, “Hey Prospect, stop dicking around and get in the pool!” Coaches shouldn’t talk like that. I wanted to beat his team so badly.
Walking back down the dark hallway, I tried to dry my tears and keep my head up. When I pushed the second door open, it was like opening your front door. It was so recognizable. Wheeling would become my second home. I was there six days a week almost year round. I worked on long passes until my shoulder felt like it was going to fall off. I wanted to be able to score from the goal. I worked to tread faster and lunge farther. Looking back I’m grateful for this game and Pat Mac. It made me work harder and now I’m ready for anything Hersey can throw at me.