WOSO Imagines

Leave it All on the Pitch (Lena Oberdorf)

"Oberdorf threads it through to Pajor, but it's intercepted once again by Natalia Manz who has been all over the grass tonight. The German midfielder spent a great deal of time with Vfl Wolfsburg before signing with Frankfurt last season, breaking the Bundesliga transfer fee record. Good move by Frankfurt; Manz is one of the best young wingers we've seen of late."

I can sense Lena behind me, chasing the ball back. With a glance, I pass it wide to the left, increasing my pace to find an open pocket closer to the box. I track both the ball and Lena, knowing she's the biggest threat to me on the pitch.

"Nati!"

The ball sticks to my feet and of course, Lena's there. I take my time because she won't challenge me directly. I smirk at her, faking left, then meg her. She grunts with frustration, but I don't stick around to let her retaliate, moving quickly up the wing, acting the decoy.

All of Wolfsburg's defense is now focused on me, leaving Laura unmarked up front. I slow myself down, letting them press in before sending a long ball just in front of her. She stays onside until the perfect moment, sending a low rocket shot into the bottom left corner, a shot that Merle cannot save. Just like that, we're up 1-0 before the half.

I wink at Lena as I run by her to celebrate with my team. She narrows her eyes at me.

When play starts again, they're quick to answer our goal, Poppi on the breakaway almost immediately, but her shot is deflected by Sara. They're awarded a corner and I'm instructed to mark Lena.

"Your ass looks good in those shorts, Obi," I whisper coming up behind her.

The whistle blows.

She pushes herself into me, trying to prevent me from blocking her. "Don't let it distract you, Nati."

The ball is in the air; she jumps, trying to get her head on it. I read her movement well, managing to shove her away from the ball. She ends up on the ground, her teammates calling for a foul. One which, thankfully, doesn't get called.

I offer her my hand, but she swats it away. "Tsk, tsk. Poor sportsmanship is not attractive on you, prinzessin," I smirk. (Princess)

"Fuck off, Manz," she growls.

Though I don't usually take things personally on the pitch, I feel a weird tug in my chest because of her tone. I simply walk away, not wanting to make a scene or get either of us carded.

As we resume play once again, Lena is on my ass more than ever, making it so I either cannot get the ball or have to pass it off quickly. I grow more frustrated as the minutes tick by, and I can sense her teammates are too; focusing solely on preventing me from playing means she is rarely open to aid in Wolfsburg's attack. I manage to get around her and collect a pass from Nadine, running as hard as I can up the left side, looking towards the center for Laura or Nicole.

Suddenly, my legs are knocked out from underneath me, studs digging into the side of my calf. I go down hard, banging my knee; the whistle sounds. I roll onto my side, clutching my knee and calf, just in time to see Lena get to her feet. She looks shocked, as if she didn't realize what she just did. She takes a step towards me and is immediately surrounded by my teammates, screaming at her.

"Verschwinde!" (back off) I command, voice strained as I try to breathe through the pain. "Let the ref handle it."

They reluctantly listen, dispersing as the physios jog over to examine my injuries. Lena hovers nearby, not bothering to argue about the yellow card she is awarded. I ignore her, angry with her behavior.

After some stretching out and a bottle of water, I manage to get to my feet and walk off the field, needing permission to re-enter the game. I get it and not a minute later, the halftime whistle blows. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Lena trying to make her way over to me. Not wanting to talk to her, I quickly make my way back to the changing rooms.