control - Alexia Putellas

1.

It was a mild midsummer night in the vibrant downtown of Catalonia's capital Barcelona.

A few days before the start of yet another training camp in preparation for the World Cup starting a couple of weeks from now.

And as Alexia Putellas, the two time Ballon D'Or winner, ordered her third glass of water with a squeeze of lemon, the glass half filled with ice cubes and then poured up with water, she couldn't help asking herself one single question.

Why again did she agree to join the team tonight?

She wasn't quite sure what made her agree to Mapi's offer, knowing she would only sit right there at the bar from the moment she stepped into this vibrant downtown nightclub.

With her Barcelona teammates - at least the ones who'd join camp as well - dancing behind her, Alexia found comfort with the glass of water between her warm palms, aware that the following weeks would be more than stressful.

She was stressed out enough already.

And the only thoughts circling in the smart captains mind were regarding her profession. All Alexia could think about ever since she came back from her injury was her daily routine.

Following a busy schedule as she did for the last couple of years, there has barely been a moment where the two time Ballon D'Or winner found time to relax.

Maybe it was a day off spent with her family.

Maybe it was a 10 minute nap on the plane on her way to the UWCL final in Eindhoven.

Maybe it was the short break she allowed herself to enjoy when she tried to rest in the bathtub yesterday.

Tried.

That's the word that fits Alexia's situation best.

She tried to get some rest. She tried to enjoy herself. She tried to get her mind off her profession - football - which she was giving her everything.

Alexia tried.

She tried hard. And she really wanted to. But the smart midfielder failed.

Alexia failed over and over again.

"Should I get you another... or something else, maybe?", the courteous bartender asks as he gestures towards the empty glass in the midfielders hand, snapping Alexia back into reality in an instant.

Glancing down, delicate lips pursed and cheeks flushed in a light shade of rose, the athlete realized she had already finished her third glass of water with a squeeze of lemon.

"I'll stick to water, gracias", Alexia mumbles, the bass resounding through her ears as she releases her warm palms around the glass, watching the bartender refilling her drink.

If one could even call that a drink.

Turning around on the higher barstool, the captain decides it might be worth a glance towards the dance floor, checking on her teammates that shouldn't get too drunk given the fact that a huge tournament was just around the corner.

And the first person she noticed was Mapi.

The defender - who for whatever reason had managed to drag her along to this party - was dancing in the middle of the dance floor, tattooed arms up in the air, blonde hair completely disheveled, simply having fun.

Mapi was obviously enjoying herself.

And for one tiny second, Alexia wished that she'd be able to switch her mind off like that, and be able to enjoy herself on that dance floor with the others, even though it would be just for a couple of minutes.