you're on your own, kid

Chapter 8 - An Olympic Shitshow

Before the Olympics, we were set to verse Norway in a friendly game, before heading across the world to Tokyo. I had never been to Japan before and even though I was excited, I knew it would be hard. It was suspected to be incredibly strict. The Covid rules meant that no crowds were going to be in the stands, and no family would be able to make the journey.

It was our team's first Olympics, and it was to be difficult. We all knew that.

We went to camp mid mid-June, and I settled with the girls around me. I could move my mind away from what was happening in Germany and focus on the here, and the now. I could focus on this team. My team.

"Guess who we are playing tomorrow!" I said to Jill, as we lay on my bed.

"You're so stupid."

"No, I am not."

"Yes, you are." She hit a pillow over my face, and I nearly fell off the bed.

"You are going to regret that Jill Jamie Ro-" but the door soon started to knock, and after a quick glare to Jill, I stood up to open the door to Viv who came walking through.

"Why is there a pillow in your hand?" Viv asked.

"I was smacking Jill over the head with it," I replied, earnestly.

"Oh. Alright. Well, don't let me stop you." I ran over to Jill before jumping on her and smashing the pillow on her face.

"But how are you feeling?" I asked Jill. "Are you guys official yet?"

"No, Milly. Not at all. We're just talking." I saw Viv's look, and I knew there was more that Jill was too scared to say. Scared that if she did, it would all turn to shreds.

"Hm, if you say so."

The next day we went out to play against the Norwegians.

I sat in the locker room beforehand, looking at my jersey with the 7 and Bakker printed so clearly. So effortlessly. Maybe things would feel different if my real last name was there. But I knew that thought was far gone now. It was too late for change.

I started on the right, with Viv as the central striker. Jill was in the midfield, along with Daan, and Lieke. Our team had world-class players all along the pitch, and we knew we had to make the last few weeks with Sarina worth it. We wanted to win the gold for her. There was so much for us to achieve.

Coming up against Norway, we had things to prove.

Eva Valtersen was in the midfield, with Ingrid and Frida Maanum. Them three alone could be an unstoppable trio. But Norway's defense was always their downfall.

We scored first. Jill cut the ball through to Viv who finished so cleanly. I scored the second, just before halftime. I was supposed to cross it into the box from the wing, but it fell into the goal. I tried claiming that it was on purpose, but all the girls knew, laughing as we celebrated.

In the second half, Norway had a point to prove. Eva Valtersen streamed the ball down the pitch, moving to her left wing. I went in for a tackle, pushing the ball out for a throw-in. She was on the ground; not rolling around, or doing anything too dramatic, but just sitting still.

"Sorry," I said, giving her my hand, but she didn't take it. She smiled at me, as if to tell me that she wasn't angry, but stood up herself, and the game soon continued.

Viv scored again, giving us a 3-0 lead, but not before Jill scored a goal of her own.

We won the game convincingly, after an own goal from one of their defenders, and Daan got one for herself.

After the match, we shook everyone's hands, besides Eva's to which Ingrid told me not to worry about. There's a deeper story there than anyone would realize, and I knew in situations like that not to question. Everyone has their demons. It is not my place to question those.