Little Sanchez // USWNT

Chapter 50

Ainsley's POV

We traveled the next day and spent the rest of our free time preparing to play Portugal in the last game of the group stages. 

We had to win or tie this to move on. If we lose, we're heading back home. 

We want to be first, so we have to win by some amount of goals. So the plan was to not hold back. 

I started on the bench again, which was fine. Ash looked about as uninspired as could be. 

I had an awful feeling, and I was certain she'd had it too. 

I kept looking at her every few minutes, and she never once cracked a smile. Not when I said something funny, not when the girls on the bench cracked jokes, no smiles. 

By halftime, it felt like everybody was feeling the same way. 

The atmosphere was shit and I knew we'd never make it through if everyone around kept acting the way they did. The bench needs to look alive, and show that we at least believe in the girls on the field. 

"You're doing good, Trina. You're doing good." I said to her once she came off. 

"I'm not feeling too great." Trinity sighed, squirting water into her mouth. 

"You're fine. Pick it up! You've got to find the back of the net! I know you can!" 

"Well I wish he'd bring you on." 

"That's not gonna happen for a little while, so you just have to play your game." I said, stopping. She did the same, looking me right in the eyes. I pulled her into a hug. 

I could tell she didn't feel good, I could tell she was tired, I could tell she was off. I could also tell that she felt the same way we all did. After a couple weeks and two and a half games, she had the feeling too. 

We stood there for a few long seconds. I had no idea if people were walking by, nor did I care. She held me in a comforting embrace, and I hope I did the same for her.

When we went into the locker room, the mood was low. I was becoming numb to it at this point. I really, really didn't want it to affect me. 

But I couldn't help it. 

When there's 22 other girls in the room all feeding off each other's upset attitude's this way, there's no avoiding it. 

I went into the game in the 60th with a mission. I was going to sore or get an assist, I had to. We had to feel good about this game, better than we felt about the last one. 

But if anything, we came out feeling worse. 

I tried my best, played my absolute hardest, but I'm one of 11 players. 

We almost went home. 

We were saved by 4 inches. 

Right at the very end of the game, the ball ricocheted off the post, Alyssa Naeher dove after it. She didn't get a touch, but it bounced off the post and Emily Sonnett kicked it down the field. 

I kept going, despite all of America having a heart attack in that moment. 

I put one on frame, and the goalkeeper barely knocked it out with a diving save. On the final play of the game, I played the ball to Alyssa Thompson, but she hit the ball just wide of the net. 

The whistle blew, and while we'd moved on to the round of 16, it sure didn't feel like it. 

"Two inches from going home, Trina. Two inches!" I said as we walked through the tunnel to the locker room.