Hope you like it!!! U MUST REVIEW!!!!! No buts!

---by the way, Sam is a freshman

I LOVE YOU GUYS AS MUCH AS A LOVE MY PET FISH FLUFFY!!!!!!!!

P.S- I do not have a fish =0

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"Great job Sam, keep it up!" Sam felt a smile appear on his face at the words of praise. No, it was not his father, nor Dean, but it was the next best thing. His coach.

Coach Berkin was great at what he did, and that was being a soccer coach. Sam was, by far, the best player on the team. He was only fifteen, while the rest of the team was at least 16, mostly 17. Pride swelled inside of him. Though Dean and his dad weren't cheering him on in the stands, which hurt like never before, he at least felt some ecstasy in his coach watching him. This and school were the only two things he was actually good at. He couldn't hunt. Dad had pretty much said so himself. Goddamn it Sam, if you screw up a hunt one more time I swear…

Sam already knew what would probably end up happening. They would hate him, disown him on the spot. He knew that. The only thing they needed him for was hunting, which he usually failed at. All that left him with was researching. That he was good at, but he did not see that as a superior quality, unlike his father and brother. His priorities have always been about grades and soccer, which absolutely blew his father away. The only thing John wants to do is find the demon that killed his wife, Sam's mom.

In Sam's eyes, he didn't care about anything else. All the people they had saved in the past were nothing in John Winchester's eyes. He just saved them and got the hell out, considering it a missionfailure.

Sam continued scoring goals all throughout the game, not taking any time in resting. He felt the adrenaline course threw his body as he played man-to-man on one of his opponents, stealing the ball from out between, his legs, and dribbled toward the goal.

Sam could do this for a living. Playing soccer and being at school was what he lived to do. His father, for that matter, nor would his brother, approve of such a "low standard" for him. He was to continue hunting until he held a cane in his elderly hand or dropped dead.

Sam scored again, the score now 14-0. The game had 8 seconds left, not even close to being long enough for the other team to catch up. Sam felt happy, proud, that he had actually made 11 out of the 14 points. Sam dribbled a ball between a guy's legs and ran for the goal again. He had gotten about half way when the buzzer went off, ending the game. Sam stopped running, and slowed down to a halt, breathing heavily.

He, with the rest of his teammates, ran to their coach, huddling around him.

"Good job, team. You all did great. I'm proud of all of you." Coach Berkin said their next practice would be this Saturday at 8:30, ending around noon. Sam's smile lessened, until that was left was a small frown, realizing he and his family would be hunting all this weekend.

He sighed. He was missing yet another practice.

Sam waited until all his teammates dispersed, running off to their loved ones. Sam looked over at Coach Berkin. The look on Sam's face must have shown something, because Coach Berkin did not look too happy.

"Sir,-"

"Can't go to practice?" Coach Berkin pulled his arms over his chest, eyeing Sam carefully.

"Well, sir. I have this…thing I'm going to with my parents. I'm sorry, Coach, but I won't be able to make it." Sam's heart ached slightly at the look of disappointment on his face.

"All right Winchester, I understand." Coach said, pausing before he continued. "You do realize you have missed all but one practice, don't you?"

"Yes, sir, and I'm really-"

"Son, I don't think I can let you play." Sam's mouth hung open. He felt a headache coming on.

"Sir, you can't mean that..."

Soccer was his life. He couldn't just stop. Coach Berkin looked at him, pondering thoughtfully.

"Look, if you go to this next practice, I won't cut you. But, it's just not fair to all your teammates. They have been working so hard, while you go off doing god-knows-what during every practice, yet come to every game. Sam, if I didn't know you I'd think you're doing it on purpose." Coach Berkin sighed heavily, wiped his hand over his face. His age was starting to show. "I'll make you a deal. You come to practice, you play. You don't come to practice, I'm cutting you."

Sam felt like he was going to cry. Getting cut from the team would be life-changing. But Coach Berkin was right; it wasn't fair to his team. He got to play during the whole game every game, depriving some of the hard workers of playing. He felt sympathy for them as he realized how miserable they would feel. It was his fault.

Sam nodded to Coach Berkin, letting a sad smile grace his lips. "I'll try, sir. I'll try."

Sam walked toward the hotel after the soccer game, not feeling nearly as happy as he did during the game. He walked through a small alley, no light shining through to light his path.

Sam continued down the path, walking aimlessly in the motel's general direction, too sad to realize that, all the while, he was being watched.

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REALLY hope you liked it!!! I shall update soon. I really hate it when it takes the author a month for each update so, don't worry, I won't do that!! However, it may be hard updating for the next few days because I have exams next week.

REVIEW OR BEWARE THE WRATH OF THE FINGER!!!!!!!!