La Reina | The Story of Melanie Kavitz

flashback: 2018 World Cup

i'm mainly including this flashback to show you that this team isn't always clutch. in fact, they really blew it when it really mattered.

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July 15, 2018

90 minutes, and so much back and forth.

We started off the final with an early goal, but France managed to equalize just a few minutes later because we let go of our defensive control. Antoine Griezzmann was causing our side quite a bit of torment, and it wasn't just with the goal. He may have been placed as a forward, but his communication with N'golo Kante in the midfield was making it really hard for us to do much with what we had to work with.

France was the only European team in the World Cup to not have a single female player in their squad, which, to me, was slightly disappointing. I knew all teams had to operate on an honour and credential system, and it was blatantly obvious that France had their best players on the field, but seeing no women on their side of the field still saddened me a little.

We had Alex's goal and my assist to build off of, and our midfield was steady given that Bradley was still holding charge. However... with Howard in goal, Bradley running that midfield and Dempsey trying to work with Alex and me... it was evident that they were on their absolute last legs. Bradley had a lot of faith in us to take control of the younger players, but I knew how much the three of them were struggling. We spent so much time together over the years... we didn't need words to communicate. I knew.

We still weren't going to allow France to get the better of us.

We reached half-time tied with one another, and we knew that there needed to be some changes made in order to make the second half go better.

To my and Howard's absolute relief, Brad Guzan was going to take his place in the net. Howard has been incredible throughout his entire career, but an incredibly swift Kylian Mbappe, a very in-form Antoine Griezzmann, and a powerful Olivier Giroud rendered our 39-year-old goalkeeper exhausted, and I absolutely didn't blame him.

Dempsey and Michael Bradley were to stay on the field, which frustrated me a little bit, but I was going to trust Bradley's judgment.

But it didn't matter because we got absolutely cooked in the second half.

It took France 10 minutes to score two goals - one from Kylian Mbappe and the other from Paul Pogba. And once they were two goals up, they shifted into full defensive mode, knowing that there was nothing we could do to break through with the attack.

We lost control of the midfield with Kante running circles around us, and while Lloris wasn't the greatest of goalkeepers... the French defensive side was doing a heavy deal of interceptions, clearing away every opportunity that was created by our own midfield and almost every shot attempted by us at the front.

We lost that game 3-1. We never recovered.

And when the final whistle blew... I couldn't help but let the tears flow from my eyes. This was my second World Cup final, and I lost. Again.

I lost the biggest final in football history twice.

I felt like an utter fraud.

Bradley ran up the field to embrace me, and I couldn't help but sink into his arms, withering in pain. "Hey, it'll be okay. It's going to be okay."