Across the elementary-school playground, Francesco dribbled the football between painted lines. He flicked it over a bench and raced beneath its spinning arc. CLANG! The ball struck the metal fence. “Champion shot!” he shouted, chasing it toward the field.
The football smacked the fence again with a ringing CLANG. Francesco skidded to a stop, then darted after it as it bounced toward the grassy field. His shoes scattered little stones across the path. He thought, “That shot needs a bigger target.”
Beside the school wall, Francesco practiced a feint, a quick turn, and a powerful kick. The first ball rolled under a bench. The second bumped a flowerpot. The third spun away like a runaway wheel. He retrieved each one and tried again.
At the local football field, Francesco arranged orange cones in a straight row. He whispered, “One more time,” and nudged the ball toward the first gap. Wind swept across the grass. Suddenly, the cones tumbled like orange hats, bouncing and rolling in every direction.
Francesco laughed, gathered the cones, and set them upright. He began again, stepping left, snapping right, and slipping through the gaps. One cone wobbled but stayed standing. “One more time,” he whispered, placing the ball carefully before the first cone.
Francesco charged toward the goal and struck the football with every practiced move. THWACK! It hit the crossbar and sprang upward. The ball landed on the nearby equipment shed roof. Francesco stared at it, then searched for a safe way to climb.
Carefully, Francesco climbed the sturdy shed ladder, keeping one hand on the rail. He reached across the roof and tucked the football under his arm. Then he climbed down slowly and launched it back onto the grass. It bounced once, twice, and stopped.
Francesco placed the football at the field’s edge and faced the cones. He guided it left, right, left, right, never touching one. The ball rolled toward the open net. Francesco followed, ready for the final kick.