When Coach appeared beside me, he clamped his hand down on my shoulder. “You sure you’re ready to give all this up?” he asked.
“Yeah. I’m ready.”
“I knew you’d say that. I was hoping you wouldn’t, but I knew you would.” He chuckled before leaving me there in the shadows by myself.
A few more minutes being the nostalgic sucker I’d become, and then I’d head back into the locker room to get ready. I still had warmups to do and to change into my uniform. Not to mention, the strapping my ankle was depending on just to get me through the game.
Time flew and before I realised it, we were being ushered onto the field. The crowd roared from the stands when we were introduced, and I felt a burst of pride. Glancing around, the purple of the jerseys, hats, banners, and scarves made the stadium look like a lavender field. And we weren’t even the home team.
The referee blew the whistle and the game was on.
It was tough.
It was brutal.
It was dirty.
By half time we were down two players due to injury, and the other team already had one player red carded and sitting the rest of the match out. I don’t know what bug had crawled up their arse, but they were being wankers about it. I’d spent years playing all around the world and not one game had been as underhanded and sly as this one. The sledging was epically harsh. At one point I’d had to reprimand one of my own teammates for sinking to their level and giving back as good as he was getting. Not that I could blame him. Some of the shit coming out of their mouths was absolutely disgusting.
The second half wasn’t much better. My ribs were sore from the constant elbowing I was copping, and I couldn’t even feel my little toe. It’d been stepped on so many times I was surprised it was still attached. It wasn’t until I was tripped and sent flying onto my face while the ball was on the other side of the field that I finally snapped. I was beyond livid. But that wasn’t the problem. My knee seized and I couldn’t run. I could barely walk.
Over the years I’d been sidelined with all sorts of injuries. Everyone spent at least some time riding the pine wrapped in ice, but this was different. I don’t know if it was the pain shooting up my leg or the fury bubbling through my veins that had me trying to convince them to let me hobble back onto the field and give the smug little shit who’d nailed me what he deserved. Bloody trainers and doctors wrapping me in ice were refusing to let me move though.
Thankfully, the game ended in a pathetic nil–all draw and everyone was flat. Besides licking our wounds, we hadn’t even gotten the win. Had we at least won the game it would’ve been a whole different story. Been worth it. But no, we couldn’t even do that. Man, I was over losing. And if anyone tried to tell me a draw was as good as a win, they might just get their teeth rattled the way I was feeling now.
After a quick shower, we got our gear and everyone loaded onto the bus. Everyone except me and Marianne, the PR Nazi.
“You’re not joining us?” Harry asked, stopping on the step and causing everyone to bump into each other.
“Nah. Got a sponsor thing tomorrow. Flying back Monday,” I explained.
It didn’t surprise me they didn’t know. I didn’t flout the fact that I had sponsorship deals and endorsements. Many of the guys bustling onto the bus would give their left nut for a shoe deal or even a razor commercial, and I couldn’t blame them. It was definitely one of the perks of this job. One I wasn’t about to bitch and moan about. I wasn’t embarrassed about having them. Some of the companies I was associated with, I’d been with for years, and they were good to me. They’d ridden the highs and lows along with me and we’d both made some decent money out of our relationship. But even that was drawing to a close. Sighing heavily, I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d even be able to recognise my own life once this was all done. Walking away from the game was one thing, but to me it wasn’t just a game. It was my life. The only life I’d known for as long as I could remember. What would happen when it was no longer part of me? What would I be like? Who would I be? I guess I was about to find out.
After agreeing to meet Marianne for dinner, I jumped into the back of an Uber and headed to the hotel. As much as I’d protested and told the doctors and other busy bodies my knee was fine, my leg was aching. I was dying to get inside and sit down. Ignoring the chatter around me, I wound my way through the mass of people with suitcases trying to check in before I jumped in the elevator.
My phone rang as soon as the green lights flickered on the lock to my room. Ignoring it, I headed into the room, dumped my bag, and stepped into the bathroom and stripped off. Sitting down on the closed toilet seat, I carefully peeled off my sweatpants and had a look at my angry knee. Nothing looked out of place. It was pale, but that more than likely had something to do with the ice that’d been taped to it for the past half an hour. Bending it back and forth, I listened to the cracking and creaking with every movement. Unfortunately, there was nothing unusual about that either. That was simply old age catching up with me and kicking my arse.
Standing up, I put all my weight on it and squinted as the pain shot down my leg again. A couple of days rest and it’d be fine. It had to be. Nothing was going to stop me taking my place on the field next week. I refused to be one of those retirees who missed their final game or had their career ended by injury. I was choosing to retire. This was my call. My decision. And I’d be fucked if I let it take me out any other way than the way I wanted.
Yanking my shirt over my head, I stared in the mirror. Looking past the bags under my eyes or the stubble covering my jaw, I turned and checked out my ribs. They were covered in red angry welts. I wasn’t surprised, just pissed. They were going to hurt like a bitch tomorrow. My phone rang again, interrupting me. When it fell silent, I stepped into the shower and let the hot water pound down on me. I wished it would work some kind of magic and help me avoid the agony I knew was coming.
When the water ran cold, I stepped out and wrapped a towel around my waist. Kicking my sweats into the corner, I stumbled out of the bathroom and pulled on my sleep pants before downing a couple of painkillers and swallowing. Digging through my bag, I found my phone before lying down gingerly on the bed.
Missed calls from Mum and my sisters. No surprise there.
Listening to the voicemail from Mum first, I heard the worry in her voice. I hated being responsible for putting it there. I needed to put her worries at ease.
“Luca! What happened?”
“Mum, breathe. I’m fine. Just a knock. Nothing life-threatening,” I promised.
It was a good thing she didn’t watch some of the games I’d played overseas. Some of those were rough as fuck and more than once I’d come off bleeding and bruised. As much as I loved my mother, she still hadn’t accepted that I wasn’t a little boy anymore. Part of me was convinced if she had her way, she would’ve been sitting on the bench at the Olympics cutting up oranges for half time, just like she had when I was seven and playing in the local leagues.
It took me another fifteen minutes and a promise to pick her up a box of the chocolates she loved before I could get her off the phone. Flicking a message to my sisters letting them know I was fine, I laid back amongst the mountain of pillows and closed my eyes. A nap would solve everything.
Chapter Twenty-Six – Elise
I met Jax and Dana for brunch at our favourite hole in the wall café. They did the best smashed avocado with poached eggs in town and their coffee was to die for. While we were sitting there catching up, I told them about the bullshit Corey had been pulling lately. Swapping with Trish for the carnival was the final straw for Dana, who wanted to go hunt him down and junk-punch him. Dana was completely oblivious to the fact that she was way too nice of a person to ever actually hurt anyone, but that wasn’t deterring her. When I told them Luca had shown up, I swear Jax’s eyes glazed over. His man crush was bordering on creepy.
