The final whistle blew, and the sound echoed through the stadium like a wave crashing onto the shore. It was over. We had done it. My team had knocked Switzerland out of the World Cup, securing our place in the next round, the semi finals. The roar of our fans filled the air, and my teammates ran toward each other, celebrating the hard-fought victory with shouts of joy and a lot of jumping on each others shoulders or into them, causing half of our players being carried around.
But I just stood there, catching my breath in the aftermath of the eventful match, my eyes fell on Alisha. She was on her knees in the middle of the pitch, her head bowed low, hands gripping the grass beneath her. The heartbreak was visible even from a distance, I think everyone in the stadium could see her crying. My chest tightened with empathy. That could've been me, I could've been in that position.
It was the kind of game that could have gone either way. Alisha and her teammates had fought back every time we got the ball which pushed us to the limit. We knew this was their dream too, just as much as it was ours. And now, seeing her like this, I couldn't help but feel the weight of what we had taken from them. We took their hopes, their aspirations, their chance to continue on the world's biggest stage.
I hesitated for a moment, caught between the euphoria of our win and the sadness I felt for my friend. But then my feet started moving before my brain had fully made the decision. I walked across the field, weaving between the celebrating bodies of my teammates and the despondent figures of the Swiss players. I knew that nothing I could say would truly make this moment any better for her, but I had to try, thats just who I am I suppose.
When I reached her, I gently placed a hand on her shoulder, sitting down on the grass next to her, with my arms legs. "Alisha..."
She looked up, her eyes red from tears, and gave me a small, sad smile. "Congrats, (Y/n/n), You should be celebrating right now." she said, her voice shaky but genuine.
"Thanks," I replied softly. "But I'm so sorry, Alisha. I know how much this meant to you."
She shook her head, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "It's football, right? Someone has to win, someone has to lose. I just... I really thought we could do it this time."
I crouched down beside her, offering what comfort I could. "You almost did. You guys played an incredible game. You pushed us to our limits out there."
"Not enough, though," she murmured, her gaze dropping to the ground again.
I could see the pain in her expression, the way her shoulders slumped under the weight of the loss. I knew how much she had sacrificed to get here, the hours of training, the grueling matches, the endless pressure. And now, it had all come to an abrupt end.
"You know, Alisha," I began, choosing my words carefully, "this isn't the end for you. You're an amazing player, and you're going to have so many more chances to shine on this stage. Maybe not today, but one day. You're one of the best I've ever played against."
She let out a small, humorless laugh. "That's nice of you to say, (Y/n). But it still sucks right now."
"I know," I admitted, squeezing her shoulder. "It's supposed to, and it will for quite a while. But you're not alone in this. Your teammates, your fans... they're all proud of you, no matter what. And so am I. You should be proud too, you got do far in this competition."
She nodded, taking a deep breath as she tried to compose herself. "Thanks," she said, her voice a little steadier now. "That means a lot, especially coming from you."
I smiled at her, hoping to bring some light into this dark moment. "And when you're ready, we can grab a coffee or something. No football talk, just mates hanging out."
Alisha smiled, a genuine one this time. "I'd like that."
We both stood up, and I pulled her into a hug. It was a simple gesture, but in that moment, it felt like the most important thing I could do. As much as the competition mattered, as much as winning meant to both of us, our friendship mattered more. The game had ended, but this was something that went beyond the pitch.
As we parted, I could see her teammates beginning to gather around her, offering their own words of comfort. She gave me one last nod, a silent acknowledgment of the bond we shared despite the rivalry.
"Good luck in the next round," she said, her voice soft but sincere.
"Thanks, Alisha. Take care, okay?"
With that, I quickly checked on the other members of her team before turning to rejoin my teammates, who were still buzzing with excitement. But as I did, I glanced back at Alisha one last time, watching as she joined her team, their heads held high despite the loss. I knew that this wouldn't be the last time we faced each other on the pitch, and I knew that when we did, it would be just as intense, just as passionate, just as brutal and most likely just as important as this one now.
