Was Your Match || Julián Álvarez

3

Three to one, we were losing by two goals. We only had about 29 minutes left before full-time. I was starting to get frustrated. I glanced at my teammate, Julian Alvárez, who is all smiles and loose. Usually, he's full-out passion competitive to win, but today, I've noticed he's taking the match less seriously. Even though he was responsible for scoring the first goal from the first half, he was not contributing enough to work the field like he usually does.

So I walked over to him and smacked him at the back of the head.

"Ow!" He uttered. "Watch the hair!"

"Stop losing the ball! What the hell's matter with you?" I shouted at him. "Keep your head in the game, or we're losing the money we bet on!"

"Comes and goes. It's just money." He disregarded. "So anyway, do I look alright? I don't look sweaty, do I?

"I'm serious, Julian! And I swear if we lose this match, you're paying back today's weekly allowance double!"

After I tried straighten out Julian, I walked back to my position. But then my attention shifted to a man at maybe in his 40s wearing tracksuit lurking by the corner intently watching. It's very uncommon for any adults to come over at this place unless there is a parent who had come looking for their kid. But then I don't recognize him anywhere, so obviously, he's not from around here. What did he come here for? The match? Or stare at us kids? I shuddered. That's just creepy, man, I thought.

I decided not to mind over it and focus on winning the match instead. I glanced back at Julian, and now I find out the reason why he's acting very unconcentrated and arrogant today. His attention was occupied by the unknown girls from among the crowds who were ogling over him. He was charming his little fans with a smile. When he waved his hand in their direction, they exaggerately went squealing, swooning, and giggling.

I furiously called him out again in the middle of the game, "Hey, Alvárez! Don't make me triple the cost, damn it!"

He rolled his eyes at me.

Only 22 minutes left, but we had the ball in possession. The ball passed to me, and then I passed it to Julian, hoping he wouldn't lose it again. He then ran with ball, as if now he's been pulled out of distraction. He passed two defenders and ran towards the goal post, but the two were still in this trail. He then passed the ball, and our teammate Roberto taps it in. We scored with 19 minutes left, but there's still hope for an equalizer. We went back to our position after a short celebration.

We still had possession within 7 minutes. When I saw the space opportunity, I struck the ball, scoring our third goal from outside the box.

"Good job, Sal!" Julian shouted.

"No time for praise. Score the winning goal!" I urged.

Within the last 2 minutes, Julian managed to pull a penalty award. I celebrated early without assuming the worst. As expected, Julian beat the goalkeeper and scored us the winning goal.

We ran towards Julian and celebrated the triumph.

Afterward, we rest out our fatigue on a bench, drying off our sweats and charging our hydration.

The man I noticed earlier was now ever so near. So, I nudge Julian beside me. "Juli, that's the guy I saw lurking around. I don't know about you, but he gives me off vibe."

"He looks alright."

"Yeah, but then what if he's one of those pennofiles that Cinco told us about." I suggested cautiously.

"Sal, you can't just judge people like that-"

In a startle, I instictively gripped Julian's arm, murmuring, "Oh look, he's coming over."