Page 92 of Dominate
Booker’s hand grabs hold of Camden’s free hand, and I see Cam exhale heavily before finally accepting Tanner’s.
Feeling our squad pressing in behind us, I shout out, “Three Lions, are you ready?”
“Ready!” they all shout back.
“Three Lions, are you fit?”
“Fit!”
“Three Lions, are you fierce?”
“Fierce!”
“Three Lions, let me hear you roar!”
They holler a loud roar behind me, and over top of their cheers, I shout, “Then let’s go out there with our heads held high, our bodies full of endurance, and our hearts ready to challenge! We will not surrender. We will dominate because we are the keepers of this game!”
They chant “Three Lions” over and over behind us as we walk slow and steady out of the tunnel and onto the pitch, where the deafening roar of the crowd surrounds all of our senses and we prepare for the game of our lives.
Before the game begins, I look up into the crowd and find my entire family standing tall in England team shirts. Dad, Vi, Hayden, Rocky, Indie, Belle, and Poppy.
Poppy’s parents kept the twins, Oliver and Teddy, back in London as they’ve been helping her with them while Booker has been away. Especially since they are both much too small to even remotely enjoy the game. And, let’s face it, Rocky is too young to understand it as well, but Vi says her obsession has to start somewhere, and what better place than at the World Cup final game.
And what a final game it is.
Not even the light downpour of rain we experience twenty minutes into the match can dampen the energy of our squad on this day. England controls the ball for the majority of the first half. Camden and Tanner volley back and forth like there is a string attached between the two of them. France’s defence and keeper have their work cut out for them as the twins take shot after shot, pulling back to Hobo in midfield several times only to come to the net again.
Finally, after a high pass from Tanner to Camden, Cam scoop kicks the ball into the back right corner over the keeper’s hands, breaching the scoreboard one-nil.
The second half is when things really get hairy. France readjusted some things during halftime, so Booker and I have our work cut out for us to keep the ball out of the box. We hold firm for the first twenty minutes, but an unstoppable penalty shot brings France back to tie us with fifteen minutes left in the game.
A few minutes later, in a wide and fast breakaway run, Tanner fakes a pass to Camden and chips in a high, floating shot that hits the post flush and drops back into the net. To the crowd’s delight, the twins go wild, dancing like complete wankers on either side of the goal post. At one point, Camden reels in Tanner like a fish. It is bloody ridiculous…and brilliant.
We’re leading two-to-one with only two minutes left in the game. France is all over our end of the pitch, and I stop two goal attempts before Booker finally scoops one up and boots the game back to the other side.
With less than a minute to go, Tanner takes a hard and fast high shot that bounces off the top pole and back out into the box. As if Camden knew the shot was going to be too high, he’s right there in the box and leaps up impossibly high toward the deflection, giving the round leather a header to the far left side of the open net.
The keeper’s gloves reach out and graze the side…
“Goal!” shouts Booker from behind me, and the crowd erupts into cheers.
Camden falls to the ground, covering his face in the grass, obviously overwhelming even himself with his luck. It’s complete pandemonium in the arena when the ref blows the whistle three times and signals the end of the game.
I turn and lay eyes on Booker, who runs out of the box, straight into my arms. I lift him up off the ground and release him swiftly as we both go tearing down the pitch toward the rest of our team, piling on top of Camden and Tanner. We hug our outside teammates, cheering alongside all of them. By the time the twins are released from the pack, Tanner has Cam tossed over his shoulder. He sees me and Booker and sets Cam down, his face bending with emotion as I pull them all into a giant embrace. The four of us stand in a circle, arms wrapped around each other’s necks, heads pressed together, and smiles wide as we take a quiet moment to absorb the exhilarating experience we’re sharing together.
The voice over the speaker is screaming, “England has won the World Cup! England has won the World Cup! England is the champion of the world!”
By the time we break apart, Booker is full-on crying, so I pull him under my armpit and ruffle his hair. The coaching staff comes up behind us and we accept hugs from them all the while photographers and camera operators swarm around us.
After embracing nearly every member of the team, I turn around and clap eyes on Sloan and Sophia walking out onto the pitch with my family. I move through the swarm of cameras, ignoring Camden and Indie snogging and Tanner lifting Belle up into his arms. Poppy and Booker are face-to-face, holding each other’s cheeks and talking softly to one another.
Dad, Vi, Hayden, and Rocky are crying and hugging everyone, one at a time, but I only have eyes for my fiancée and my number one fan.
Sloan leans down and points me out to Sophia, whose eyes are wide and watery as she takes in the masses of people flocking the field. She turns and finally sees me. Then, the little brown-eyed stunner begins sobbing. Huge, wet tears pour from her eyes as she releases her mother’s hand and runs in a dead sprint right for me.
I drop to my knees and catch her, holding her shaking body against me as she becomes completely overwhelmed by everything surrounding us. I can’t blame her. The deafening cheers and the tender embraces are enough to make even a grown man cry.
I stand up with Sophia wrapped around my hips and I’m now eye level with Sloan, who’s also a teary mess.
