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copper-16 · 9 months ago

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Scary

Several things go amiss during an El Clásico, but it is nothing that cannot be fixed with a little love and bravery.

(a/n: This might be a stretch to the imagination, but let’s just pretend that all the RM/Barcelona games are played at bigger stadiums in this universe. Also Marta Cardona still plays at RM in this as well, because I said so <3)

Ingrid and Mapi had made a small list of rules regarding their daughter when she was born. Some of them included things like:

4. She would not attend any games at stadiums bigger than Johan Cryuff until she was three years old.

7. She would never go to a Spain camp or a Spanish national team game unless situations change drastically.

12. She would take turns being their mascot, unless it was a big event for one of their teammates, and they wanted Elena as their mascot.

All of them had been good additions to the list, and they had stuck to their guns on it. They were made for her safety, to make sure that she wasn’t overwhelmed or overstimulated as a young child, or put in situations that could negatively affect her as such a young child. They did not regret their choices, but it did lend itself to an interesting situation just a few weeks after Elena’s third birthday.

Ever since she had been born, all of the Barcelona vs. Real Madrid games had been played at large arenas, beyond the capacity that they wanted Elena to experience at such a young age. And just as they said, the toddler had never been to a Spain national team camp or game. She readily came to the Norwegian camps and games, but Mapi strictly forbade her from coming to Spains.

When the Spanish defender had made the decision to go back to the Spanish national team, it wasn’t something she had taken lightly. But Pina and Patri wished to go back, and the brunette both wanted to protect her friends, and play for her country again.

But hell would freeze over before she let her baby anywhere near that environment, near the coaches and structures that had played a hand in so much abuse, both physically and mentally.

It was better for Elena this way, and Mapi preferred it that way. But it also meant that several of the Real Madrid girls who Mapi wasn’t necessarily as close with, had never met Elena.

So when El Clásico is scheduled for early January at Lluís Companys Olympic Stadium, the mothers realize that it will be their first time getting to bring Elena to such an event. She had just turned three a few weeks ago, and they figured it was as good of a time as any to introduce her to the environment of a larger game, still safe with the two of them.

And as it turned out, Mapi was the one who got Elena as her mascot that day. Which meant that early in January, the center back stood in the starting eleven lineup with her daughter on her hip, bouncing her lightly as they waited to walk out onto the pitch.

Elena was slightly overstimulated, the roar of the crowd outside of the tunnel and the sheer size of the place around her slightly overwhelming for the young girl, so she was happy to cling to her mother’s side. She looked around at everything for a while, before settling on waving back at her Mama, who was standing in line behind her, holding the hand of another little boy.

Mapi waved forward at Misa Rodríguez and Marta Cardona, who were both pointing at Elena with excitement. The Barcelona defender smiled, rubbing her daughter’s back up and down softly as she nodded - confirming that the two players would get to meet the little girl today.

But it’s an exchange Elena misses entirely, only focusing fully back on her Mami when the players begin to walk out to the stadium properly.

It’s an early evening game, the sun just beginning to set as Mapi tickles Elena’s stomach as they walk out, pointing at all the fans and explaining everything to her daughter. The little girl tucks herself into the smaller defenders side, happily pressed up against Mapi as she takes everything in, curious if not a little anxious.

It’s the biggest environment she’s ever been in, but Mapi finds that their daughter settles quite quickly, waving at all the people as they stand in a line.

“Hola!” Elena calls out happily, and the brunette smiles as many of the fans wave back, well aware of who was in the defender's arms.

“I love you mi sol,” Mapi murmurs, pressing a kiss to her daughter's temple before she passes the little one to Irene, who would not be playing in the match, but rather resting. Ingrid comes over to kiss Elena’s forehead once before she runs toward the backline, leaving Mapi to jog after her, still looking at their daughter.

“Adios Mami, good luck!” Elena called out as Irene carted her away, remaining happily placed in the older defender's arms for the remainder of the game.

The game doesn’t end up being too hard of a match for Barcelona, with a scoreline of 5-0 in their favor. Ingrid had even scored one of their goals, a header off of a corner set piece they had played.

When the final whistle blew, Irene released Elena and watched carefully as she ran straight to Ingrid, who was closer to the little girl than her wife. The Norwegian turned easily, opening her arms as she crouched down, scooping the toddler up into her arms and pressing kisses all over her head.

“You won!” Elena cheered as she giggled, and Ingrid nodded, sweaty and tired but excited nonetheless. It had been a good match, and the crowd was rowdy and roaring around them, clearly equally as elated with the win.

“We did!” Ingrid responded happily as she bounced her daughter on her hip, clapping her hands together as best as she could as she held her daughter, looking around at her teammates with a big smile on her face.

The Norwegian headed toward the bench, intent on getting some water, when she was intercepted by one of the staff members.

“They need you for media,” she explained with a grimace, her voice urgent, and the dark haired woman nodded her head in understanding as she looked quickly toward her wife. The Spaniard was standing off toward their bench, talking to some teammates.

“Of course, let me just do a hand off real quick,” Ingrid explained, rushing over to place Elena down a few paces from where Mapi’s back was turned to them, as she hears her name being called more urgently. “You go over to Mami, okay Elena?” Ingrid explained as she brushed the little girl's sandy blonde curls back, and she received a small nod in response from her daughter.

“María!” Ingrid called out as she turned around, running over to where they needed her for media. But just as she called out and turned away, Mapi started walking forward, away from her daughter as she was called to meet with one of the staff members. Ingrid’s call for her wife is lost in the crowd, and suddenly Elena is left standing on the sidelines of the pitch, with neither of her parents really in sight.

The little girl looks around, hoping that someone in her Mami and Mama’s team will notice her standing all alone, but everyone is distracted. And the loud, rambunctious crowd that she didn’t mind so much when her Mami was by her side, suddenly seemed much scarier than it had a minute ago to the toddler.

Elena doesn’t know this stadium like she does Johan Cryuff, but there are similarities. She turns around, eyeing the tunnel that she finds similar to the one in Johan, and she makes a run for it, weaving through legs in her quest to get to somewhere a little more quiet and contained.

Once she gets there, she realizes that she’s maybe made a bit of a mistake. Because suddenly nothing really looks familiar, and the young girl struggles with what to do. At Johan, you turned right to get to the Barcelona changing room, so that’s exactly what she does.

The little girl is near close to tears, and desperately hoping that she’ll stumble across the locker room, or one of the Barcelona players that she knows. She’s simply kept walking, going down hallway after hallway, trying to find something or someone familiar. By the time she decides that she should turn back around, she’s so lost she doesn’t know how to get back out to the field, and there are tears beginning to brim in her eyes.

Elena comes to a halt in one of the intersections of a hallway as she realizes that she just wants her Mami and Mama, and she doesn’t know what to do. She isn’t the type to wander off, and she’s never been lost like this before. Armed with exactly no experience or skills in coping with such overwhelming feelings, the little girl can do nothing but burst into tears, which stream down her cheeks at a rapid pace as she stands there helplessly.

Misa had been pacing up and down an abandoned hallway in Lluís Companys, staving off tears of her own, her face red as tears brimmed in her eyes. She was frustrated with her performance, with her team's performance, and she needed a second to calm herself down before talking to her teammates or the press, she had decided.

What she didn’t expect, however, was to hear someone else burst into tears, in what sounded like the hallway down from her. Misa pauses, confused by how high pitched and small the noise sounded. It didn’t sound like one of her teammates, and when she rounds the corner, she is entirely unprepared for what she finds.

There is a toddler, a little girl standing alone in the completely empty hallway, her shoulders heaving with the force of her cries, her hands covering her face. She has a little Barcelona kit top on, with the number 23 on it but the last name León across it. The Madridista immediately knows who it is, but what she doesn’t quite understand is why Mapi León and Ingrid Engen’s daughter is sitting in the middle of a hallway on the away side of the stadium.

“Niña? Elena?” Misa calls out softly, walking toward the little girl, who looks up at her when she hears her name called.

Elena looks up, finding a woman she doesn’t know walking toward her, and the first emotion that pours through her is fear. The woman is tall, like Mama, but her face is flushed and she’s wearing an alarmingly bright red jersey and shorts that the young girl doesn’t recognize. Her hands are large, considering that they are encased in goalkeeper gloves, but Elena doesn’t quite realize they are just gloves in her stressed state.

All she registers is that there is a large, unknown woman walking toward her with big, scary hands, and if she was panicked before, it was nothing compared to now. She lets out a fearful squeak as she cowers from Misa, taking several unsteady steps back.

“Hey, it’s okay, I am not going to hurt you niña,” Misa promises, even though she herself is cringing at her words. She’s never felt more like a child predator than in this moment, despite her intentions being more than pure. The goalkeeper had been excited to meet Elena, even more so after the loss, honestly. All of the girls often spoke about how much they adored the little girl, how smiley and kind she was. Misa felt like she could use just a little bit of that energy after the frustrating loss.

And here the smiley little girl was, trying to get away from Misa because she was scared of her. It cracked the Spaniard’s heart right in half, and if she wasn’t upset before, she most definitely was now.

Elena looked behind herself, finally and thankfully spotting a familiar face that had just turned toward the hallway toward the two of them. The Spaniard and Norwegian’s daughter ran as fast as her little legs could carry her, beelining for the Barcelona player who had just turned the corner with Marta and Olga next to her.

Salma had just been coming back to talk to Misa with Marta when all the sudden she felt something slam into her legs, nearly sending her toppling over.

“What the hell—o Elena!” Salma quickly corrected, trying to take in the scene in front of her with complete confusion. The little girl was cowering behind Salma’s legs, holding onto the forward for dear life, practically shaking. Salma instinctively placed her hand over the little girl’s hair, smoothing her curls as she looked up to see Misa walking slowly toward them.

“Elena? What’s going on?” Salma asked helplessly, lost on what to do as she looked between the three Real Madrid players for some semblance of guidance.

Elena had always loved Salma, from when she was a baby. The forward never knew what to do with the little girl, especially when she was younger. She had no experience with children, and she found herself often stunted and awkward in her interactions with Mapi and Ingrid’s daughter, but Elena’s love for her transcended any superfluous worries or awkwardness Salma expressed.

“Scary,” Elena whispered as she pointed toward Misa timidly, her grip on Salma tightening as she tucked her head behind the young Barcelona player's legs. Salma looked up with a heartbroken expression, watching as Misa bit her lip to keep from crying, keeping her distance.

The goalkeeper knew that some people thought she was scary. She got it, she really did. She had an RBF that could probably win an award, and a very intense personality. But it was one thing for a conscious adult to call her scary, and another for a little girl who she had been so excited to meet to call her that. The goalkeeper's heart sank at the realization that this was how Elena was always going to remember her, as the scary woman who tried to kidnap her when she was three years old.

Salma looked between Olga and Marta, silently begging for help. She still had no clue what to do, and appeared to be rather paralyzed by indecision.

It’s Olga who crouches down so that she’s level with the little girl, her voice soft and kind.

“Are you lost niña?” The defender asked gently, and Elena poked her head out from its spot against Salma’s calf, nodding slightly. Her lower lip wobbled heavily, but she wasn’t actively crying, so they all took it as a win.

Elena regarded Olga kindly, if not a bit shyly. The two women with Salma were wearing white, nowhere near the angry red that the other, larger woman was, and the little girl didn’t find them nearly as frightening, all things considered.

“Come on, why don’t we take you back to your Mamis,” Olga decided, holding her hand out for the young girl. Elena took it carefully, but not before reaching for Salma’s hand, making sure that the forward was still holding onto her.

Salma sent the little girl what she hoped was an encouraging smile as they began to walk out toward the pitch. The Barcelona forward wound them down the confusing hallways, with Olga holding Elena’s other hand while Marta carefully wrapped her arm around the goalkeeper. Misa was fighting to keep it together as they all ventured back out to the stadium pitch together.

After a few minutes of walking, Elena let out a small whine, looking up at Salma with big, wet eyes.

“Carry?” She asked, letting go of Olga’s hand in favor of staring up at the tall forward hopefully, tugging lightly on her kit top. Salma looked around at the other girls, terrified and scared of disappointing the little girl. They all looked back at her expectantly in that moment, and she was struck with the fact that she was the one with the most experience with Elena, of the group. It both calms her and terrifies her at the same time, somehow.

“Uh…sure!” She laughed nervously, reaching down to pick Elena up, gripping her under her arms. The forward was used to dealing with the toddler when she was planted firmly on the ground, and she hadn’t carried the sandy blonde girl since she was a baby. She had been so scared to drop the baby that she had shook anxiously the whole time, until Mapi took pity on her and took her daughter back.

But she tries to remember how Mapi and Ingrid do it, settling Elena on her hip as she clings to the little girl for dear life. She would never forgive herself if she dropped her, and she knew she would never hear the end of it from the rest of the team if she did. They were all highly protective of her, a fact that they all prided themselves on.

As the five of them walked out toward the pitch, they had no idea the chaos that was awaiting them out on the field.

—

After her interview had ended, Ingrid had walked back over to her wife with a pep in her step, still overjoyed at the win and the goal she had scored.

Mapi wasn’t hard to find, standing with the assistant coach, discussing a few tactics from the game after he had called her over to talk about some of their defensive lapses. Their daughter was nowhere in sight, so the Norwegian assumed that Mapi had passed her off to one of their teammates, but when she looked around, she couldn’t see Elena anywhere.

“Who did you give Elena to?” Ingrid asked, a crease appeared in her forehead as her eyebrows furrowed together. Mapi looked back at her with equal confusion, shaking her head.

“You have Elena, not me. She went to you after the game,” the Spaniard insists, now beginning to grow confused. Ingrid’s eyebrows flew into her hairline at that statement, shaking her head.

“I gave her to you ten minutes ago, I sent her your way and called out to you,” Ingrid explains, and Mapi pales at the realization that she had never received her daughter.

“I did not hear you, and she never came over to me!” Mapi cried, looking around wildly for her daughter. When she cannot see her anywhere on the pitch, her worry only balloons. “Oh my god, she is lost. She is not here!” The brunette cried out, panic washing over her in waves as she realized what this meant.

The ironic thing was that generally, Ingrid was the anxious one between them. She was the one who worried for Elena, the one who baby proofed the house and took first aid classes and sat in the back of the car with her when she was the baby.

But Ingrid was also exceptional in a crisis, and this was no different.

Mapi, however? Not so good in a crisis, at least a non-football related crisis, that was.

“Oh my god, Ingrid, she could be anywhere!” Mapi pitched as she clawed at her chest, her throat tightening with anxiety as she whipped her head around, looking for any sign of the little girl.

“Do not panic Mapi, she has to be here somewhere. Come on, let’s go find her,” Ingrid insisted, forcing herself to remain calm as she pulled her panicking wife with her as she began to inform people, everyone scrambling to begin looking for the young girl.

They alerted security, sent people all over the stadium to look for her as the Norwegian drug her wife back toward the Barcelona bench.

“This was the last place I left her, so we should stay here. She’s around here somewhere, we just have to find her!” Ingrid insisted as she turned to Irene, who had come over as she got wind of the situation. Hot on the tails of the older defender is the Barcelona captain, looking close to tears herself.

“Is Elena really lost? Where could she have gone? We must find her!” Alexia cried, baby hairs escaping her ponytail as she looked around, clearly frazzled and stressed at the news of the curly haired little girl being lost.

“Yes she is gone–” Ingrid began, only to be cut off before she could even really start her sentence.

“Well we must search for her then!” Alexia interrupted, looking around wildly, her own panic growing.

“Alexia, this is not even your child! If anyone should be allowed to panic, it should be us!” Mapi interjected, her stress seeping into her tone as she gestured wildly with her hands. Alexia let out a huff of disapproval at that, clearly in disagreement.

“She is my goddaughter, I love her too!” Alexia insisted, the two squabbling uselessly as Ingrid watched on with an unimpressed expression.

“If I were not more aware I would assume that these two were the mothers, and not me,” Ingrid mumbled under her breath to Irene, who couldn’t resist letting out a small peal of laughter that she quickly masked as a cough when Mapi and Alexia looked toward her pointedly.

“Who knew that all it took to reduce La Reina and the fearless Mapi León into a puddle of stress was losing a toddler one singular time,” Irene joked back, where she was promptly met with more unimpressed looks from her teammates, and a chuckle from Ingrid.

But even the Norwegian, who was generally cool in a crisis, was beginning to grow worried as time stretched on. Her eyebrows remained furrowed together, her foot beginning to tap nervously as she looked around, letting out a nervous sigh.

“She’s going to be fine, Ingrid. She’s just wandered off somewhere, kids do it sometimes. We lost Mateo in the store once, and found him in the freezer aisle cuddling with some old lady's little dog,” Irene soothed, and Ingrid sent her a grateful smile, even if she didn’t look convinced. She knew the stories, she knew it was normal, but it didn’t make it any easier when it was her own child.

She just wanted Elena back in her arms, proof that she was safe and sound, and to not let her daughter out of her sight until she was twenty seven years old.

“How about we go check the locker room again?” Irene suggests, and the dark haired woman jumps at the opportunity to do something, nodding insistently.

“That’s a good idea,” Ingrid confirmed, and she was just about to head back with her fellow defender when she heard it.

“Mami! Mama!” Elena called out from her spot in Salma’s arms, and both Ingrid and Mapi were booking it toward their daughter as soon as they heard it. The forward was entirely unprepared for both the Spaniard and Norwegian to plow into her, raining kisses down onto her head as they plucked her from Salma’s arms. Mapi hugged Elena tightly to her, as Ingrid pressed into her space, both of them crowding their daughter with an abundance of love and relief, the panic washing off of them at the sight of their precious little girl back safely in their arms.

The forward flipped her braids over her shoulder in relief at the hand off, nearly stumbling over when Ingrid stepped away from her wife and daughter, pulling her younger teammate into a tight hug as Mapi cradled Elena to her chest.

“Thank you so much Salma,” Ingrid murmured in the space above the forward’s shoulders, and despite accepting the hug, the younger woman shook her head.

“It was Misa who found her,” Salma promised, and the dark haired woman wasted no time in moving toward the Real Madrid player, stepping into her space and immediately hugging the goalkeeper, regardless of the fact that they hardly knew one another. Elena looked up from her spot against Mapi to see her Mama moving toward the scary woman, and she let out a whimper as she turned, burrowing her face into Mapi’s sternum with fear.

As the panic subsides from her chest slowly, Mapi takes stock of the whole situation. Elena seemed scared of the Real Madrid players, cowering into her arms as Ingrid hugged Misa tightly. Everyone else seemed focused on Misa, with Salma, Olga, and Marta watching her wife and the Real Madrid goalkeeper. The goalkeeper seemed on the brink of tears, something that the center back assumed was because of the game.

She was informed otherwise when Marta approached her carefully, her voice soft as came close to the Barcelona defender.

“Misa found her in the hallway, but I think she caught the little one in a bad spot, and now I think she’s a little scared of her,” Marta explained, looking toward the Spanish goalkeeper with worry before looking back at the Barcelona center back. Misa was getting a pep talk from both Ingrid and Irene, to what appeared to be little avail, if the tears in her eyes were any indication.

Mapi nods slowly, rubbing her hand soothingly over Elena’s back, up and down softly. Her daughter is already a hundred times calmer, having regulated herself well in her Mami’s arms. That being said, Mapi knew they needed a few moments to regather themselves before they reintroduced her to Misa, if they could.

“Okay, thank you for letting me know. Give us a few minutes?” Mapi asked gently, and Marta nodded before leaving, heading back to her teammate's side.

It was just a few moments later that Ingrid appeared at her wife’s side, the Spaniard wordlessly passing her daughter to the Norwegian, who held her close and rained kisses down on her.

“It’s okay, we’re right here Elena,” Ingrid promised, her own worry and stress evaporating at the content little sigh their daughter let out as she was held tightly to the Norwegians side. It was after a few minutes of holding her that Elena leaned back, looking calmer, if not a little more worried.

“‘M sorry, got lost,” Elena explained gently, her lower lip wobbling as tears brimmed in her eyes again. Ingrid shook her head slightly, her words soft and soothing.

“You do not have to be sorry, Elena. Just try to stay close to me or Mami next time, or someone you know, si? We do not want you to get lost where we cannot find you, because that would make us very scared, okay?” Ingrid explained carefully, and when she finished Elena nodded, a small smile finally appearing on her face as she settled in her mothers arms, back to the happy little girl she normally was. That was something wonderful Ingrid and Mapi both loved about their daughter being so small, how resilient she always was in situations like this.

Mapi looked back over toward Misa, her heart breaking when she saw that the tears had broken through finally, her head buried in her hands.

Elena looked from her mother to the Real Madrid goalkeeper, her little eyebrows worried together at the sight.

“Mami, is she okay?” The sandy blonde girl asked as she looked toward Misa, recognizing the signs of someone crying. Mapi looked toward her wife for a moment, and after receiving a nod of approval from the Norwegian, the Spaniard took her daughter into her arms from her fellow center back.

“That is my friend Misa,” Mapi explained to her daughter, her words slow and gentle. She stays where she is, but tries to convey her warmth to the woman regardless. “She has had a bad day, and I think she is just expressing that by crying, like you do sometimes too when you are upset,” Mapi continued, watching as her daughter stared at the goalkeeper with concern painted in her small face.

“Friend? Tía?” Elena asked curiously, clearly trying to work everything out as Mapi nodded.

“Yes Tía Misa, she is one of my very good friends. She is very kind and funny, just like you!” The Spaniard tried, and Elena looked over at her skeptically, but she chose to believe her Mami.

“Maybe we cheer up?” The little girl asked, and Mapi raised her hand to run it over Elena’s cheek gently, in a soothing manner.

“Are you sure, El? You do not have to, I know you thought she was scary earlier. I promise she is not though, she is one of Mami’s friends,” Mapi promised, not wanting to pressure her daughter to do anything she didn’t want to.

“Cheer her up,” Elena decided, wriggling her body slightly to signal her mother to move. She stiffened suddenly as she looked from Misa to Mapi, with some fear clearly still present in her tone. “You come too,” she checked quickly, relaxing back into the Spaniard when Mapi nodded her agreement to the statement.

Salma, Olga, and Marta had led Misa over to the Real Madrid bench, which was where Mapi brought Elena over to. The goalkeeper was sitting on the bench, her head in her hands as silent sobs wracked her shoulders.

Marta looked over at Mapi with a hopeful expression as the Spaniard placed her daughter on the ground, taking Elena’s hand as she led her over to Misa.

The young girl held her mothers hand carefully as she made her way up to the woman who had been wearing the angry red jersey. She was now wearing a white jacket over her kit top, and something about seeing her when Elena was in a calm state, and the lack of such an aggressive kit top helped to soothe the little girl’s initial concerns.

“Hola,” Elena said softly, her voice small but fierce in its kindness as she stopped a few steps from the goalkeeper. Misa paused, looking up carefully, unable to keep the surprise off her expression when she realized who was in front of her, looking at her carefully.

The goalkeeper looks up at Mapi in shock before she is wiping the tears from her eyes, offering a watery smile to the toddler.

“Hola,” she responded, unsure of what else to say. Elena took another step toward her, offering a small smile.

“My name is Elena,” she expressed quietly, watching as Misa rubbed the tears from her eyes.

“Hi Elena, I’m Misa,” the goalkeeper repeated, trying not to burst into more tears. There was no fear in the little girl's eyes, only curiosity and kindness. Misa feels hope flying into her chest at the little girl's face, at the thought that maybe this whole situation was salvageable. Elena looks at the spot next to Misa, her eyebrows furrowing together in curiosity.

“What are those?” Elena asked gently, pointing to the abandoned goalkeeper gloves that were sitting next to the Madridista. The Spaniard reached for them, holding them out to the little girl softly.

“These are my goalkeeper gloves. Would you like to see them?” Misa asked gently, her voice hopeful. The little girl looked back at her mother for a second before releasing Mapi’s hand, nodding as she walked over to Misa, right up to where she was sitting, placing her hand on the goalkeeper's knee.

“Here, you can put them on,” Misa said softly, everyone watching with relief as the goalkeeper slid her giant gloves onto Elena’s little hands, holding them on to help to keep them from falling off.

The Real Madrid player was absolutely positive that Elena healed something within her when she giggled, leaning into Misa as she moved her hands with the gloves still over them, laughing happily at the sight. It was the goalkeeper's first real smile of the day, and her heart leapt into her throat when Elena climbed into her lap, beginning to talk her toddler nonsense to Misa, who held onto every single word she said.

The Madridista carefully held Elena to her, making sure she was secure with no chance of falling. She looked up when the toddler gasped, seeing Pina and Jana still out on the field, passing the ball listlessly back and forth as they spoke about something.

Elena turned back to Misa with excitement, the goalkeeper gloves falling off her hands in excitement.

“Come play Tía Misa?” The toddler asked hopefully, her eyes big and filled with joy at the prospect of getting to play with all of her friends. Misa looked toward Mapi, who nodded her head in agreement before she smiled brightly, agreeing with Elena.

“Come on!” Elena cheered as she took Misa’s hand after being set on the ground by the goalkeeper, and dragging the taller woman toward the younger girls.

Ingrid had come over to join Mapi, Salma, and Marta, as the right winger shook her head in disbelief. Misa was sitting criss-cross applesauce on the ground, rolling the ball toward Elena, cheering when the toddler tried to kick it.

When Elena finally managed to hit the ball back with some semblance of accuracy, Jana and Pina immediately cheered loudly. Elena giggled at both of them, smiling before she ran over to Misa, collapsing into a hug as she wrapped her arms around the goalkeeper, who hugged her back just as fiercely, a huge smile pulling at both of her cheeks.

“What is it about children that just…heals any wrongdoing?” Marta asked wistfully, and Ingrid chuckled as Mapi shook her head.

“You can’t not love them,” she acquiesced, letting out a final sigh of relief as they all moved to join the girls in playing with the toddler, who happily giggled away at all the attention raining down on her.

#mapi leon #ingrid engen #ingrid x mapi x daughter #woso #barcelona femeni #alexia putellas #olga carmona #marta cardona #misa rodriguez

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indiejones · 2 years ago

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INDIES TOP 436 FOOTBALLERS OF ALL TIME !

1. .Lionel Messi

2. .Alfredo di Stefano

3. .Diego Maradona

4. .Zinedine Zidane

5. .Robert Lewandowski

6. .Gerd Muller

7. .Pele

8. .Michel Platini

9. .John Charles

10. .Ronaldo Nazario (Brazil)

11. .George Weah

12. .Andrea Pirlo

13. .Kaka

14. .Andres Iniesta

15. .Robbie Keane

16. .Xavi Hernandez

17. .Roberto Carlos

18. .Cafu

19. .Silvio Piola

20. .Lev Yashin

21. .Nilton Santos

22. .Valentino Mazzola

23. .Claudio Taffarel

24. .Milan Baros

25. .Zico

26. .Ferenc Puskas

27. .Ruud Gullit

28. .Bobby Moore

29. .Socrates

30. .Mario Kempes

31. .Patrick Kluivert

32. .Jose Luis Chilavert

33. .Paola Rossi

34. .Fernando Hierro

35. .Franz Beckenbauer

36. .Telmo Zarra

37. .Didi

38. .Dennis Bergkamp

39. .Oleg Blohkin

40. .Jose Manuel Moreno

41. .Hector Scarone

42. .Carles Puyol

43. .Willy van der Kuijlen

44. .Neymar

45. .Marcel Desailly

46. .Fandi Ahmad

47. .Hariss Harun

48. .Johan Cryuff

49. .Fabio Cannavaro

50. .Thierry Henry

51. .Gheorghe Popescu

52. .Jimmy Greaves

53. .Falcao

54. .David Villa

55. .Abedi Pele

56. .Robin Van Persie

57. .Ernst Wilimowski

58. .Toni Polster

59. .Ray Clemence

60. .Carlos Pavon

61. .Ryan Giggs

62. .David James

63. .Frank De Boer

64. .Ismail Al Hammadi

65. .Kostas Katsouranis

66. .David Seaman

67. .Oliver Kahn

68. .Karl Heinz Rummenigge

69. .Ferenc Deak

70. .Bruno Conti

71. .Fernando Peyroteo

72. .Xabi Alonso

73. .Alexis Sanchez

74. .Jose Altafini

75. .Paolo Maldini

76. .Florian Albert

77. .Ferenc Szusza

78. .Roland Nilsson

79. .Steven Gerrard

80. .Clarence Seedorf

81. .Diego Simeone

82. .Ruslan Rotan

83. .Joachim Streich

84. .Enzo Fransescoli

85. .Julio Cesar Romero

86. .Giacinto Facchetti

87. .Trevor Thompson

88. .Gabriel Batistuta

89. .Marco Van Basten

90. .Ronaldinho

91. .Patrik Berger

92. .Sandor Kocsis

93. .Karim Benzema

94. .Luis Suarez (Spain)

95. .Ivan Hurtado

96. .Eric Cantona

97. .Shinji Okazaki

98. .Uwe Seeler

99. .Paul Gascoigne

100. .Sammy Hughes

101. .Frank Lampard

102. .Stevan Jovetic

103. .Romelu Lukaku

104. .Jock Dodds

105. .George Best

106. .Paul Breitner

107. .Hwang Sun-Hong

108. .Makoto Hasebe

109. .Didier Deschamps

110. .Deon McCaulay

111. .Garrincha

112. .Roberto Baggio

113. .Kenny Dalglish

114. .Sandro Mazzola

115. .Nikos Anastopoulos

116. .Alisson Becker

117. .Alan Hansen

118. .Edin Dzeko

119. .Jan Koller

120. .Husain Ali

121. .Hossam Hassan

122. .Rafael Aranzadi

123. .Gunnar Nordahl

124. .Ian Rush

125. .Frederick Roberts

126. .Rui Costa

127. .Faas Wilkes

128. .Lakhdar Belloumi

129. .Duncan Edwards

130. .Andreas Brehme

131. .Ruud van Nistelrooy

132. .Hussein Saeed

133. .Raul

134. .Roberto Ayala

135. .Manuel Neuer

136. .Bobby Charlton

137. .Carlos Alberto

138. .Romario

139. .Elias Figueroa

140. .Peter Schmeichel

141. .David Healy

142. .David Beckham

143. .Marta

144. .Stuart Pearce

145. .Nandor Hidegkuti

146. .Ferenc Bene

147. .Miroslav Klose

148. .Ali Al-Biski

149. .Luis Tejada

150. .Didier Drogba

151. .Sergio Ramos

152. .Dani Alves

153. .Shunmugham Subramani

154. .Ali Ashfaq

155. .Jurgen Klinsmann

156. .Roger Milla

157. .Hans Krankl

158. .Andriy Shevchenko

159. .Jose Nasazzi

160. .Enzo Fransescoli

161. .Ricardo Zamora

162. .Dave Halliday

163. .Bojan Jokic

164. .Arthur Rowley

165. .Phil Younghusband

166. .Michael Laudrup

167. .Claudio Gentile

168. .Emmanuel Okwi

169. .Gianluigi Buffon

170. .Steve Bloomer

171. .Ronald Koeman

172. .Robbie James

173. .Marek Jankulovski

174. .Petr Cech

175. .Georginio Wijnaldum

176. .Boy Martin

177. .Asamoah Gyan

178. .Zbigniew Boniek

179. .Michael Owen

180. .Arda Turan

181. .Marcelinho Paraiba

182. .Kazuyoshi Miura

183. .Sepp Maier

184. .Antonin Panenka

185. .Luis Suarez (Uruguay)

186. .Tommy Dickson

187. .Eusebio

188. .Kunishige Kamamoto

189. .Fritz Walter

190. .Rivelino

191. .Rene Houseman

192. .Tostao

193. .Roy Krishna

194. .Lukas Podolski

195. .Tulio Maravilha

196. .Emilio Butragueno

197. .Klaus Fischer

198. .Carlos Valderrama

199. .Jim Baxter

200. .Raymond Kopa

201. .Hristo Stoichkov

202. .Edgar Davids

203. .Samuel Eto’o

204. .Sol Campbell

205. .Dunga

206. .Jan Vertonghen

207. .Hans-Jurgen Dorner

208. .Gianni Rivera

209. .Glenn Ferguson

210. .Jozsef Takacs

211. .Claudio Caniggia

212. .Omar Sivori

213. .Cristiano Ronaldo

214. .Domagoj Vida

215. .Lothar Matthaus

216. .Jose Manuel Rey

217. .Alessandro del Piero

218. .Gerson

219. .Teofilo Cubillas

220. .Joe Bambrick

221. .Lajos Tichy

222. .Paulo Futre

223. .Denis Law

224. .Antoine Griezmaan

225. .Ashley Cole

226. .Josef Bican

227. .Zlatan Ibrahimovich

228. .Tommy Lawton

229. .Claudio Suarez

230. .Godfrey Chitalu

231. .Olivier Giroud

232. .Franco Baresi

233. .Gheorghe Hagi

234. .Juan Alberto Schiaffino

235. .Matthias Sammer

236. .Allan Simonsen

237. .Jalal Hosseini

238. .Teerasil Dangda

239. .Des Dickson

240. .Karel Poborsky

241. .Keylor Navas

242. .Cody Gakpo

243. .Kasun Jayasuriya

244. .Davor Suker

245. .Richarlison

246. .Roland Juhasz

247. .Karim Bagheri

248. .Ahmed Jamil

249. .Saad Al-Mukhaini

250. .Nawaf Al-Khaldi

251. .Raymond Braine

252. .Careca

253. .Sven Rydell

254. .Johan Neeskens

255. .Neville Southall

256. .Luigi Riva

257. .Cha Bum-kun

258. .Youri Djorkaeff

259. .Vivian Woodward

260. .Phil Younghusband

261. .Lillian Thuram

262. .Kylian Mbappe

263. .Isidro Langara

264. .Jon Dahl Tomasson

265. .Matthias Sindelar

266. .Sergio Busquets

267. .Luis Figo

268. .Amancio

269. .Josef Masopust

270. .Robert Smyth McColl

271. .Hugo Sanchez

272. .Bryan Robson

273. .Abdallah Deeb

274. .Pierre Emerick Aubameyang

275. .Jean-Pierre Papin

276. .Rudi Voller

277. .Stanley Matthews

278. .Djalma Santos

279. .Tom Finney

280. .Kolbeinn Sigporsson

281. .Aron Winter

282. .Hugo Lloris

283. .Glenn Hoddle

284. .Gyorgy Sarosi

285. .Ladislav Kubala

286. .Luis Oliveira

287. .John Barnes

288. .Martin Peters

289. .Tomas Rosicky

290. .Franz Binder

291. .Jorginho

292. .Jozy Altidore

293. .Imants Bleidelis

294. .Abe Lenstra

295. .Pavel Nedved

296. .Hassan Maatouk

297. .Francesco Totti

298. .Ibrahim Afellay

299. .Pat Jennings

300. .Just Fontaine

301. .Amadeo Carrizo

302. .Gabor Kiraly

303. .Sergio Aguero

304. .Lester More

305. .Francisco Gento

306. .Herve Revelli

307. .Landon Donovan

308. .Franck Ribery

309. .Zoltan Gera

310. .Preben Elkjaer

311. .Danny Blind

312. .Michalis Konstantinou

313. .Laurent Blanc

314. .Henrick Mkhitaryan

315. .Maynor Figueroa

316. .Hani Al-Dhabit

317. .Harry Kewell

318. .Jimmy Jones

319. .Bebeto

320. .Jairzinho

321. .Jimmy McGrory

322. .Gyula Zsengeller

323. .Hughie Gallacher

324. .Jimmy Kelly

325. .Poul Nielsen

326. .Frank Rijkaard

327. .Giuseppe Meazza

328. .Enner Valencia

329. .Leonidas da Silva

330. .Gordon Banks

331. .Gary Linekar

332. .Adriano

333. .Noureddine Naybet

334. .Hristo Bonev

335. .Joseph Mermans

336. .Hector Ramos

337. .Mansour Muftah

338. .Stan Mortensen

339. .Clint Dempsey

340. .Alan Shearer

341. .Rivaldo

342. .Aleksandar Mitrovic

343. .Nasr Eddin Abbas

344. .Philipp Lahm

345. .Maris Verpakovskis

346. .Vava

347. .Willem van Hanegem

348. .Piapong Pue-on

349. .Gonzalo Jara

350. .Hakan Sukur

351. .Ahmed Ibrahim Khalaf

352. .Valentin Ivanov

353. .Kevin Keegan

354. .Abdulrahim Jumaa

355. .Steve McManaman

356. .Iker Casillas

357. .Robinho

358. .Emilio Butragueno

359. .Xherdan Shaqiri

360. .Peter Pekarik

361. .Daniel Passarella

362. .Wayne Rooney

363. .Gunter Netzer

364. .Casemiro

365. .Moises Caicedo

366. .Zito

367. .Emmanuel Petit

368. .David Ginola

369. .Edinson Cavani

370. .Jorge Campos

371. .Dixie Dean

372. .Luka Modric

373. .Oscar Soneje

374. .Bilal Mohammed

375. .Christian Vieri

376. .Roberto Dinamite

377. .Cesar Rodriguez Alvarez

378. .Ali Daei

379. .Raheem Sterling

380. .Yoshikatsu Kawaguchi

381. .Mokhtar Dahari

382. .Ronnie Rooke

383. .Tico-Tico

384. .Ubaldo Fillol

385. .Shota Arveladze

386. .Jose Torres

387. .Shinji Kagawa

388. .Rafael Marquez

389. .Frantisek Planicka

390. .Patrik Schick

391. .Bastian Schweinsteiger

392. .Geoff Hurst

393. .Harry Kane

394. .Oliver Bierhoff

395. .Rogerio Ceni

396. .Dominique Rocheteau

397. .Gaetano Scirea

398. .Khamis Al-Dosari

399. .Giampiero Boniperti

400. .Javier Zanetti

401. .Javier Hernandez

402. .Gareth Bale

403. .Benni McCarthy

404. .Rolando Fonseca

405. .Abdul Kadir Omur

406. .Ali Al-Nono

407. .Roger Piantoni

408. .Peter Shilton

409. .Nigel Codrington

410. .Le Cong Vinh

411. .Marcelo Moreno

412. .Yasuhito Endo

413. .Jimmy Johnstone

414. .Bernard Lacombe

415. .Alan Ball

416. .Blaise Matuidi

417. .Paul Pogba

418. .Frenkie de Jong

419. .Jaba Kankava

420. .Fyodor Kudryashov

421. .Emmanuel Sanon

422. .Amer Shafi

423. .Ulf Kirsten

424. .Laszio Fazekas

425. .John Aldridge

426. .Jose Andrade

427. .Ahmed Musa

428. .Kristen Viikmae

429. .Heinz Hermann

430. .Dino Zoff

431. .Tommy Hutchison

432. .Geremi

433. .Ali Mabkhout

434. .Ganbaataryn Togsbayar

435. .Imre Schlosser

436. .Erwin Helmchen

4 notes · View notes