Diligent | alessia russo

Crucial mistake

"You know, kiddo, there's something there's something that i learned a long time ago playing soccer."

My dad decided it was a good idea to have a bonding day. The plan was for the four of us to go out as a family together and do something entertaining that we all enjoyed. But plans fell through when we couldn't agree what to do.

Since everyone had their own idea of 'fun', the one thing we agreed on was val and my mom went out to get their nails done and shop with my grandma.

My dad was always monotone. Rarely spoke nor showed emotion so seeing him have a good connection with my grandpa was memorable.

The pair both bonded over the love of the sport and that's how we ended up here. My grandpa wearing his cap and gloves on the goal line, intercepting any and every incoming ball.

My dad being the defender marked me as i make my way to the box.

"What is it?" I asked as i tried to calm my heavy breaths.

"Every shot we don't take is a miss."

"What do you mean?"

The man gave me a soft smile and pointed between the ball and me, "I mean it's better to try and fail than to never try at all. If you never take the shot, you'll never know if you made it. It's all about taking risks, putting yourself out there, even if it means you fall short sometimes."

"So, even if i miss, i at least tried? Wouldn't the coach be upset if i tried and missed?"

"Exactly. Because the only way to succeed is to keep attempting, keep pushing even when it's tough. You'll fail but eventually succeed. And besides, wouldn't the coach be more upset if you missed an opportunity? You play in midfield. What's your task?"

"Assist, Score, Create chances?" I answered with an unsure shrug.

"Exactly. And hey, what's important is you tried, no? I'll always support you whether you score a rocket or absolutely flunk it."

I laughed lightly with a nod, "Thanks, dad. I'll remember that next time."

"That's my girl. Now, let's go practice some shots. Who knows? maybe you'll surprise yourself."

We reset our positions and i was back running at my dad. Since he was a right-back, he could detain the fastest and most skillful players. And if he could to them, he would with me.

His body was angled perfectly at me every skill move i performed and was difficult to shake off.
"Remember, this is a contact sport. Shrug 'em off."

As he pushed his body against mine, i used my hand to give myself a bit of space. His larger frame easily overpowered mine. "Don't give me space or i'll just-"

He stuck his foot out and easily cleared it out. I huffed as he made a restart motion with his pointer fingers.

We went again and i feinted him to the left and sprinted forward. When i looked back he was quick to catch up and i saw him ready to go for a slide tackle so i took a shot. Over the bar.

"No mames, y/n." (No way, Y/n.)

Over and over again we continued but it was no use.

"This isn't fair! You were a semi-pro! I'm comfortable where i am. I play against girls. Not a man almost six and a half feet tall with the body of arnold schwarzenegger. I'm comfortable at the rank i am. I'm 11!"

"Do you expect to go pro playing against sunday league players?"

"You're one, too." I mumbled in annoyance.