It all started with a match. One simple match. Just a match between Argentina and Saudi Arabia. The match on November 22nd.
.
Then, she discovered the thing called World Cup. The World Cup (with capital letters). The one thing that united the world...
"Okay, before we go in," Mr. Nicolas turned to us with his cap and sunglasses on (yep, the thing with his past was still on). "Remember everything we've trained. Everything we talked about," after that, he turned to me. "Everything we talked about being calm," "Being calm brings the best we are capable of. And also, playing football is not a thing you should be stressing about. It just happens," was Daniel Nicolas' famous quote that I just brought back and back to my mind to help me cool down. It wasn't working. "You'll do great. Better than the half, for sure," he encouraged us, and the next thing I felt was a strong pair of arms hugging all three of us. I really started seeing Mr. Nicolas as a father figure. He was always there for us. He was always encouraging us. Not only in football, but in school too. He was always there to cheer us up when things didn't go as planne- "Go and show them what you're capable of," we nodded. "Before we're late," he joked, and we chuckled. He was undoubtedly the best coach on Earth.
***
When we entered, we marvelled the inside of the facility. It was all new, shiny, and modern. These people had class.
There was also an outdoor pitch (which the tryouts were on) that was incredibly looking through the windows. But if I think about it...our pitch was better. We all had both happy and some disturbing memories there, but it was the place everything had begun. The start of our journey. The change. The pitch was representing each one of us. But in a field-form.
"Hey," Paige said with a grin on her face to three girls standing near the entrance. They were dressed up with purple cheerleader type of dresses and had shoes with the same colour on their feet.
"Hi," one of them returned coldly. Ouch. "Are you here for the cheerleading tryouts?" There were cheerleader tryouts too?
"We're here for the football team tryouts," Blake cut the girls off. They looked at each other confused. What was going on?
"W-what?" The other one asked through laughs. Now, we looked at each other confused. Really, what was going on? "The football team tryouts are only for boys," she couldn't stop laughing. We turned to Blake.
"Don't look at me like this," she suddenly said. "I don't know anything about that. I read it was for a women's team," she protested. The girls' laughter became even heavier. "What?" Blake suddenly turned cold and asked the cheerleaders.
"N-nothing," the first one was still laughing. Ugh, why would they laugh about something of the kind?! "Girls are meant to be cheerleaders, and the boys-football players," she finally said. WHAT?! I haven't heard something like this since Barca's match. It was bringing me memories of P- No, no, no! I was not gonna think about him. I couldn't let myself to get through another panic attack.
"Excuse me," I heard Blake saying. "Girls can play football-" I caught her arm before she could do something she will regret after that.
"Calm down, Blake," I told her. "We don't have to listen to them. It's their opinion. Not ours."
"I'll hold it only because of you two," she turned to me and Paige. "And you, Mr. Nicolas," she smirked. He grinned too. "But never get in our way again," her tone turned stern towards the three girls. "Or you'll have to face the consequences," I saw their facial expressions changing from the confident they had until that moment and the scared after Blake's words. Their faces were perfect for a picture.
***
"Hello," I greeted the coach, a few boys walking beside us. "Are you coach Hart?" A man in his forties turned and looked us from up to down.
"The cheerleading tryouts are right there," he pointed to the group of girls at the other side of the outdoor pitch. Oh, not again! I shook my head and looked to the others and Mr. Nicolas, who was already sitting on the benches.
"We're here to tryout for the team," Blake showed him her cleats, and he looked us from up to down again. I could say he hadn't been expecting that.
"The tryouts are only for boys," he said sternly. "You cannot participate," was the last thing he said before turning the other side again to talk with a woman around his age and her son that was right beside his mother.
"You'll regret that," I suddenly said. And I don't know by I did. It was clear that he didn't want us in the team. Yeah, we were girls, but we couldn't stop there. We had to at least try. "We've been practicing really hard these past few months," I continued, the man still facing the woman and...taking a small envelope while shaking hands with her? What? "We deserve a try," I didn't break my focus, however. He then turned, the woman and her son walking off.
"Look..." he started.
"Olivia. Olivia Davies," I said proudly.
"Olivia," he sighed. "It's a boys' tryouts. Boys' competition," he looked at me with a blank gaze. "You cannot compete with all of the boys. They are too strong for you-"
"We are better," Paige stepped in, and I looked at her proudly. He movers his startled gaze to her.
"We are strong too," Blake continued.
"And even if we are not as strong as they are..." I was the next one to say a line.
"We have better technical abilities than them," Paige said again.
"Undoubtedly."
"What is it gonna be then?" I moved my eyes, only to face a pretty much shocked face before us. "Reject us and lose, or give us a chance and win?" I set the ultimatum and watched as he scratched his chin a little. Yeah, it was going to be a long waiting.
***
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(Pinterest. Credit Abby Grace.)
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