"Black has got a sour fuckin' flavour, here's a taste of it, but Black is all I know, there ain't a thing that I would change in it." ──── DAVE
↺
𝐊𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐈 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐑 is continuously climbing the ranks as a footballer for Manchester United...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
˚✩ ⋆｡˚ ✩ °
FOOTBALL IS AN INTIMATE sport. There's so many emotions played with the game— happiness, anger, sadness, nervousness— and it's so raw that it's palpable. I always try to mask the latter emotion, but it's working overtime today. Usually, I only feel it on the inside when it comes to big games. I feel it in the form of butterflies, a quickened pulse rate, and an overload of thoughts on potential outcomes.
But we were the underdogs before. Now, we're playing with everything to lose, and it's almost as if said nervousness is lurking in the specs of my eyes.
Playing against Chelsea is difficult. It always proved to be a challenge, and that was without the weight of being in a title race. That was without the weight of feeling like I'll be the one to blame if we come away with anything other than a win. They were gifted three points because Spurs didn't play against them to stand in solidarity with me.
"Please listen to yourself, Kalani. How can you be to blame for anything when your performances are a massive reason we're even in this position in the first place?" Lauren said when I raised the topic during our pre-match meal two hours ago. Better to express the way I felt rather than face a mental battle as well as a physical battle when the time came to play.
"Exactly," Alessia had agreed. "The fact that the FA gave Chelsea the points when they could've just postponed the game... that's a conspiracy. No one blames you for that. If there's anyone to blame, we know exactly who."
It was true. It is true. It's the domino effect of Jenna Schillaci's actions, but it doesn't make me feel any less nervous. However, I know it'll dissipate when I step on the field because football provides me with a sense of serenity that is indescribable.
I sigh, taking a seat on the side of my bed in the hotel room I'm sharing with Lauren. She's down in the lobby, already dressed. I check my phone for the time and see 17:23 glaring at me in bold, so I make a mental note that we leave for Chelsea's Kingsmeadow ground in twenty-two minutes. It's about ten minutes away from here so we'll have plenty of time for match preparations before the 8pm kick-off.
I jump when my phone rings like it was waiting for me to hold it in my hands to do so.
"I want ten goals and five assists from you, Sinclair," Marcus says as soon as I accept his FaceTime call.
I laugh softly, watching his face take up my whole screen. Some of that nervousness subsides as he provides a lighthearted distraction.
