49 pages • 1 hour read
Sarah DeLappeA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
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#11 is 17 and described as “brainy, morbid, [a] budding elitist, [and] thoughtful” (11). She plays the position of midfielder, which requires taking on a variety of roles throughout the game, vacillating between defense and offense, intercepting the ball from the opposing team, and often scoring goals or passing the ball to teammates so they can score goals. This versatility appears in #11’s personality in her ability to see both sides of an argument from a neutral stance. For instance, #11 leads the debate about whether the aging Cambodian war criminal in his 90s ought to face justice for participating in genocide in the 1970s.
She mentions the complexity of someone committing atrocities while believing their actions aren’t atrocities but necessary for the good of their country, which is more open-minded but perhaps more dispassionate than her teammates’ arguments. #11 is educated and informed, and she corrects the other girls’ misinformation, although they rarely bother to apply her corrections. However, #11 does defer to #00 as being even smarter and more academically accomplished. #11’s parents are both therapists, which perhaps explains her tendency toward analysis over emotion. She mentions the “tyranny of Sunday night dinners” (100), implying she has a stable home life with regular traditions. #11 expresses a desire to have dual citizenship, suggesting her desire to travel and see the world and to live in another unspecified country.
#11 likes to gossip, along with the rest of the girls, and she is often the one to bring rumors to chatter about with the team. She is fascinated with death, excitedly telling the others about a website that reports whether someone has died in a particular house. However, when #14 dies, #11 is just as much at a loss as the other girls as to how to comprehend her feelings, and she just wants the comfort and support of a dad rather than the therapizing and analysis her dad seems to be offering. She is a round character and dynamic.
As the captain of the team, #25 displays leadership abilities beyond her 17 years. The other girls joke that she sometimes sounds like her father, who was their coach but seems to have lost the position after an incident that involved punching a referee. Their current coach is ineffectual, and #25 takes up the mantle and manages all aspects of the team on and off the field, including conflicts and decorum. #25 plays defense, which means her job is to protect the goalkeeper and block the other teams’ shots from becoming goals. The position doesn’t include the spectacle of goal-scoring, which perhaps makes her easy to overlook on the field.
When the recruiter wants to speak to #46, #14, and #00, #8 expresses surprise that #25 wasn’t included, since she’s a great player and pushes herself. Alongside #25’s confidence as captain is her lack of confidence about her personal life. She has become close to a new girl at school named Louise Peterson, but the others think Louise is strange. Although neither of the girls’ sexualities are mentioned, the play hints that they might be more than friends. At the play’s end, #25 makes the bold move of shaving her head, rebelling against the usual norms of feminine gender roles and identity. Whereas the girls earlier teased #25 for her budding friendship with Louise, their perspective changes, and they’re far more supportive. Louise helps #25 parse her grief, having had the traumatic experience of finding her brother’s body after he died, presumably by death by suicide. By shaving her head and openly acknowledging Louise as her friend, #25 seems to be coping with grief by living her life and making choices for herself that she might have been afraid to make before. She is also round and dynamic.
Sarah DeLappe describes #13 as a “stoner […who is] into her wackiness” (11). At 16, she has at least another year of high school before she will be scouted by recruiters, and she is largely laid-back during pre-game warm-ups, always ready to tease her teammates and joke. No one is immune from #13’s ribbing, but she does back down and recognize when she has gone too far. For instance, when #13 teases #8 by saying #8 is rooting for their former coach’s mother to die of cancer, #8 starts to get upset. When #13 realizes this and remembers that (as is implied, not directly stated) #8’s mother most likely died of cancer, #13 apologizes profusely, continuing to take it back even after #8 dubiously insists she’s fine.
As a midfielder, #13 must be far less relaxed on the field than she is at practice, since midfield is a highly active position. At the end of the play, #13 reveals she hasn’t been sleeping since #14’s death and that she has asthma, which has been triggered lately. She has an outburst that shows she’s angry at #14 for going running so early in the morning when it had snowed.
The newest and perhaps most talented member of the team, #46 is also an outsider, trying to fit in but struggling to. She spends most of the play on the bench, despite her apparent versatility and advanced abilities. Later in the play, when the other girls finally acknowledge her as a teammate, she explains she travels constantly with her mother, a travel writer. In every new community, there were kids playing soccer, and she could make friends. But now that she is here for the foreseeable future due to a sick relative, joining a team for the first time has ironically made it difficult for her to make friends. #25 won’t let her play; it would mean displacing one of the others on the team. To the other girls, #46 is odd.
First, her simply showing up to join their well-established team is strange to them. #46 attempts to join the conversation with relevant information that ought to pique their interest; she has actually lived in Cambodia, but no one pays attention to this. She tries to follow their lead and make off-color, gossipy jokes, but somehow she hits a nerve. She overhears their gossip about her and merely corrects their misunderstanding that she lives in a “yogurt,” always feigning good humor to cover the hurt. She is close to tears when the orange slice ritual occurs, unable to comprehend this staple of American youth soccer teams, and is told to just join in. But #46 grows more comfortable with her own sense of individuality, even performing a dribble while rapping. With #7’s injury, #46 becomes a regular player, and the others are amazed at her abilities. It seems as if she might finally become accepted as a Wolf after all. She takes over as striker, which tends to be the flashiest goal-scoring position. But without #7’s cockiness, #46 still shows off, executing a bicycle kick that catches the attention of a recruiter. She is round and shows dynamism, especially at the play’s end.
At the beginning of the play, #2 starts the conversation about playing on her period, concerned her pad might fall out of her shorts or that blood might leak down her leg. #2 is 16, is “innocent, unlucky, [and] skinny” but also “kind” (11). She is also sheltered by her overprotective, the play suggests, religious parents, which is why she refuses to try a tampon when offered, even as she is about to cry about her pad possibly causing embarrassment. Her mother forces her to wear head guards and takes her to the ER for frequent CAT scans over nosebleeds or normal soccer moves like headers. Her family doesn’t own a television, and her understanding of morality is very black-and-white. For instance, she doesn’t contribute to the conversation about the Cambodian. She makes scarves to sell to make money for the immigrant children detained at the border, but she doesn’t think critically about the fundraising and whether she is doing good as well as feeling good (or that the children are not all Mexican). #2 feels empathy for the children, but she also wonders if anyone is reading to them, suggesting she doesn’t fully grasp their terrible conditions.
#2 also mentions she and #14 used to be best friends. Although she doesn’t explain what drew them apart, it seems likely #14 became more enamored with #7, who would have undoubtedly made #2 uncomfortable with her interest in mature activities like sex and drinking. #2 gives the benefit of the doubt to authority figures in her own life, categorizing Coach Frank’s anger management concerns as just meaning he “cares a lot” (55) or suggesting Coach Neil is probably “just sleepy” (33). #2 is also uncomfortable gossiping about others behind their backs. After #46 overhears the others talking about her, #2 awkwardly tries to make up for it with kindness. #2 plays defense, which aligns with her personality as she is essentially never on the offense. At the end of the play, when the girls are feeling #25’s shaved head with awe, #2 comments she might shave hers. This signifies a major change for #2, a constant rule-follower, even if she doesn’t follow through.
Much of the drama in the play originates with #7, who has a large personality, curses freely, and doesn’t censor herself, even when she’s called out for being offensive. At 16-turning-17, #7 is “too cool for school” and “sarcastic” with “thick eyeliner” (11). #7 plays striker. Strikers score goals, a characteristic that aligns with #7’s aggressive confidence. On the opposite end of the spectrum from #2, #7 seems to have loose parental oversight, as evidenced by her planned birthday celebration with her college boyfriend, #14, and another unknown college boy, un-chaperoned at her dad’s liquor-stocked ski cabin. Although #7 is a junior, and therefore one of the younger girls on the team, she seems to be the only one who is sexually active, or at least she is the only one who talks about it. The gossip around the team is that #7 had an abortion two months before the start of the play. But #13 and later #7 herself refute this rumor by clarifying it was only Plan B.
#7 often drives her teammates toward the level of maturity she thinks they should have reached, such as pushing #2 to use tampons. When the other girls discuss the children incarcerated at the border, #7 brashly and angrily demonstrates a legitimate knowledge of the oppression happening there as well as why it’s happening within the current political system. Her outburst is surprising and shows a depth to her character beyond rebelliousness. Although, notably, she denies being a feminist when #8 teases her by calling her one.
When the orange slices come out, she also shows she can be playful and enjoy something childish with her friends. But #7 also lies to the other girls about her birthday, for which she is apparently veering from tradition—a team sleepover—for the first time this year, which seems to be a step toward adulthood. But during the game on her birthday weekend, #25 starts #46 as striker, a hit to #7’s ego. Then, #7 tears her ACL, derailing her future as a soccer player. On her birthday, #7 fractures her friendship with #14 by expecting her to have oral sex with a boy she just met with no regard for her consent, and, presumably, #14 dies before they can reconcile. #7’s name is revealed to be Alex, which makes her appear vulnerable for the first time in the play. She shows roundness and much dynamism.
#14 is 16 and #7’s best friend, although DeLappe describes her as “#7’s insecure sidekick” (11). #14 plays midfield, and she is one of three players singled out by the Texas A&M recruiter, suggesting she is a standout player, even if much of her character development involves following #7. She even once inexplicably joins #7’s punishment by running laps with her. She constantly plays off #7’s quips to the other girls, such as the conversation about Cambodia, when #7 knows about the Khmer Rouge and #14 admits to her that she doesn’t. But when #46 tries to join in by mentioning Harry Potter, #14 attacks her with a speech about the minimal knowledge she just learned (including the error that billions of people were killed). In the first scene, #14 is the one who brings the cold that runs through the rest of the group, although—like everyone else throughout the play— she denies being sick.
#14’s father is Armenian, and her mother is American, which comes up when the others are talking about Central American children detained at the border. #8 offensively assumed she is Mexican and had to learn English when she immigrated at four, but #14 already spoke English. This leads to an awkward moment of the others grilling #14 until #7 yells at them, earning laps from #25. On #7’s birthday weekend, #14 makes jokes about skinny-dipping, suggesting she is ready to act as adult as #7. But when #7 mentions a second college boy will be there, #14 becomes anxious.
In the next scene, #14 is angry at #7 for leaving her alone with a strange boy who expected her to do sexual things with him. She turns against #7, bragging on #46’s behalf as to how well #46 played in #7’s place. The scene ends with a screaming fight between #7 and #14, with no indication as to whether they speak again. #14 dies while on an early-morning jog, suggesting her commitment to the team and her conditioning. Afterward, her mother reveals #14’s real name is Megan.
#8 is 16, which makes her one of the younger members of the team. Described as “childlike and determined to stay that way” (11), #8 commits to maintaining her childhood, but this is in contrast to #2’s personality. First, she supports the use of tampons, although she expresses displeasure with #7’s idea of a menstrual blood-soaked ball. The text suggests #8’s childlikeness could be in her rose-colored outlook. For instance, she remembers the previous year, when the Showcase was played in Las Vegas. Afterward, the team went to the resort/casino Circus Circus, and #8 remembers seeing elephants. No one else remembers elephants, and, historically, the last time Circus Circus had live animals was long before the girls’ lifetimes, but #8 is insistent about her memory. She tends to turn unpleasant conversations (like those about genocide or atrocities) to things that make her happy. When talking about immigrant children at the border, #8 goes on a tangent about reading to her brother.
But while the other girls tease #8 by claiming that wanting Coach Neil to return is the same as wanting his mother to die of cancer, #8 becomes upset. It’s implied #8’s mother died of cancer, which perhaps explains her commitment to her own arrested development. #8 refuses to admit she is upset, quickly changing the subject. #8 plays defense, which correlates with her efforts to block anything she finds unpleasant. In the last scene, she deflects from #14’s death, complaining about her acne and bursting into tears about the location of nationals. She also can’t stop looking at the orange peel photo, suggesting she has developed an ability to hold onto and revisit the past.
As the goalie, #00 is “intense,” full of “performance anxiety, [a] perfectionist, [and a] high achiever” (11). By all accounts, #00 is an excellent goalie. Even more, she is very smart and accomplished as a student. #11, who seems to be the team’s intellectual as evidenced by her contributions (and often corrections) in discussions about world issues, readily credits #00 as the team’s resident genius. #11 calls her “super high functioning” (63), which may or may not be meant to refer to the autism spectrum. #00 has a 4.9 GPA, she is the editor of the East Gazette (for which #11 writes as a columnist), she plays saxophone for the State Youth Orchestra, and she runs the Model UN. But most of these accomplishments remain unexpressed throughout the play, because #00 rarely opens her mouth to speak. Whether this is due to her level of focus before a game or her severe social anxiety, #00 comes across as the strong, silent type, communicating largely through facial expressions and nods.
Before every game, like clockwork, #00 also rushes off to vomit; because of its regularity, her teammates pay little attention to this. When #00 does speak, it’s usually one-on-one and to voice something that needed to be said. She tells #46 about #7’s rumored abortion rather than leaving the girl confused about what she did wrong, adding that Nuon Chea deserves punishment, revealing a direct and certain sense of morality. #00 seems to like #46, surprising the others by humming her yurt rap and calling it “catchy” (88). But #00’s significant moment of change occurs in “Time Out,” when she is alone in the gym and unleashes her anger and sadness, kicking balls, crying, and finally screaming. After this, her perspective seems to have changed. She is no longer as stoic or anxious. #00 demonstrates considerable roundness and dynamism, despite her minimal speaking parts.
Like the other characters in the play, the Soccer Mom is only named for her relation to the team. She is the same soccer mom who brought orange slices in Week Two, but now everyone is aware she is no longer a mother. She also stands out as the only onstage adult character in the play, addressing a team that has been run without adult intervention. When the Soccer Mom enters to speak to the team, she is “manic with grief” and seems to have come to give the girls an encouraging talk (170). But her speech is rambling and impossible to follow. The only clear expression of her oration is her indescribable shock and pain.
The Soccer Mom gives #14’s name, Megan, which emphasizes how #14 was much more than #14—to her mother, her teammates, and everyone else who cared about her. She manages to express a convoluted pep talk at the end before exclaiming she forgot something and rushing off. She brings back a bag of orange slices, a callback to when #14 brings them to the team the first time. The text suggests the oranges are a gift in Megan’s memory. The Soccer Mom demonstrates roundness but, appearing only at the play’s end, is static.