imbalance | trent alexander-arnold¹

two.

The french player inhaled, slowly exhaling out the warm Liverpool air. She did a few knee jumps to help her heart rate sped up a bit. Though it was only a practice match, Wynter felt pressure to do well because now would be the first time that the guys would judge her athletic abilities up close. Now wasn't the time for her to suddenly flunk up and fail—her team needed to win.

She smiled brightly as she put on her neon yellow bib when she got to play in her comfortable position, the role of the second striker/winger to Bobby's left. Some commentators like to see her left foot usability as a weakness. What most people didn't know about Wynter was that she could use both legs without any kind of struggle.

When both teams finally got in formation, the mini-match began with the other team starting with the ball. Andy started with the ball close to his feet before he passed it to James, who began to dribble the ball closer to their opponents. At first, the match started slowly. Only a few calm passes here and there, strikers taking safe shots, defenders effectively knocking the ball away from their goal, but none of the action got Winter's heart beating out of her chest. She only had the ball at her feet a few times and so the chances to lead her team to a victory were very limited.

It wasn't until the opposing team were awarded a corner that would be taken by the young scouse. As Trent got himself ready, an idea popped up in Wynter's mind. She didn't know if it would work or not, but there wasn't any harm in trying. While everyone was getting themselves marked up with another player, the french girl realised that no one seemed interested with her so she was left wide open. She quickly made her way over to Virgil.

"Hey, um, Virgil. I was thinking that if you could try and head the ball this way so then I or Bobby can do a sprint and score a goal," Wynter whispered, not wanting the others to hear. "If that makes any sense."

"Yeah, yeah. No problem," Virgil nodded, agreeing. "Go out wide."

The season-named girl jogged to her position with her hair tied back, frontal curls stuck against her sticky forehead. Trent raised his arm signalling he was ready and kicked the ball with force, sending it towards the far left of the penalty box. Somehow, Virgil successfully found the ball and headed it to Fabinhio who sent it to Jordan. With such short passes, the other team's defence were beginning to come together again, but Wynter didn't allow them to stop her plans.

Jordan ran off with the ball down the pitch. Soon defenders were closing upon him so he sent a long pass to Bobby, who was about to be halted by Trent who'd somehow caught up. Just when Trent was about to deflect the ball, the Brazilian swiftly flicked the ball over the defender, crossing it over to Wynter herself.

And then it was all up to her. When the ball approached her, she stopped and controlled it with the inner part of her left foot. With that, she sprinted with the ball at her feet. As she approached the penalty area, Wynter smiled to herself as she thought of her usual football trick she would do on goalkeepers. She approached the area, seeming as though she'd shoot with her right foot so the goalkeeper aimed to stop the ball from the left side of the goal. However, she psyched him out by smoothly changing foot and nicely scored in the upper right corner.

When she witnessed the ball hit the back of the net, she ran over to Bobby's with a stupid smile of her face. The pair met each other halfway with their arms up and high fived, which turned into a loose hug.

"Nice work there, Wynter. I think I'll get used to working with you." The Brazilian smiled as he pulled away from the hug.

"Thanks and you too." Wynter laughed, a sudden rush of happiness coming over her.

Just then, Virgil appeared. "Nice shot, little one. Your idea worked perfectly," he smiled, swiftly grabbing her and ruffled her curls.

"Thanks but why are you calling me little one? I'm not even that short." Wynter exclaimed, fixing her hair.