For The Hope Of It All

Ilyes

I don't remember the last time I had so much as even shed a tear. Not even after I signed with Manchester Glory; one of the best clubs of Europe. Or when we were crowned champions of Europe for the first time in the club's history. But I did when Safiyah told me she didn't want to be with me anymore. I didn't cry in front of her. I think I was too distracted by at how my heart cracked right then and there. I couldn't really hear exactly what she said, but the look on her face was enough to tell me. After my ankle surgery, everything had been smooth sailing. The risk of reoccurring injury was very small. All I had to focus on was making sure I was in perfect shape for next season. Recovery was hard but I had a dedicated team ready to work with me over the next 5 months. My coach Xabi had called for a meeting with me once the season was over, once all the festivities were done. He sat me down and told me that he decided to move me out of my natural playing position as a winger to a central defensive midfielder. His focus was to put less pressure on me if I were to return to the team. The problem was that we already had an amazing CDM. In fact, we had 2 superstar CDMs who were fighting for a spot in the starting eleven. To put me out of my position as a winger, out of my comfort zone and into a position where I wouldn't even be guaranteed playing time was unheard of. Even the coaching staff didn't seemed convinced with his decision. I'd never felt let down by a manager in my entire career. Part of me felt like it had to be because I was dating his daughter and he just wanted to punish me. I was Manchester Glory's biggest signing. At my old club, Newcastle City, I was their talisman, they didn't want to let me go. But I wanted to win trophies and I knew I was going to win at Manchester. Under Xabi, playing with the greatest players in the league. Mateo Romero. Baptiste Bellegarde and Hanbin Kim. But Safiyah, she had backed her dad's decision. I had never felt so alone in that moment. I couldn't understand her logic.

"The risk of your injury reoccurring was small Ilyes, not nothing. Playing as a central defensive midfield means you won't risk getting hurt running up and down the pitch" Safiyah had said to me from the kitchen. I was frustrated after the meeting, sitting on the sofa with my ankle elevated as my mind played through the entire conversation I had with Xabi.

"I am a winger Safiyah, running up and down the pitch is my job. There are 2 CDMs already fighting for the main position and with Xabi's 4-1-2-3 formation, where does that leave me?"

"That leaves you free from injury! You have an eye at reading the game and playing as a CDM will help your recovery in the long term. You won't have to move around as much. I don't understand why you're being so spoiled about this."

I lift my head from where it had been in my hands, massaging at the knot at the sides of my head. "Spoiled? You think I'm spoiled for not wanting to leave my natural playing position. Being a winger is all I've ever known. If I get injured, then that comes with the territory. I don't understand why you're backing your dad in this."

For some reason, that set her off because the stainless steel knife she had been using to dice vegetables clangs onto the marble counter, the sound ringing in my ears. I look over my shoulder at her and she's close to the colour red. In our year long relationship I don't think I've ever seen her that upset.

"Backing my dad? You think, just because I'm a woman I don't know what I'm talking about when it comes to football? I can't believe you. I am backing the decision - doesn't matter if it's coming from my dad or the President of the club. It is the right decision."

We had the biggest fight of our entire relationship that night. She was making it a thing about being a woman, which I didn't understand. I had never once discredited her or made her feel like her opinions about football were invalid. I only mentioned her backing her dad because it was the only explanation for why she agreed with him and chose not see to understand that it put me at a disadvantage. He didn't even give me the chance to recover yet, calling the meeting when the season had only just ended, two weeks after my surgery. I was still in a moon boot, wobbling on crutches. But Safiyah, she took it as a personal attack and she was just far too involved to realize that perhaps her dad wasn't making the right decision when it was so early on. She just couldn't let go of that one comment. I apologized countless of times, trying to make her understand that her dad was wrong but she drew further away until she finally ended things. I never thought that this would've been the reason why I'd lose her. I thought that maybe she'd change her mind, but there was just something in the way she looked at me that I thought that this was final. She was supposed to be coming to stay with me in New York City while I recovered with my family. My mom's sisters and my cousins, where I'd spent my summers growing up. We were supposed to go to the Empire State building together. But instead, I flew the 7 hours and 55 minutes alone on the private jet that the club owned, staring out at the urban cityscape even though it felt like there was a gaping hole in my chest. I had cried enough, abruptly a few days after the break up while I was brushing my teeth, foam flying everywhere as I sobbed. I allowed myself a week of self pitying before my father helped me pack my belongings and I was on my way back to the people I called home.