Page 67 of Off the Pitch

The Times

Christian

The ball thumped against the back of the net, joining the numerous ones already scattered there.

The training ground was empty, the early spring sunshine tempered by grey clouds that threatened rain. When I’d arrived, the pitch had still been covered in a low-lying mist, and everything had still been locked and silent. It had taken me twenty minutes to find a caretaker to unlock the equipment cupboard so I could retrieve the ball bags. He’d given me a funny look as he’d made me promise to put them back afterwards. I’d barely been able to look him in the eye, and instead I’d just nodded and grabbed as much as I could carry, hoping to get away from the conversation. Even just his expression had made my stomach turn—I knew he was judging me. And I knew I deserved it.

I grabbed another ball from the bag behind me and placed it on the penalty spot.

I lined up but refused to look up, too afraid of what I might see.

Too afraid that I might see David in front of me. The person I had pushed away because I’d been too scared of something that might never have happened. I’d been so sure I was making the right choice, that it was better to be unhappy and alone because as long as I had football then everything would be fine. That he would be better off without me.

I was wrong. And now everything was broken.

I just wanted to be loved.

My foot connected, and the ball soared into the top corner.

Did I not deserve to be happy? Was I supposed to make this choice for the rest of my life? Love or football. Could I not have both?

I seized another ball, trying to lose myself in the rhythm: ball down, foot strikes, score penalty. It shouldn’t be this hard.

Another ball. Another goal.

And another. And another. And another, until the bags were empty, and the net was full. I retrieved all the balls and started again. A few drops of rain landed on my cheeks, but I ignored them in favour of continuing. A little rain wouldn’t kill me. I’d played in worse.

My body obeyed but my mind was elsewhere, lost in an endless litany of thought. My mistakes played over and over, like the greatest hits of my self-inflicted misery. I’d tried to do what I thought was the right thing, and, in the end, I’d lost everything.

Because I was starting to understand that without David, nothing else mattered to me. That no matter what, he would always have been there for me because he loved me. My heart ached, and no matter how hard I tried to push the pain away, I couldn’t ignore it.

My feet were starting to burn, my overworked muscles howling as I forced myself to take shot after shot. I couldn’t stop, tears pouring down my cheeks and mixing with the heavy rain that soaked through my training top and settled into my skin.

Win or lose, I’ll always be proud of you.

David’s words echoed in my mind, the phantom press of his lips on my temple.

I wished I could turn back the clock, take everything back and hold on to him. I was never going to be perfect, but maybe with David, that wouldn’t have been so painful… because I wouldn’t have been alone. I’d never have been alone again.

“Christian?” I spun around, feet sliding on the sodden grass and suddenly found myself grasping at thin air as I clattered to the ground. Lucas Trossero’s face, pinched with concern under the canopy of a team umbrella, loomed over me.

“What are you doing? Nobody’s supposed to be in today.”

I shrugged as he offered me his hand, pulling me upright and ushering me under the umbrella with him. A shudder ran through my body, and it was only now that I was out of the direct downpour that I realised how soaked I was. My eyes were still puffy from crying, and I hoped the rain would cover them, even though it was probably incredibly obvious.

“Is this about last night?” He ran his hand through his short stubble and then reached out to grasp my shoulder. “Let’s go inside. You can’t stay out here,” he said, gently steering me towards the main building and pushing me into the dressing room.

“Sit down and I will get you a towel. I don’t want you getting sick,” said Lucas, in the sort of tone you couldn’t argue with. I did as I was told, seating myself on one of the benches and wrapping myself up in the two giant towels he handed me. He sat down next to me, letting out a sigh as his knee popped audibly. Sometimes, it was easy to forget about the multiple injuries that had put paid to his own career. I still couldn’t think of anything to say and instead ducked my head as Lucas fixed me with one of his piercing stares.

“You know, back when I played in Portugal, when I was about your age, I was always so worried. About everything. Whether I was a good player, whether I scored enough goals, whether people liked me, what the fans thought.” I glanced up at him, wondering whether my own anxiety had been that obvious, despite all my attempts to hide it, but Lucas simply rested his arms on his thighs and continued.

“One day, I missed an easy goal that I should have scored, and I was so worried afterwards. What would everyone say? Especially my coach. What would he think? And the next day, he said to me, ‘Lucas, don’t worry. You’ll score next time.’It seemed like such a silly thing to say. Of course I’d score next time because I would practice harder. But then he said, ‘But you will only score if you let go of your fear. You are so scared of your fear that you are letting it rule you.’” Lucas chuckled, shaking his head. “You and I are the same, Christian. We are so worried about letting people down, about not winning or scoring goals that we are letting our fear win. And when that happens, we will always lose.

“I’m not going to pry, but I will say that something has been on your mind lately. It’s like you are carrying something around with you that you are afraid of. And I want you to know I am always here for you. I may be your coach, but I will never judge you, and I will always listen.”

I swallowed, trying to choke back the tears and the sob building in my throat.

“I… I’m gay,” I whispered, forcing the words that had been stuck in my mouth out into the open air for the first time. “I’m gay, and I’m scared that you’ll all hate me, and you’ll say I don’t belong here. And I’ve been so scared of you finding out that I pushed away the one person who loved me more than anything. I love him so much, but now I’ve lost him, and I can’t bear to lose the team too.”

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