"Things Amiss" by Joel H

Something about this place just isn’t right. I had recently been picked up by one of the best
soccer teams in the nation but I couldn’t help but notice that something was terribly amiss. First
of all, why doesn’t this team have a bench? How do we replace players throughout the game if
we have no extra players? There can only be eleven players on the field at once and we had
just that number. We were numbered one through eleven and I was named eleven. I thought
little of it reminding myself that this team is somehow one of the best.

As a week of practice went by I noticed that more things than one were definitely amiss here.
The air is just too tense. The players don’t trust each other and practice seems more like a
competition if anything. We don’t even talk. It’s like we’re practicing individually on our own.
There’s this odd feeling that flies around and it doesn’t help that we address each other by our
numbers and not our names. Unsettling and a bit eerie. But this team is surely one of the best
so I thought it best to not question.

The first game of the season was coming up and the cutthroat atmosphere never really went
away. In fact, the night before my first game the coach approached me as kind of a consolation.
“Hey eleven, I’m sure you’ve noticed that we do things a bit differently here” he said. “But don’t
worry, just work on yourself and make sure you perform well.”
“Thanks coach i’ll make sure to”my words were cut off by three who had just walked into the
room. He hadn’t said a word but his gaze made me incredibly uneasy. He carried an intense
ambience that had me at a loss for words. Everyone on the team is the same way.

The coach laughed and turned to three “Stop scaring the new guy, he’s about to play his first
game” said coach. Three slightly smirked and wordlessly left the room.

Coach tightly gripped my right shoulder. “Well anyway” said coach with a wide grin. “Perform at
your best and you’ll turn out just fine.” He left the room and I sat alone in my thoughts.
Was that supposed to be a consolation?

The next day my nerves came crashing down but I was determined to do well. The game
progressed and I was able to see why the team was considered one of the best with little
teamwork. Besides the basics like passing and positioning, we had little communication but raw
talent really carried the team through.

By halftime we were up three to one and everyone had done well. Everyone but eight. He was
visibly shaken. I could understand because he, as a defender, had let one too many balls past
him. However I couldn’t understand why he seemed so absolutely terrified of his mistakes.
He looked so concerned that I felt the need to say something. “Hey eight, don’t worry about it
too much” I said “It’s only a game”.


He glanced back at me and said, “you don’t understand eleven.”

By the end of the game we had won five to two and I was excited that I had done well my first
game. The team headed for the locker room and I noticed that eight was dragging his feet way
behind everyone else. He was probably just upset because he had performed considerably
worse than the rest of us. I thought little of it and celebrated with the other guys who seemed to
be talking more than usual.

Eventually eight arrived to the locker room and turned to us. “Do you guys think my kids saw the
game on T.V.?” he said, glancing at each of us. “I can’t wait to see my wife!”
One walked over to him with a serious look and grabbed him from behind. Eight began to cry.
“I’m sorry” he sobbed. “It won’t happen ever again.”

Three pulled out a sharpened knife, walked over, and sank it into eight’s heart. “No,” said three
with a slight smirk. “It won’t.”

Coach looked over at my horrified face and said, “After every game we dispose of the weakest
performing player”. He laughed and exclaimed “The extra motivation really helps, you know?”
Something about this place just isn’t right.