by Tara Wimble
Even if they wanted to dwell and wallow they can’t, John won’t let them. It’s time to look onwards and upwards. To scout the competition they might face further down the road.
They’re all gathered in the large conference room of their hotel in Montreal waiting for the kick off the final United States group match against Australia.
Jacque’s snagged prime seats at the front of the room and she’s got Jan sat on her left and there’s a saved seat on her right for Bella when she’s done chatting with Niav a few rows back.
And on her lap is a delicious looking family sized bowl of popcorn, specifically approved by John and the fitness staff. She almost can’t even wait for the start of the match to try it.
Almost.
“Is that popcorn?” Dri asks as she grabs it out of her hands. “It is!”
She makes off with the bowl before Jacque even has a chance to protest and she’s already out of reach by the time Jacque can react to go after her.
To be young again.
“It was my popcorn.” Jacque mutters under her breath and the reassuring pat on the shoulder she gets from Jan can hardly make up for the robbery that just occurred.
And then Bella sidles up next to her laughing. “Did Dri just steal our popcorn?”
Jacque nods solemnly. “She did.”
“You just got robbed by a child.” Bella pats her on the other shoulder and sits in the empty chair next to her.
“Did not.” Jacque mumbles but it’s for naught, the popcorn is gone and currently being enjoyed by the younger players who’ve congregated towards the back of the room.
Bella puts her arm around the back of her chair and ruffles her hair playfully, it’s still a little bit wet and Jacque mentally bemoans how it’s going to stick in weird shapes if Bella continues. Only mentally though because she’d be crazy to actually care too much.
It doesn’t matter because everyone fills in rapidly as the last moments elapse and the game is underway.
She expects it to be daunting to watch the Americans play. After all this time it’s still the one hurdle they’ve never truly been able to clear. Their Achilles heel.
It’s no wonder why.
They’re like a well oiled machine firing on all cylinders. The Australians are by no means puny competition but the Americans possess an arsenal that will honestly be difficult for any squad to contend with.
But instead of fear she feels this eerie sense of calm. Maybe it’s her impending retirement but there’s no reason to be afraid because unless something insane happens and the Americans finish second in their group they can only meet in the final.
And to be in the final, let alone against the Americans, would be a career achievement in and of itself.
BC Place, full capacity, a sea of red.
It’s too soon to think that far but she looks around and she can see it. She sees it in people’s eyes and they’re thinking it to.
The United States crushes Australia 4-0 but there’s an aura in the room. This doesn’t scare them it makes them want to play even harder. To win.
To get to that final.
*
World Cup Quarter Finals: Canada 3 - 1 France
3-1. Three minutes left and Bella’s probably just sealed the deal on knocking France out of the Quarter finals.
The Quarter freaking Finals.
Her team is going crazy around her and she knows that she’s being pulled up by several different hands but she can barely breathe, let alone join in. It was her first start of the tournament and as much as she prepared for it, nothing can really help to set her up for the pace and the long haul the matches take you through.
“Goal! Bella Ansar!”
The goal knocked the last of her energy out of her. She can barely even hear Sophie’s burst of joy or feel Whemb throwing her arm around her shoulder.
The faces of her former French teammates, Les Bleues, and the despair in their expressions as they all come to realize that nothing short of a miracle will see them come back now.
They have fought the same fight, poured sweat, blood and some tears onto the same turf that they have but the end has come and it’s Bella and the rest of Canada that is still standing.
When the whistle blows the noise is deafening.
Bella still can’t catch her breath or stand steady on her feet because the time has run out and they’re into the semis. She stumbles to the side, searching, she knows that she has hugs to dish out to her team and to those they’ve beaten but she spots a familiar face in the crowd and that’s where she heads.
Jake, her mom and close friends are waving a homemade banner in the front row behind the team benches and Bella almost trips over the barrier to get to them. A mass of fans converge on her family, only to be pushed off by those around them to keep order. She can barely reach up, her ribs burning, to grab the end of the Canadian flag her mom waves.
“I’m so proud of you!”
Bella’s voice gets lost in cracking tears and an immovable smile. She can’t find the words to express how much it means that they’re here for this. Or even that her mom is the one waving the Canadian flag.
Jake looks choked up himself but he holds it back and dangerously leans over to grab onto her hand. “We’ll catch you after the game- so proud of you, so proud-”
Her mom relinquishes the flag and Bella drapes it around her neck like a scarf, making her way back to the field and to the celebrations and commiserations.
As much as she wants to dive into the huddle with a few of her teammates, she comes across most of the French team on her way back. She finds her way to Laure first, who she beat to goal, pulling her into a quick hug that helps to lighten her former teammate’s expression. There’s not much else she can do when the result has gone their way.
Bella doesn’t linger for too long. The more she walks through French players, the more she comes across her team. Carla being spun around by Sadie. Imogen on the field with her camera. Niav and Desi running at the sidelines with John. Jacque embracing Whemb. She dives into the fray.
Reporters vie for attention and Bella gives sound bites and quotes with Whemb in a daze of blistering happiness. When she watches the play back later she won’t remember saying any of this.
It doesn’t matter.
They’re headed to the Semi-Finals.
*
The two hour drive from Ottawa to Montreal gets out of the way immediately after the dust has settled from their big win and then they have four days and no travel to sustain them until the semi’s.
John gives them the next day off as a reward and because he understands the importance of getting a day to appreciate the success they’ve already achieved and loosen up to try to take on even more.
Somehow all of those good intentions turn into a dance off in the conference room of their hotel.
Kathryn brings the intent and the music and dubs this their recovery session.
She also dubs herself a judge and citing their expertise Desi and Lauren join her.
Everyone else is relegated to the area they’ve cleared of tables and chairs and await their rules and instructions.
Oliv crosses her arms. “I can’t remember the last time I saw Lauren dance.” She mutters. “I don’t think lap dancing counts.”
Lauren doesn’t verbally respond but draws a huge ‘minus 5’ on the paper they’re using to score the dancers with.
Kathryn starts the music and it’s pumping so loudly throughout the room that Niav goes outside to make sure no one is around to complain. Bella hears Carla sigh. “She’s definitely not coming back.”
Bella looks wistfully at the door and then back at the dance floor where Jacque has already started, well, technically it’s dancing.
“Freestyle!” Is the first instruction called out.
Freestyle is the least free dancing they can do when Drake’s ‘Best I Ever Had’ comes on. There’s not much any of them can do but try and make their way through the closet hip hop moves th
ey can manage without embarrassing themselves.
It doesn’t work for Jacque.
The key for Bella is to keep the showboating to a minimum. Not that she’s taking this seriously or anything. But only someone like Oliv, who doesn’t really care what she looks like because she’s doing it right, can get away with that much confidence. Otherwise you end up-
Well, dancing like Jacque.
The song cuts off around a minute in, once Kathryn and the judges have had their laughs and written their marks down, and switches to something else. Their prompt is ‘Taylor Swift Moves’ and they spend a good few minutes making clunky thrusting moves with their heads and air guitaring at a speed that suits heavy metal rather than country girl.
Bella is sure that she’s docked points for not having curly hair.
“The worm!” Kathryn announces loudly over the music.
That’s where she draws the line. “I swear to God, Jacque if you put your hands on the floor and-”
“I’m doing it!” Jacque yells back in protest and Bella has to turn away because she can’t watch it.
Desi calls out Bella’s six point deduction for not participating in this section. She loses three more along with Oliv when they both question if there’s any dancing involved for ‘One Direction Stage Moves’ and not just jumping up and down.
‘Gangnam Style’ is basically just a terrifying exercise in what some of their teammates would look like if they were having a seizure. Bella is sure she’s managed to regain some of her points by actually remembering more than the arm movements.
“Waltzing!”
“What?” Bella’s head shoots up. “You go from gangam style to waltzing? Where’s the logic!”
“There isn’t any!” Kathryn shouts back.
Jacque beelines for her and Bella has a small panic attack at the thought of dancing with her that she closes her eyes and doesn’t realize Jacque’s been beaten to the punch by Oliv grabbing her up instead.
“No fair!” Jacque protests. Bella gets swept away before some sort of scuffle goes down and she’s tugged between them, and Oliv dances away with her victoriously.
“Too slow Liresch!”
“Is this how you get all your boyfriends?” Bella deadpans as Oliv leads them. Jacque rushes towards an uncooperative Carla to keep within the time for this part of the dance-off.
Oliv chuckles. “Used to.”
Carla and Jacque seem to be flinging themselves around the room and calling it a waltz, so if anything they’re only getting points for effort.
Extreme effort.
The song changes to Beyonce’s latest ballad and Kathryn confers with her judges, Desi and Lauren, before announcing the next category. “Awkward junior prom dancing!”
Bella balks. “WHAT?”
In Oliv’s distraction to change from overdramatic waltzing to awkward prom Jacque ditches Carla, to her relief, and cuts in.
“Oh, you choose now to cut in?” Bella scoffs. “At ‘awkward junior prom’?”
Jacque places her hands on Bella’s waist with all the rigid finesse of a teenage boy. “Um, this is our comfort zone. What are you talking about?”
“I am getting flashbacks.” Bella mock shivers, only stopping when Jacque threatens to dip her again.
“Except this time I can sneak upstairs with you to make out while no one is watching.” Jacque mutters under her breath and Bella almost calls the whole thing off.
Especially because junior prom escalates to after party dancing pretty quickly after that.
Bella blushes for all of three seconds at Jacque’s wandering hands until she spots Kathryn pointing her phone in their direction and realizes that the next dance move hasn’t been called. “HEY! Stop putting this on Instagram!”
Her protesting only inspires a badly sung rendition of ‘She Keeps Me Warm’ from Lauren until Sadie forces them all to stop by taking over and stealing the limelight. Then everything breaks down.
For a second, in the middle of their makeshift dance floor, Bella thinks this is what their wedding would have looked like with the whole team there. And if it was quickly thrown together in a hotel function room without a cake.
Sadie overpowers the music playing and within seconds the whole team, even Whemb, is up singing and converging on the remaining dancing couples. Bella gets crushed against Jacque’s body in the middle, laughing when she sneaks a kiss in the confusion.
Their fun is broken up when John comes into the room smirking. “There’s been a noise complaint.”
“By who?”
Niav sneaks back into the room with coffee and sits next to Carla.
“Anonymous source.” John shrugs and Kathryn shuts off the music. “Did you have fun at least?”
There’s a chorus of agreement and then a few grumbled, sarcastic ‘no’s’ which may just be Carla saying it twice.
Kathryn quickly glances between her scorecard and Desi and Lauren’s. “Jacque’s our winner!”
Jacque fist pumps joyfully and Bella can only lean her head defeatedly against Jacque’s shoulder, now her flailing is validated.
Oliv demands a recount of votes claiming fangirl bias but they’ve all moved on and John has the floor.
“Good then!” John claps his hands, always encumbered with a hint of eternal optimism.
There’s nothing anybody can really do but smile. This is it, they’re in Montreal and they’re about to play in the semi’s of a World Cup.
Their opponent awaits and they’ve never felt more together.
*
World Cup Semi Final; Montreal, Canada.
Germany blows by Japan with a one-nothing victory and books a spot in the semi finals. They’re suddenly put in a position that Bella hoped they wouldn’t see again.
Facing Nadine Angerer and the German team once again.
Oliv glances over at her from the other end of the locker room like she has been since they watched Okoyino da Mbabi blast their only goal past Fukumoto. She wants her to stop. Not because it’s annoying her but because it’s making her anxiety jump to levels that can’t be pushed down by holding her ring.
John’s prepared them as well as he can. They watched the game they played in the group stage against Germany, pointing out all their flaws and what they needed to do better. Bella cringed over her missed penalty and John made it very clear that if something like that happened again they better listen to who he orders to take it. There’s no room for mistakes anymore.
They spent the two days they had on rest and recovery. John took them through a session at the stadium in Edmonton to get used to the ground again.
Then it was back to the hotel. Back to tactics and stretches and getting a lot of sleep. Bella shared a room with Desi and tried to keep her tossing and turning to a minimum but Desi must have spilled because Oliv still looks at her.
Walking into the locker room half an hour ago began her routine. She had carefully laid out her cleats and her socks before putting on her shorts and undershirt. Jacque had dressed beside her. Three and four together. She’d left the red jersey until after she’d gone to get taped up by the trainers. Coming back she put on her socks, her cleats and then the jersey.
Ansar. Three.
John isn’t starting her. Citing her performance against France was something they needed to boost them after halftime. Bella knows, in the sinking part of her stomach, that it’s because she missed in the first game. Because Angerer’s in her head.
Maybe sitting on the bench will calm her nerves in time.
Whemb doesn’t have any words to say to them this time. What’s done is done. What’s needed is waiting for them out there to rise up and take. They will make or break this game.
They wait until it’s time to walk out with their arms around each other, standing in a circle with their heads bowed. Bella hopes that they’ll have a song to sing when they come in here in ninety or more minutes. Bella hopes that she’ll be able to see clearly when she steps up to play. She hopes and she prays wi
th her head down and Jacque standing solid next to her.
And then they’re walking in the tunnel. Lining up beside the German team before they’re called out. Angerer is up top, next to Sadie, so Bella doesn’t have the flinching response that she felt in her stomach last time. However that might be something to do with the noise.
The singing.
She hears it ringing in a beautiful mesh of voices. Canada. Canada. Everyone’s backs straighten and they walk out into it.
There’s more than a shiver of glorious expectation. That the heights they’ve reached so far is nothing to what they can reach. Bella joins the rest of the substitutes standing by the bench while the starting eleven make their way out.
Bella’s never heard the national anthem sung so loud. It echoes in every corner, from every person who calls this place home, and inspires them all.
The steadfast determination is set.
Whemb shakes Angerer’s hand and wins the toss. They call the goal.
And the game kicks off.
Jacque and the rest of the backline are put to the test with almost every advance. The crowd follows them up and down with every run that’s cut off by a tackle and every shot saved. Sadie gives them no breathing room. She is on the defense to step up, just as she’s on herself to block every attack and push away every half chance.
Bella sits with her fists balled up, her nails digging into her palms and Jacque’s ring swaying on the chain in front of her.
The breath she holds is knocked from her in the twenty-second minute when Okoyino streaks past Niav, who slipped on the turf, and curls one past Sadie’s fingertips.
Sadie’s frustration becomes the crowds. The emotions are amplified by the sixty thousand people in the stands. It ripples through them all.
Okoyino becomes their undoing fifteen minutes later when she exposes a failed pass from Sophie to Carla and takes of sprinting. Bella actually stands with Imogen, yelling, as she spots the trail coming from Marozsán.
Sadie has to make a decision.
Marozsán punishes the mistake. Germany go two up and the fire that they’d stoked throughout the tournament threatens to crackle out.
Forty five minutes come and go and though they’re losing, Whemb refuses to bow her head as they trail into the locker rooms. That’s what John runs with.