La Reina | The Story of Melanie Kavitz

prodigy

I showed them.

No matter the drill, I showed them.

Passing. Dribbling. Duels. Shooting. Distance-shooting. Finishing. Speed. All of it. I showed them all.

From the get-go, none of the thirty-two players took it easy on me. Why would they; their goal was to get me off of the field as quickly as possible so they could resume to their actual training session. I couldn't blame them, of course. But that impression wasn't something I was going to leave them with. Especially given the fact that I hadn't been the one to curate it.

I proved myself to be able to not just keep up with their speed while running laps, I was able to overtake them. I was able to keep the ball glued to my feet through long-distances, proving my ability and ball control. Being able to shoot the ball over various distances to several players showcased my ability to pass, and pass accurately.

Within the first hour, the men on the field realized I wasn't here to fuck around.

I sent Howard and Brad Guzan the wrong way a decent handful of times during penalty-shootout drills. During multiple rounds of passing, not only was I able to send the ball towards the right target every time, but I was able to do it comfortably. From Adair, to Dempsey, to Maurice Edu and to Michael Bradley, it didn't matter. By the end of the rounds, from the corners of my eyes, I knew they understood their error of underestimating me.

When it came to the one on one duels, I was paired with Buddle and Donovan - an incredibly skillful forward and the crown-jewel of the team's outfield players. I had my work cut out for me, but I knew I wasn't about to throw the opportunity away. By the time I was done with the two of them, Donovan was on the floor from a Cruyff turn and I made it known to Buddle that his feet weren't as quick as mine. A quick heel turn and a corner shot put the ball past Howard - who stared at the three of us, wondering what had just happened.

The five on five drill, however, was the cherry on top. Paired with Donovan, Jonathan Spector, Clark and Guzan in goal, we were able to net seven goals against Howard, Bocanegra, Bradley and Adair.  Three of them were netted from my feet, and one from my head. I was able to assist Adair's goal as well - a moment that brought me particular pride. With every goal I scored, with the assist I made, with the chances I tried to create... bit by bit I felt the players around me grow to be more comfortable. Bit by bit, my my presence felt less wrong and more natural. The light-hearted, team-building and nurturing aura was now surrounding me, and I couldn't have been happier.

Three hours of training. Three hours of heat skills demonstration. Three hours of fighting for respect and dignity. I managed to stand my own against almost three dozen professional football players. Me - an eighteen year-old girl from Seattle. By the end of training, I was beat, and I suppressed all urge to collapse to the ground. I felt my muscles aching in the most excruciating way. My heart beat as if it was about to finally give in.

And it was worth every second.

"Bradley, how the hell did you find her?!" Although I wasn't facing Gulati, I could hear the disbelief in his voice as he addressed Bradley.

"By sheer, dumb and fortunate luck," Bradley chuckled as he said those words, and I couldn't help but smile myself. Not just from gratitude , but from triumph. I sat down on the grass, drinking water from my bottle, trying to piece my mind and body to normal. My eyes dragged across the field, and were met with random bodies of players who glanced my direction, and then back to other players. What they were thinking was beyond my read, but I knew I had done my job.

I couldn't help but notice Adair was looking my way for a much longer time. When his eyes caught my attention enough to look back at him, he turned his head almost right away and picked up a conversation with Howard. I couldn't help but chuckle, wondering if I had proven him wrong in his mind.