This is the game plan: Line up the Durst quadruplets, let the identical 10-year-old girls charge down the soccer field, then watch the confused looks of their dumbfounded opponents.
"Have you ever seen them play?" asks their community education coach, Don Freiborg. "They go full-speed."
"Uh, coach," interrupts one of the girls, "Sarah doesn't want to play offense. She wants to play goalie."
Freiborg looks at the goal to see a tiny whirlwind bouncing in her kid-size 13 1/2 basketball shoes, her face a sea of freckles, her auburn hair spotted in a rainbow of colors after a trip to a salon for highlighting as part of Wacky Hair Day.
Ten minutes into the game, Freiborg notices another quad on the sidelines. "Kendra, what are you doing out?" he asks.
"I'm Calli, Coach."
Another comes off the field, asking for rest.
"Who are you?" Freiborg asks, scrambling for a clipboard with the quads' names and corresponding numbers.