A rivalry like no other.

2. McCabes antics

I woke up to the sound of birds chirping outside my window, their cheerful melodies signaling the arrival of a brand new day. Stretching my tired limbs, I gradually came to my senses, realizing that today was no ordinary day—it was matchday. Arsenal awaited us at Leigh Sports Village, and the excitement pulsated through my veins as I swung my legs over the side of the bed.

The soft carpet under my feet provided a comforting sensation as I made my way to the kitchen. The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air. My trusty coffee machine, a faithful companion during early mornings, stood proudly on the kitchen counter. With a quick press of a button,
the smell filled the room, fueling my anticipation for the day ahead.

As I sat down at the table, I savored a bowl of fresh fruit and yogurt, relishing each spoonful. Fueling my body was crucial, ensuring I would be at my peak performance when the match whistle blew. I've always started match day mornings with a bowl of fruit and yogurt, to me it's a superstition so if I miss my daily breakfast I feel as if something isn't complete when I step out onto the pitch.

With breakfast complete, I reached for my phone, my digital connection to the world. Checking my social media accounts became a ritual, a way to stay connected with fans and loved ones alike. The notifications flooded in, messages of support and excitement for the upcoming game. I scrolled through the messages, a smile tugging at my lips as I absorbed the outpouring of love and encouragement. Many messages of luck and some well not so nice messages I guess you could say. The cons of being a footballer I guess, not everyone's a fan.

Time was slipping away, and the minutes ticked by as I hurriedly prepared for the day. My matchday attire, a red and black training kit bearing the Manchester United emblem, hung neatly in the wardrobe. I slipped it on with a sense of pride, the fabric embracing me like a second skin. My boots, polished and gleaming, awaited me by the door, ready to tread the green grass of the pitch.

Leigh Sports Village beckoned, It was a short drive from my apartment block just 10 minutes away from the grounds. The drive was a mixture of calm and anticipation, the road leading me closer to the battleground where legends were made. As I entered the stadium grounds, the buzz of excitement became tangible.

"Hey, Avery!" a familiar voice called out as I stepped onto the training ground. I turned to see Ella, jogging towards me. Her playful smile mirrored my own, an unspoken understanding shared between us. The one thing about Ella is that she always has a smile on her face on match days, it could be the champions league final and she has a face on her that seemed like she didn't have a care in the world and was just proud to be doing what she loved.

"Ella!" I grinned, opening my arms for a brief hug. "Ready to grab three points today?"

Ella nodded, her eyes shining with determination. "Absolutely, Avery! No mercy for them, right?"

As we entered the changing rooms, a sense of calmness prevailed among us. It was something I truly appreciated about our team—we didn't let the pressure get to us. However, there was one person who seemed affected by it: Marc Skinner, our coach.

As Marc walked into the dressing room, his face wore the usual serious expression, but today it seemed different. There was a noticeable tension in the air. The lines on his forehead looked deeper, and the determination in his eyes hinted at a newfound urgency we hadn't seen before.

"Alright, girls, listen up. This is a major game, maybe the biggest one we'll face this season. I need your complete focus from the first whistle to the very end. Each and every one of you needs to go out there and give it everything you've got. Treat this match like it's the Champions League final," Marc's voice carried a stern tone as he locked eyes with each of us, his words hanging in the air.