Hope Frazier watched the opposing team’s outside midfielder closely. The young woman tended to overplay her side of the field, leaving the defender behind her exposed. Hope’s own player, marking back closely, didn’t yet see the way she could use the risks taken by her opposite number to create a counterattack of her own. Hope paced a small ways down the sideline, thought for a moment about making a substitution, then decided against it. She removed a small pad of paper from her back pocket, seized a stub of pencil from her jacket, and made a quick notation. Something to mention in training, she thought. Behind her, she heard a murmur from the girls on the bench; they were accustomed to seeing the notebook come whipping out. Sometimes this meant praise, other times it turned into laps after the next day’s practice. Hope turned to the girls.

“Does anyone see what I see?”

There was a momentary hesitation. High school girls, she thought. One second, all bravado. The next, all timidity. One girl raised her hand.

“Okay, Molly. What?”

Molly stood up and pointed at the outside midfielder. “She’s causing us all sorts of problems on the right, but we can take advantage of her recklessness…”

Hope clapped her hands. “Absolutely!” She saw the other girls smile. No laps tomorrow. “Okay, Molly, warm up and go into the game. Go in for Sarah in the center, get the ball under control, and start something in that space.” Hope went over and sat in Molly’s spot on the bench.

“See the field, ladies,” she said quietly. “See the big picture. The game isn’t always about the ball at your feet, it’s about space, time, patience, and passion. It’s like chess. Turn a disadvantage into a strength.”