Page 54 of Winning Match
“Listen up.” Our coach, Javi, steps onto the bus. He gives the driver a nod and the doors close before the bus starts toward the plane. “We only have one week in Portugal. During this time, we will have two-a-days every day except Wednesday and Friday when we will play friendlies against two different teams…” he continues to explain the schedule of the training camp and the team settles down.
We give Coach our full attention, board the plane to Portugal, and settle in for the short flight.
Before takeoff, I pull out my phone to change it to airplane mode and grin at the message on my screen.
Marli
Safe travels, Ale. Good luck this week.
Alejandro
Gracias. We’re taking off now. Call if you need anything. I mean it.
Marli
Don’t worry about me. Focus on your game!
Alejandro
Go back to sleep, mi niña. It’s too early.
Marli
I’m going for a run in Turia with Bianca.
Alejandro
Be safe.
Marli
Always
Sighing, I turn my phone to airplane mode and drop my head back, closing my eyes.
For years, entanglements with women meant drama and trouble. Now, I’m wondering whether I’ve been short-sighted. Because with Marlowe at my side, everything seems possible. Have I spent the last decade missing out?
“Passa, passa,” Luca hollers in Italian as I pass him the ball.
I run upfield, crossing into the penalty box, as Luca maneuvers around two defenders before kicking the ball to me. It’s a beautiful cross and my foot connects with the ball before it touches the ground. I volley it toward the top left corner of the net where it sails over Andrés’s outstretched arms.
Goal!
Luca slaps my shoulder. “Bel tiro,” he grunts in Italian. Nice shot.
“Sigue así!” Carlos hollers. Keep it up.
We get back into our positions as the session continues. It’s at least another two hours of a match simulation with the coaches stopping the play several times to relay instructions and indicate areas for improvement.
By the time the “game” is over, we’re all drenched in sweat, breathing hard, and exhausted.
Coach grins as he holds up a clipboard. “Welcome back, chicos.”
Carlos snorts. Andrés shakes his head, standing near the edge of the group, his hands on his hips.
“Go eat lunch. Afterwards, we’re meeting for video analysis. And don’t forget, you all have a yoga session this evening,” Coach continues.
A few whines ring out, but Coach ignores them.
