More Than A Game

CHAPTER TWENTY: THE PLAYBOOK 📑

NIGHT OF THE CHAMPIONSHIP

  I ran as quickly as my legs could carry me towards my daughter who had been hit on the head by the soccer ball sending her body plummeting heavily onto the earth.

I shook her continuously, her name escaping with desperation from my lips, but she did not respond, how could she? her face lay motionless, swollen and reddened with impact.

Panic engulfed me.
I called unto the first aiders, who rushed out immediately, arms pulling out a stretcher, lifting her body onto it with caution.

I put my cold hands feebly against hers and she held it tightly, raising her head slightly to look at me.

My breathing hitched.

"Dad... Did I stop the ball?"
She asks, her smile unfaltering. I nodded my head in affirmation.

Was this what all this was about?
Stopping a ball from entering the net?
Was this why she had tried her hardest and pushed herself despite all odds?

"Yes you did dear. We even scored a goal in the process.
You and Joan make a good team..."

Lucky lifted her other hand into the air half way in triumph. Her last words ringing in my ear.

"I hope you're proud of me now dad."

As they took her off to the infirmary, my heart laced with worry.
What in heavens did she mean?
I had always been proud of her.

I was, and I still am.

-----

Jeremy had gone completely haywire.

I knew this man was mad all along, but this time, as he said words that spat me on the face, as he screamed on the top of his lungs for something as utterly useless as an offside goal, I could not help but think my lowest of him even more.

He was nothing but a raging mad man, never ceasing to cause a scene and upset every other person around.

"You should train this kids with iron fists coach Salazar! Are your bones getting too weak to do so? This is completely unacceptable."

His words were like a slap on the face, I flinched in terror, for a moment silent, unspoken words leaving a bland taste in my mouth.

The whistle went again for Jeremy to return to his seat, but he was adamant as expected, and just when the referee was about to walk up to him, Ivan's voice ripped through the air, face as red hot as my anger.

"DAD! GET BACK TO YOUR SEAT!"

For a moment there was silence, only the slight chattering of the crowd and the tension about, thick enough to be cut with a knife.

Jeremy turned his neck to face an angered Ivan, face evident with surprise, but legs still following the boy when he walked out of the field in a huff.

I sighed heavily to myself.

Where on earth would I get a defender now?
My fingers scratched my hair under my cap nervously, sinking deeply into my thoughts.

The referee turned to me soon enough, asking if I was alright.
I was not, but I nodded in affirmative, only to receive another shock of my life by the same man, notifying me that I had less than a minute for my defender to show up, or he would have no other choice but to give the win to the other team.

I stood, confused and frozen to place.
Was the game already over?
Was all our hard-work thwarted by one single man?
The man that sought to replace me at any means possible?

"Raptors! Raptors! When we fight!"
"Raptors! Raptors! we give all our might!"

The voice was loud and laced with a thick Spanish accent, very familiar indeed.
I tilted my head to look up curiously, and sure enough, there she stood, the silver lining in the clouds; Maria, a banner in her hands that read the words; "Go champion.", her voice loud and sharp, face painted to match the team logo.

"R-A-P-T-O-R-S!"
"When you hear our name, you know it's game time!"

I arched my brows, my lips parting in awe as I watched her lead the entire auditorium that were in support of our team on the chant, voices resounding through my ears.

My head seemed to spin, and just then, I felt the ground tremble beneath my feet.
The thunder struck once again, icy breeze blowing through my hair and face.

I watched Ivan dribble a few opponents like a pro, his legs sturdy and powerful, blonde hair swept across his face by the wind.

He shot the ball and with a speed of lighting, it went past the ear of the keeper and into the net, tying the scores.

The entire auditorium of cheering parents screamed the classic world "Goal!" As the team members, both those on the field and in the waiting area swooped in to lift Ivan sky high, his first fingers pointing into the air like he was famous.

I could not help but laugh, all my anger, fear, anxiety and frustration melting into a single tear.

This was not a field of people who played in a team, but individuals who played AS a team.
A family united by their love and passion for one thing—Football.

The jubilation was cut short however when the thunder clapped violently above us, giving way to a shower, that was as heavy and windy as it was sudden.

For a while everyone stood still, uniforms soaking underneath the windy sky.

The announcer darted out his megaphone, and soon enough, everyone began to scamper in different directions like rodents running from a predator.

The announcer's voice was audible enough, although mostly muffled by the heavy drops of rain.

"Teammates should retire to the gym hall and get their things, I repeat return to the gym hall and get your things. We cannot proceed the game in such circumstances and I advice you comply to the instruction given and be patient before your parents pick you up. Thank you, Gracias and merci beaucoup."