They nod, their expressions serious.
“Alright, hands in,” Julieta says as we stack our palms on top of each other. “Isabel on three.”
“One, Two, Three…Isabel!” we shout in unison.
Then, we take the field as a team and I roll my lips together to keep my emotions checked. Because the innocence of this moment, the beauty of it, slams into me hard. It reminds me of my entire career of storming fields—with the girls who made me a soccer player by my side, all of us determined to uplift each other.
The girls begin their warm-up and I grip my clipboard. When I glance at the bleachers, I grin at my family—Mamá, Papá, Abuelita, Ale, and Marlowe—and blow my man a kiss. Luca smiles back and I realize that no matter what happens today, I’ve already won.
I’ve reinvented myself in Valencia, Spain. I’m not the same girl who left Chicago in tears five months ago. I’m better, stronger, and a hell of a lot happier.
Social Media Post
@LucaDiBlancoCalciatore
These girls train hard and win big! Talent, grit, and heart was on display today as @CarlaGarcia7 led @SantaIsabelDeportes girls to their victory! Proud of these girls and can’t wait to cheer for them in the final match! #FutureOfFutbol #GirlsInSports
Photo Caption:
Santa Isabel’s Female Fútbol Team Celebrates their Semifinals Win Over Alicante
@SantaIsabelDeportes ¡Enhorabuena, chicas!
@hotsportsgossip Way to go, girls!
@AleGarcia9 ¡Buen partido, chicas!
@teresasabes2 ¡Felicidades!
@SoccerSux33 It’s a high school game.
@CarrieSins12 Have you ever even played a sport @SoccerSux33?
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Luca
I feel shitty that my main reason for posting on social media is to undercut Sergio. I know my post will make the rounds and certainly be picked up by local media and big sports bloggers, highlighting Carla and the girls’ team’s success over the boys’ team.
It’s petty but I’m sick of Sergio’s bullshit. I hate that he continues to undermine Carla and her efforts. And, even worse, is completely smug about it.
Carla is already a better coach and player than he’ll ever be and it bothers me that she keeps trying to prove herself to him.
As if reading my mind, and the stakes at play, Alejandro reshares my post, thereby catapulting it to a level of visibility unheard of in high school sports.
As national media outlets run with the story, Santa Isabel is plastered across the news for their expanding female fútbol program.
The team teases me relentlessly on the way back from a game in Barcelona, but I keep my mouth shut and offer a grin in response. The smartest thing to do now is to step back and let the social media storm spike and simmer.
At least, that was my plan.
But the following week, I pass by Álvaro’s physical therapy session to pick him up and give him a ride home. He recently resumed his work at Santa Isabel, with reduced hours, and I want to catch up with my old friend after the craziness of my schedule these past few weeks.
When I push through the revolving doors on my way into the building, I note Álvaro’s wheelchair tucked to the side of the lobby. He’s clearly waiting for me…and he’s not alone.
I squint, trying to size up the man crowding my friend. As I clear the doors and the voice floats over to me, I recognize Sergio.
Immediately, I’m on high alert.
