"Coach Anderson?"
Coach put down the letter he'd been reading -- yet another denial of his requests for new equipment -- and sighed. "What is it, Orenthor?"
"There's a girl out here who wants to see you."
"Tell her she'll have to come back later," Coach said, glancing at the clock. "Practice is gonna start in a few minutes."
"She said that's why she's here," said Orenthor. "She said you told her to come."
Coach leaned over in his desk chair, trying to see past Orenthor out the door.
<<It's Theoden's niece,>> Coach realized, spotting the girl waiting patiently outside his office, her hair pulled back in a neat ponytail. When Eomer had brought her in last week, Coach just hadn't felt like dealing with her then so he'd told her to come back for the first practice. <<But I never expected she'd actually SHOW. I guess I'd hoped....>>
He wasn't sure what he'd hoped. That she'd pledge a sorority? That she'd be overwhelmed by homework? That she'd find some other extra-curricular activity to keep her busy? Anything that would've prevented her from showing up today.
Yet here she was. And he was going to have to deal with her sooner or later.
"Send her in," Coach said, standing up and starting to gather things for practice.
"Good afternoon, Coach Anderson," the girl said as she entered the crowded office.
"Eowid, isn't it?" he said, not even stopping to shake the hand she proffered.
"EoWYN," she corrected. "You...you told me to come to the first practice."
Coach sighed. <<This is the last thing I need today.>> "C'mon, then," he said, holding the office door open for her as he balanced his clipboards in his arms.
They walked to the practice room where Orenthor and the others were getting the equipment out. It was strange to see them all in their regular clothes, tanned and buff after their summers in the sun.
"Bad news, guys," he said to the loosely assembled team. "The administration has decided that, due to budget cuts, we won't be getting any new equipment again this year."
This news was met with assorted groans.
"But isn't the rugby team getting all new uniforms?" Haven asked.
"Of course," Aeslech said. "The rugby team ALWAYS gets what they want."
<<It's true -- new uniforms, new equipment, a new field. I should've coached rugby!>>
"But how about our new practice room, Coach?" Calimir asked.
"Nope," said Coach, trying to keep the bitterness from his voice. "It looks like we're stuck here in the dungeon for awhile," he said, gesturing around the windowless basement room with the carefully taped outlines of the strip on the floor.
The groaning began again, and Coach realized that the only way to build morale was to build a good team. And that meant PRACTICE.
"Okay, men," Coach said, laying his clipboards on the ground and clapping his hands to bring the team to order. "I know it's been a long summer, but we need to get back to work. We've got a tough season ahead of us, and we've got to work hard to succeed." He glanced at the few newbies who were standing around awkwardly and added, "I'd especially like to extend a special welcome to the new freshmen on the team -- we're glad to have you." He glanced at Eowyn, still not sure what to do with her, and it distracted him from his planned speech, causing him to stammer, "It's...uh...it's a new year, so...so we should begin with what I expect out of each and every one of you."
Coach then launched into his standard spiel, covering everything from practice clothes (whites were required at every practice after the first one) to standards of behaviour (attendance at practice was mandatory, despite what certain hotshot sophomores thought). When he'd covered everything he thought was necessary to instill in his team, he clapped his hands together twice. "So let's get started. We'll begin with footwork. Let's have everyone line up along the wall, facing me, in the basic fencing stance."
As the team shuffled into position, Eowyn came up and asked, "Should I go ahead and practice with everyone?"
Coach sighed. "You might as well," he said. <<I can watch her as she practices and maybe come up with an excuse why she can't stay.>>
Eowyn took a place at the end of the line and, glancing first at the others, assumed the stance as Coach started calling out combinations:
"Advance, advance, retreat, advance, lunge, retreat, lunge, advance...."
Coach noticed that, at first, the girl watched the others, copying their movements. But once she understood what was being asked, she faced forward, concentrating hard on her footwork.
Eventually, after sufficient practice, Coach went on to calling out parries and ripostes. But the entire time that he was watching and giving advice to others he was really scrutinizing the girl. <<She's never been trained,>> he realized as she repeated her strategy of watching the others until she understood the words. <<Yet she's really good. She has a natural talent, a natural instinct for the steps, and her concentration is intense.>>
<<So what on middle earth can I do to get rid of her?>>
Coach sighed. It was bad enough that a girl wanted to be on the team, but why'd it have to be THIS girl? If Theoden wanted to bow to the administration's wishes and allow all races on the polo team, then that was HIS prerogative. <<But it's no reason to sic his niece on ME.>> For Coach was determined not to be so lily-livered. Allowing a girl on his team would open up a can of worms that he simply didn't want released.
But while the girl had seemed polite and almost timid when he'd talked to her, her demeanor on the strip was intense and determined, revealing a hidden strength. She swung her sabre as if her very honour were at stake, as if she were fighting for her life.
He'd also seen her article in the paper last week. <<Those reporter types are always tough as nails.>>
<<And any girl who goes out for a boys' team has got balls. And that's the last thing I need -- a gifted fencer with great skills and an attitude problem.>>
<<'Cuz I've already got one of those.>>
A smile started to spread across Coach's face as the thought struck him. And as the idea began to coalesce, he realized it was the perfect way to get rid of her, once and for all.
"Eowid," he called to her as the fencers practiced their attacks and counterattacks. "Come see me after practice."
The girl nodded and then instantly returned her attention to her attacks, a glint of ferocity shining in her big blue eyes. Coach watched as she thrust her sabre, thankful that he would avoid sparring with her.
<<He's just what she needs,>> he thought smugly, <<and vice versa. They both need to be taken down a few pegs.>>
And when practice finally ended, Coach had his little speech all prepared.
"You wanted to see me?" Eowyn asked, wiping the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand.
"Yes," he said. "As you know, Eowid, this fencing team is for boys only--"
"But it's not fair. I'm just as--" Eowyn began, but Coach put up a hand to stop her.
"Let me finish. The team is for boys only; however, you do have talent. So here's what I'm proposing. Tomorrow you will spar with Strider."
"Strider?"
Coach nodded, smiling at his plan. "He's not here today, but he was our freshman who fenced sabre last year. You'll spar with him, and if you win, you can be on the team, even though you're a girl."
The girl furrowed her brow as she considered this, and Coach held his breath, expecting her to protest. After all, an incoming freshman who'd clearly had no formal training sparring against ANY sophomore wouldn't be fair. But she had no way of knowing that Strider was possibly the best fencer MEU had EVER had. He would definitely beat her, and then, her ego crushed, she would crawl away, thankful that she still had a few scraps of dignity left.
<<And if Strider takes a few hits from the girl, it might do HIS ego some good as well.>>
But Eowyn didn't protest. Instead, she eventually nodded. "If I win, I'm on the team. No matter what."
Coach nodded. "Absolutely. I'm not a man to go back on his word."
Eowyn smiled. "Then I guess I'll see you tomorrow."
As she started to walk away, Coach called after her, "And you'll need to find some whites -- no one spars without them."
Eowyn nodded and left.
<<If only Strider will actually SHOW for practice tomorrow, then all my problems will be over,>> Coach thought with grim satisfaction as he picked up his clipboards and headed back to his office.
***
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