Cause and Effect

Twenty nine

It had been a while since I'd spent my evening with Hector, Granit and Neymar, but the following evening was Liverpool vs City's second leg of their UCL quarter final, and we decided to watch it together, instead of playing video games. The four of us were gathered in Hector's living room once again, and were relaxing on various bean bags and sofas scattered about the room. The first leg at the Etihad had ended one all, so although Liverpool had the advantage of an away goal, it was really still anyone's game. I wanted city to win. Neymar wanted Liverpool to win. Hector and Granit were undecided, but wouldn't pass up the opportunity to watch good football. It was Salah and Bobby vs Aguero and Ronaldo, or perhaps more to the point, Van Djik and Trent vs Aguero and Ronaldo, and it was the fourth time it had happened this season. It had never disappointed so far.

As Hector pointed out, half the reason Neymar was cheering for Liverpool was because of Bobby Firmino, his close friend from his national team, so when Bobby was the first to score, he was wildly excited.

"You know there's more Brazilians on City's squad than Liverpool's, right?" I asked, rolling my eyes at him.

Neymar halted his celebrations to give me a look of disdain.

"Stop being salty."

"It's true!" I retorted.

"Okay, well let me count how many Spanish players are on each team and see who you should support!"

It turned out that City had more Spanish players anyway, much to Neymar's annoyance.

"Ha," I grinned. "Hec you can support City too then."

"Liverpool it is," Granit chuckled at us. "I think Shaqiri's the only Swiss player on either team."

City's equaliser came about twenty minutes later through a Ronaldo free kick, and not even two minutes after that a volley from Aguero gave them the lead. Neymar sat and glared at the Argentinian striker every time he appeared until the half time whistle blew. Then he looked at me.

"Don't say it..." he warned.

"Aguerooooooo!" I smirked at him.

"This is ridiculous, since when do City win at Anfield?" He complained.

"Game's not over yet," Granit reminded him.

"At least Tottenham aren't going through," said Hector.

"Why, what's the score?" I asked.

"5-2 on aggregate to Barca," he grinned, passing me his phone, which showed the stats from the other quarter final which was happening at the same time.

"That's what we want," I laughed.

The City-Liverpool game went quiet until the eightieth minute, when City won another free kick just outside the box on the left corner. I watched intently as at least five blue kits argued over it, until they all dispersed, leaving Leroy and Cris standing over it. I eyed the two of them curiously.

"Cris'll hit that," said Neymar.

"No, why is Leroy even there then," I said. "Leroy's got this."

Sure enough, the whistle blew, and Cris made a dummy run, leaving Leroy to curl the ball beautifully into the box. It connected perfectly with Anya's head, and, well.

I hadn't expected my advice to be taken quite so literally.

Neymar groaned dramatically as we watched the ball slip past Allison's finger tips, and hit the back of the net. Anya was instantly mobbed by her teammates, but she wriggled out of it, and ran straight over to Leroy, and kissed him on live TV.