Alerrie: His Son

Fifty.

Alex's POV:

I was sat in the changing rooms, pulling my top on. I was ready for the Euro's Final.

The final.

I began to trudge out and I'd never been so nervous in my life. Everyone was in the stands - Perrie, Jordie, Lillie, Tommy, Charlie and all the others that had come along to watch. And not to mention, the whole of England watching back at home. It was certainly. lot of pressure

Then the whistle blew. We started playing and we both had some close chances. I was playing well and had just begun a good run, when I was fouled and fell over.

I got up fairly quickly only to be grabbed in the throat by the other player. He started pushing and swearing at me, accusing me of diving.
I could barely understand as he was speaking in a different language. I tried to push him off me and Jordan Henderson managed to push him away.

The ref came over and gave the player a yellow card. Then, amazingly, he cautioned me when I didn't do anything. Rightly so, he was booed by the crowd.

I took the free kick. It was a great delivery and was pinpoint to Stones' head but he headed it straight at the keeper.

Aah, it was a great delivery.

They quickly initiated a counterattack on the opposite side to me. The midfield didn't do enough to stop the opposition and the ball ended up travelling near to the middle of the pitch with a player. I just about managed to get there and hold the player up massively so he could only pass backwards. However, the player behind him crafted a through ball to opposing striker and the defence didn't do enough to stop him.

He shot and it went in.

I fell to ground. No, this couldn't happen!
We had to win - this might be my only chance. I couldn't waste it like this, the whole of England was counting on us.

We brought the ball to the middle for the restart. We played lethargically for the rest of the half. We were really down for conceding and it showed. We were desperate for an equaliser not playing well.

It was very frustrating because I kept trying to calm it down and play nice passes with my teammates but they just kept belting it up the pitch rather than playing 1-2s with me.

We trudged off at half time and the manager shouted at everyone. I didn't really want to listen but obviously I had to. The conversation built our spirits and we headed outside, but first, the manager caught me.

"Alex, you're doing brilliantly, keep it up. You're the only one playing with a bit of fight. I have a feeling if anyone can inspire this team to get back into it, it's you."

I beamed, full of confidence. We kicked off and were playing good football. The team were getting chances but their defence were good.

Personally, I thought I was playing great. Everything just seemed to work - every pass was perfectly weighted and placed and got to its man. People were just a bit edgy and some were greedy. I guessed it was a big occasion so everyone wanted to score.

I got the ball in the middle of the pitch. Raheem was out wide and wanted it and their players were very wary of him: he'd been playing well and was looking dangerous, maybe the most likely England player to score.
However, they were so concentrated on him that they left a massive space in the middle. I took advantage of it and ran through the middle. By the time they realised what I was doing, I was too far away and they couldn't keep up with my pace. Also, the defenders only reached me on the edge of the box but I was soon outnumbered. However, with both skill and a stroke of luck I managed to skip over one defender's foot and drag the ball back and forth with a feint to nudge the ball past the other. I was right on the edge of the box and about to shoot when my back was suddenly taken away from me and I fell to the floor.