La Reina | The Story of Melanie Kavitz

honduras (II)

The first half was brutal. Nil-nil. Nothing to show for the efforts we laid onto the field. But Bradley wasn't done yet, and we weren't either.

"You're playing with fear, all of you! You need to let that go! Especially you, Kavitz!"

I knew he was right. I was playing with fear. I always had fear running through my body. But this wasn't the time to have it. I could get away with a misstep or two on the high school field. But this was the CONCACAF World Cup qualifiers. The slightest of mistakes could be a tremendous loss.

Donovan, Howard, and Dempsey spent a few minutes with me before we walked out onto the field foe the second half. They had seen the signs in full display, but they needed to make sure I knew not to focus on them.

"Talk is just that - talk," Howard reminded me. "It only becomes real if you allow it to be real. Don't allow it to be real."

"Those signs and messages are just disguising their fear of change," Donovan had wrapped his arm around my shoulder because he saw that I had become lightweight after hearing faint sexist chants from the bleachers. "Change can be good, and you've proven that to us. All you have to do is prove it to them."

He was right. Change didn't have to be fearful. Change didn't have to be conniving. Change could be revolutionary.

I needed this change to be revolutionary.

We now had the first touch of the ball going into the second half. My first touch of the ball was a successful through ball to Adair, who was just unlucky enough to hit the crossbar just after a brilliant dribble. At least we had a chance right off the bat.

Bradley won his duel and passed the ball to Donovan, who made a run for it in the open space. I tried catching up to him, but two defenders had already marked Donovan, and as soon as I approached the centre, Donovan ended up on the floor, and the whistle was blown.

It was a foul.

The Honduran players were arguing quite viciously, but the referee was adamant. A free kick was being given to us.

And I couldn't have been happier.

The players were gathering closer and closer together, and I ran to find Bocanegra. "Let me take it."

"What?" The confusion on his face wasn't from my proposition, but from wondering what I was even talking about. "Take what?"

"The kick, let me do it." I was out of breath with the  adrenaline pumping through my veins. "I can do this. Please, let me try."

This was the only chance I was going to get to even try to put any of the doubt to bed - at least for a little while. Bocanegra looked at me with aching anxiety, and looked around the field at the other players at hand. Donovan, Adair, Dempsey, Bradley, Spector, and so many more were clearly capable of taking the free kick over me. I had no legs to stand on, but I needed this. More than anything. And I would make sure I put my money where my mouth was. "Carlos, please."

He turned to look at me again, and I know he saw the desperation in my eyes. Closing his eyes for a brief moment, he took a breath. And then he turned his back on me.

"Alright everyone, Melanie is taking the free kick!"

"WHAT?!" Adair was clearly furious, and he showed his frustration by storming up to Bocanegra. "You're gonna let her blow this for us?!"