THE PLAYERS GIRL © pablo gavi

2

The Interview

The clock showed the last 10 minutes of the match.

My eyes roomed the field for the player with the number 30 on his back.

It took me a few seconds to catch him with my eyes.
I watched him sprint a few metres until the number 11 from Manchester United, crossed his way, practically tackling him to the ground.

It looked as if he was just trying to split into his step, to get the ball away from him.

But apparently Gavi tripped over his leg, which continued to threw them both on the ground.

In a split second the whole stadium started to roar and growl.
Seriously like a bunch of lions.

When I looked in the crowd, I couldn't spot a single person not screaming in direction of the field.

The Manchester player was pissed.
With his hand he grabbed Gavis arm und pulled him single handedly up from the ground.

Mason greenwood !

That was his name, I remembered.

I was a bit surprised about Mason's action when he pulled Gavi extremely close to his face and screamed him right in the face.

I couldn't hear what he was saying, but I was able to read his lips.

,,What the hell is your problem man? You wanna have a fight? Do it outside of the field then! "

I watched Gavis gestures when I saw his right hand, clench into a fist.
He pushed the Manchester united player away from him and if Pedri wouldn't have grabbed gavi, I feel like he definitely would've punched him.

Definitely a person w some temper.

I took another look at the clock.

85:34 mins.

I expected the referee to pull a red card for Mason Greenwood, since he had fouled Lewandowski a good twenty minutes before already.

But instead he walked up to Gavi and gave him a yellow.

Completely defenseless he raised both of his arms.

Gavi was gonna start a discussion but pedri grabbed his shoulders and pushed him the other way around.

He was now facing me.
I held my breath for a second, while I thought he was looking at me.
But instead he was looking at the dude with the board next to me.

The Board showed Gavis number and then number 21.

Frenkie de Jong.

They were switching positions, last minute.

I followed Gavis eyes spotting the board.
He groaned and stomped off the field.
Passing me, without even caring about me standing there.

Not that I'd imagined him to care about some journalist.

I felt my hands starting to get sweaty, watching the clock go to 0 after the added extra play-time.