Too Much - John Stones

Shame

Johns POV

"How are you feeling?" I followed Brad out to the back of the stadium where she was having a cigarette a few minutes before the game was scheduled to start.

"Like I'm gonna to throw up" she half laughed.

"Pep wouldn't of chosen you if he thought you couldn't do it"

"I just think Vinny misunderstood him, he must of meant someone else" she said.

"He wrote you name multiple times in the notepad, it's obvious he wanted you to do this" I looked into the notepad that she was studying from was filled with messy diagrams and notes.

"Anyway, about last night" she began to say.

"We don't have to talk about this now" I took her free hand, which was trembling ever so slightly. "Maybe when we get back to Manchester?" I suggested.

"I just don't want you to get your hopes up, I still don't know how I feel" she huffed and removed her hand from mine.

"It's fine, I'm not expecting you to fall back into my arms, but I want you to know that I never stopped loving you" I said, truthfully. Before she could reply they announced that we needed to line up in the tunnel, ready for the game.

"Good luck" she smiled.

"And you" I then added and jogged out to the line.

After we walked out and shook all of Liverpool's hands Bradleigh then also walked out and shook Klopps hand as they said hello to each other. She sat down and pulled her phone and headphones out of her bag and placed one into her ear. She then pulled out the notepad and a pen as she began to read it all again, circling important parts.

Kevin, who always stood in as captain when Vinny wasn't playing won the coin toss and decided that we would start the first half with the ball, which we always did when we won the toss. The whistle went and the game begun.

After both teams having multiple shots on target in the first half and then Bradleigh along with Vinny giving us a team talk at half time we were back on the pitch for the second half. I fiddled about with my shin pads, making sure they were in the perfect position before the whistle went off again for the second half.

Bradleighs POV

Why are they not scoring for fuck sake. I kept thinking to myself. The first thing I did was read the notepad which suggested that when it was 0-0 to take off a midfielder and put on a striker which is what I did. Zinchenko came off in place for Jesus who I knew could score under pressure. But that still made no difference. At 75 minutes I pulled Kevin off and let Vinny on is well, who I knew would defend well to stop Liverpool from scoring but he was so good with the ball is well, and in set pieces. I knew this was his last game at City is well, so win or loose I wanted him on the pitch.

Again both teams had multiple shots of targets but were either deflected by a defender or bounced off the cross bar. I was panicking, not many of the City supporter agreed with Peps investment in me, thinking that I have distracted the players from training and that I'm the reason that sometimes we would concede goals or the players wouldn't be 100% themselves. So I knew that if we lost today, I would be a big part of the blame. It was soon coming up to 90 minutes and I knew the 30 minutes extra time would be coming our way. I knew I needed to get some energy back into the team so I quickly subbed Kyle off for Phil who I also know can produce goals out of nothing. After he got warmed up a bit more the whistle went again, singling that it would go to 30 minutes extra time.

"I mean if it goes to penalties and they lose you really can't put that to the blame of Bradleigh" I began to listen through my headphone of the commentary of the game. "Tactually she has done everything right, it's almost as if the players have forgotten the size of the net" they added. I walked into the pitch where everyone made a circle, arms around each-other.