"That's true." They should consult the most important person involved. Ken kneels so he is on Wormmon's level. "What do you think, Wormmon? Do you want to guard the goal or pass the ball?"

"I'll pass the ball!" Wormmon takes a few scoots backwards, a fierce expression on his face. "If I can't touch it with my limbs, I'll do - this!"

And he jumps forward, claws spread, as if he's going to butt the ball with his mandibles. "Or this!"

He waggles his spinnerets, miming whacking the ball. PERFECT PLAN.