More Than a Game | Mason Mount

Epilogue

My knees shook with anticipation as I stood in the Stamford Bridge tunnel. The crowd noise ahead of me amplified with each passing second, growing into a resounding roar that only forced more adrenalin through my body. Playing in front of larger crowds and foreign fans and our biggest rivals was special, sure, but there was something extra special about Champions League nights at the Bridge. 

There was also something about today – about this game – that had a different feel to it. Maybe because of how our last game against Ajax ended. Maybe because this was my first start in a home European game for so long. Maybe because we needed to prove we were better than a draw against Spurs made us out to be. 

Or maybe because of the opposition stood in the tunnel beside me. I may have faced Luka Savic just days before, but that Beck had no idea what the future had in store for her. That rainy night in Amsterdam, I could have never imagined that come a fortnight later, things would be so startlingly different. Back then, I assumed Mason still had a girlfriend. Back then, my wrist functioned perfectly. Back then, I hadn't acknowledged the fear that still clung to my subconscious because of one tackle. 

That one tackle... 

It had played on my mind more than usual leading up to this match. I couldn't help but wonder how different things could have been without it. Would we have beaten Croatia? Would we have won the whole tournament? Or were we always destined to crash out at the last hurdle? 

But more than just the World Cup, I had to wonder if things with Mason would have turned out differently, too. Would we still have drifted apart as the months went by? Would we have remained just friends? Or were we always destined to become something much more? 

On cue, Mason's hands squeezed my shoulders. Shivers ran down my spine at his touch in the same way they had been since our talk in the rain. In many ways, it felt as if weeks had passed since that moment. The terror that had absorbed my mind then lessened with every smile Mason gave me, or every reassuring glance he threw my way, or every kiss he pressed against my lips. 

But part of it remained. It sprung up sporadically, jumping out and shouting at me when I least expected it. When I laid my head on Mason's shoulder in the bus. When Frank saw us arriving at training in the same car. When I finally went for dinner with Mason and Pippa. 

I knew there would come a day when none of it lingered, though, when I'd be able to walk into Cobham hand-in-hand with Mason, when we'd be able to go on a date with no hesitation, when we'd be able to shout from the hilltops that we were dating. But, I guess just as the Beck of two weeks ago, my future remained shrouded with uncertainties. 

The Liquidator banished all thoughts from my mind as it echoed through the tunnel. Mason released my shoulders. A little mascot grabbed my hand. I strode out onto the pitch, head held high, a smile breaking out onto my face. Energy and nervousness and exhilaration and pride rushed though my body all at once as I took in my surroundings.

No voice nagged the back of my mind; no pain niggled my knee. A calm confidence settled over me, a readiness for this game like I'd never felt before.

At least I knew one thing for certain: as long as this feeling existed, I'd be okay. As long as my body allowed me to play, and my teammates stood at my side, and my manager backed me, and this crazy game that we called football existed, everything would be okay. 

This game that dragged me through the lowest of lows, and pulled me back up to heavenly heights. This game that brought me more pain than I could imagine, but gave me more joy than I could wish for. This game that broke my body – broke my soul at times – but built me up stronger and surer. This game that gave me friendships, and rivals, and potentially my first proper love. 

The Champions League anthem rang out through the stadium. It filled my ears and my head and eventually my whole body, until every nerve inside me fizzed to life. 

This game, which is so much more than a game.