The Tapes
It had all started a few weeks ago. Neil, Kevin, Dan, Andrew and Coach Wymack had been looking over tapes that had been sent in from around the country in Wymack’s office. A makeshift reviewing table had been formed out of his desk, papers strewn around and a computer waiting in the center for watching clips. Andrew wasn’t doing much, but the rest of them were working hard to choose who to let on the team.
“There weren’t this many tapes last year,” Coach grumbled, obviously overwhelmed.
“Really? This is about half as many as the Ravens got every year. And besides, last year, you were a joke, people would only send their applications in to you as a failsafe, when they knew that no one else would accept them,” Kevin pointed out.
“Yeah well that was before we became the best team in the league,” Dan had cheerfully retorted.
“No way!” Kevin burst out.
“Well geez Kevin, I know you’re crazy critical and you love the trojans more than you love us but we did win last year,”
“No not that, these kids, they were in the group that found Owen Glendower!” Kevin seemed to have assumed that they all knew who that was.
“Who?” Neil asked.
“Um, he was an old welsh king. His body was rumored to be sailed over from Wales and buried in the Americas after his death. A group of kids found his body, we talked about it in class. It’s actually really fascinati-,”
“Alright, so what we have learned here is that you’re a history nerd,” Dan cut in. “Wait, you said kids? Plural?”
“Um yeah, two kids from Aglionby Academy, I believe it’s an Ivy League prep school in Virginia,”
“And they sent the kids here? I mean we’re a good school, but we’re not exactly Harvard,” Neil interjected.
“Also, from the sounds of it, they’re soft rich kids, they don’t exactly fit our ‘recruiting standards’, they don’t need second chances from us, they can buy their own,” Dan added.
“Dan, I hate to break this to you, but you’re dating a soft rich kid and I had to buy his chance for him,” Andrew pointed out, leaning back in his chair. Dan flushed, but didn’t say anything to refute that point.
“Well, don’t judge a book by it’s cover, let me see their sheets Kevin,” Kevin handed over the two sheets. “Looks like we have a ‘Richard Campbell Gansey the Third’,”
“What kind of pretentious-ass name is-,”
“Dan,” Coach warned
“Wait, Gansey? Like that congresswoman?” Andrew asked.
Coach nodded his confirmation. “He’s her son. Jesus Christ, imagine the size of that inheritance. Okay, and the other one is Adam Parrish,”
“What no middle name or title?” Neil Joked, Dan snickered.
“Watch it, the kid looks like he’s had a real number done on him,” Coach reprimanded, handing over the file, he was right.
It wasn’t that there were any marks on his face (though there was the stray scar near his neck and by his ears) It was the defeated and tired but defiant and satisfied look in his eyes, the challenging jut of his jaw, the fragile look of his cheekbones and delicate eyes. It was the note by the “disabilities” box on the sheet that read “ deaf in right ear”. It was the upward curve of his lips that told Neil that this kid had gone through hell and come out with the Devil’s head on a stick. Adam Parrish looked nothing like Neil Josten but when Neil looked at the picture, he saw himself of looking back.
“Looks kind of like you, huh Neil?” Coach said, as if he had read Neil’s mind
“Really? I don’t see it,” Dan remarked.
Andrew took a long look at Neil, then a long look at the photo. “Neither do I,” He said, sounding to Neil like a petulant child.
“He’s got decent stats,” Kevin noticed, mind always on Exy.
“Let’s see what he’s got,” Coach suggested. Kevin plugged in the flash drive that contained the boy’s tapes. The monitor of the old computer played a video, on it stood Adam Parrish, defensive dealer, standing by him was a formidable looking man, his helmet obscuring most of his face, but the parts that were visible were pure ferocity. His racquet told Neil that he was an offensive dealer, he peeked at Gansey’s file to see what position he played, Striker. The boy standing with Adam was not Gansey. The game on the screen started. The ball spent most of the time on the other side of the court and Neil wondered why this clip had been chosen, until The ball flew towards Parrish. Then he understood exactly why. The other team’s striker was on them in a minute, hissing nasty words that Neil couldn't hear. And it seemed to Neil that Parrish couldn’t either. Instead, he focused his attention on another player. Parrish and the dealer moved around like a unit, wherever one wasn't, the other was. It was like watching a river flowing, or birds in flight (ravens, his head whispered to him, but he shook out the thought) it was like watching poetry in motion. Neil had never seen anything like it.
They moved as one until Adam passed the ball to the dealer and nodded his head, the dealer broke off from the group with a burst of speed and the clip cut off. They watched the other clips and similar skills were shown, always with the same offensive dealer.
The group sat in silence for a long while.
“Wow,” Dan said.
“Okay, now for the other one. Richard Gansey,” Coach selected his clip and waited. This clip opened on Gansey standing, marked by the other team’s backliner. Ready to play. He looked to Neil like a hurricane waiting to happen, the ball went up in the air. Gansey exploded. He caught the ball and carried it all ten paces, his long strides giving him an advantage and carrying him a far distance, the other team's backliner struggled to keep up, cursing at Gansey all the while. Neil couldn't hear anything that was being said, but it was obviously pretty bad because Gansey was not as unreactive as Parrish has been. He instead shot back a short sentence with a smile, the backliner lunged, Gansey dodged before tossing the ball to another player. The offensive dealer from before. They locked eyes for a second that, to Neil, seemed longer than it actually was. Then the dealer took off towards the other side of the court. Confused players stopped what they were doing to watch where he was going.
“What is he doing! He’s running to the wrong side of the court!” Kevin exclaimed
Neil was also confused as to what the strategy was. Then when the dealer got to the boundary of his domain, he swung his racket and rocketed the ball over the heads of the other confused players. It had been a distraction. No one would notice the striker creeping closer to the goal if a player was running the wrong way. Only one racket reached up to catch it, Gansey’s. The ball flew into the net of the racket and then shot out towards the goal, lightning fast. The goalie never stood a chance. The clip cut out after the ball had hit the plexiglass behind the goal. Coach clicked the next one, these all seemed to feature clever and strategic plays. Neil wondered if Gansey has come up with them. They finished watching all the clips.
“We need them,” Dan said.
“No,” Kevin said
“What? Kevin, did you see that? How can you say that?”
“Dan, those kids were amazing, but you saw the tapes, to get them, we need that dealer, and he didn't send in an application,” Kevin explained.
“We’ve gotten people without applications before, and besides, we need another offensive dealer to qualify,” Dan pointed out.
Andrew said nothing, but nodded his head.
“So, then we get the dealer. It shouldn't be that hard,” Coach said.
“Okay then,”Neil agreed. And that was that.