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flemingsfreckles · 9 months ago

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Be a Good Teammate

Jessie Fleming x USWNT!Reader

Words: 3.4k

Preview: After Jessie misses her penalty in the Gold Cup semi final, she’s found practicing kicks by her old friend and college teammate.

Warnings: some cursing, a little angst, but nothing else too crazy.

A/N: I haven’t written anything in maybe 4-5 years. Recently fallen back into reading and then watching the Canada/US game sparked some inspiration and here we are writing again.

You could hear her before you saw her. You had come out of the dressing room well after the rest of your teammates. They hardly showered just throwing on fresh clothes in a rush to begin their celebration for moving on to the finals of the Gold Cup. The stadium had fallen silent with the exception of a faint noise coming from the far end of the tunnel toward the pitch.

It was the repetitive sound of a ball being kicked followed shortly by the swish of the net. One after the next, boot on ball, swish of the net, boot on ball swish of the net. Working like a clock, a perfect machine, that was until the sound of the net was replaced by the ringing of the crossbar and the frustration of the kicker.

“Stupid fucking penalty” a frustrated voice rang out. The sound of the voice halted your steps, you knew that voice. Jessie. You quickly recognize the voice as your former best friend and UCLA teammate. Once you hear her, you quickly realized what was happening.

You’d seen her do this when you played together, anything from missed headers, missed passes, missed shots, and now with missed penalties. Jessie was known for being a hard worker, her focus and determination was admirable by her teammates and led her to earning the right to wear the captain's armband. She pushed herself to be better and while it was that mentality that turned her into one of Canada’s best, it also came with a whole other side.

She was hard on herself, more so than anyone else, and she took it to extremes. You had watched in college as she would spend hours watching film of her mistakes, tearing her performances apart, nitpicking every step she took. Criticizing every mistake to the point of obsession. One bad touch or one missed scoring opportunity would cloud her brain, unable to focus on anything else until she could fix that mistake, that mistake was all that would matter to Jessie.

“Be a good teammate to yourself Jessie.” Those were the words you told her constantly in college when you’d find her overworking herself. Running extra laps after an already grueling practice. Taking extra shots after a game, refusing to stop the repetitions until they were in her eyes, perfect. “Treat yourself how you treat all your other teammates, you support us, you provide positive corrections, you're kind. Talk to yourself the same way you talk with me or anyone else on this team, be a good teammate to yourself.”

And that’s how you knew exactly what Jessie was doing out on that field. She was retaking her penalty from earlier in the game, the one she had kicked into the arms of your team’s goalkeeper, letting you and your teammates erupt in celebration behind her as she walked with her head down to her team’s bench.

Now you are stuck with your brain telling you to let her be, she’s not going to want to see you, especially on a night like tonight. Just go celebrate with your teammates, you thought.

You and Jessie had been close in college, so close most of your teammates were convinced you two were secretly dating. And to be fair to them, you wish you’d made a move on Jessie but you didn’t. Too worried about losing your friend and still trying to figure out yourself in the process. Now your college days were years behind you and you both moved away after graduation to play professionally, her with Chelsea and now in Portland and you with Bayren Munich and more recently with Seattle.

Your communication with your former best friend had rapidly declined over the years, you both got caught up in your new lives, new clubs, and Jessie had gotten a girlfriend. It wasn’t public information at the time but you were close enough that she shared the news, gushing about the girl over one of your nightly phone call. You knew deep down that girl is what pushed you away. Even though you knew it was never going to work out between you and Jessie, it didn’t make hearing about her new girl any less painful.

So you pulled back, with going from long facetime calls, to short catch ups, to texts. It seemed mutual as Jessie followed suit reaching out less frequently. She figured you were busy and had forgotten about her, seeing you make new friends in your new teams. These days you were lucky if you saw a “nice game” “congrats on the win” or even “happy birthday” come across your phone from the Canadian.

No bad blood stood between you two that she was aware of, except for maybe right now as you stood wearing the crest of the team that had just ended her tournament hopes.

While your brain was telling you to head for the parking lot and leave, forgetting you heard her taking the shots, your heart refused to let your feet move in any direction but toward the pitch. As you turned the corner she came into view. The bright white 17 with FLEMING printed neatly across the back of her red jersey became visible as you watched her set up her next round of shots.

Now you were frozen again, standing just inside the edge of the pitch, only your eyes moving, watching as she placed a ball, moved backward, took a deep breath and took the shot. It sailed into the upper left of the net. You watched as Jessie once again stepped back to ready herself, having already placed the next ball while you were watching her first one go in the net. Again she took a breath and fired into the net. She continued just as you had heard her before, booting the ball into the net. Over and over and over.

The stadium that had previously been filled with fans shouting, coaches calling out, music, liveliness was now eerily silent, just the sound of Jessie methodical work taking place. You weren’t even sure how long you had been standing there watching her, you’d maybe seen her take 10 or 12 shots, all screaming into the back of the net. The systematic movement and sound had lulled you into zoning out, only snapped back into reality when you realized the noise had stopped.

Jessie was moving toward the goal, collecting all the balls she had kicked, only now you could hear her mumbling to herself. Unable to make out what she was saying, you watched as she continued moving all the balls back to start her drill once again. She had turned around, her face more visible to you, eyes still down looking at the balls she was kicking. You could see her cheeks were still bright red and her skin was shiny with sweat, or maybe it was rain. Her mumbling had turned into her regular voice, allowing you to make out every couple of words.

“idiot…if I just made it… don’t deserve this…” You watched her rip the captain's armband from her bicep, throwing it aside.

You felt your chest grow tight, seeing and hearing Jessie so angry at herself was painful. She was the kindest soul, she had been your first friend at school and one of the only ones who stuck around through all 4 years. the only thing she didn’t deserve is to feel this way about her performance.

Maybe i should leave, you thought, let her work through this, she’ll be okay with some time, how much can you really help at this point, it’s over, there’s no point in making her more upset and,

“FUCK” Jessie’s voice intrudes into your thoughts as she punts the last ball with such anger that instead of landing just outside the box like the rest, she sends it sailing, landing only a couple of feet from you. You look at the ball rolling toward your feet, being slowed greatly by the wet grass.

“Sorry,” Jessie hollers with a wave and a different, more polite tone in her voice. She begins jogging over to you, “I didn’t realize they were coming to do pitch maintenance already, I’ll pack up and go-“ she starts to ramble as you realize she hasn’t noticed that it’s you who is standing in front of her.

You move your eyes down at the grass, kicking some up unsure of what to do now while you wait for her to reach you and realize you’re in fact not the maintenance crew.

“What are you doing here?” Her accusatory tone returns and you look up to meet her eyes. Just as you’d seen from across the field her cheeks remained bright red, a layer of sweat making her whole face shine. Her lips are slightly parted and her breathing is quick. Her brown eyes that you used to stare at everyday are now puffy, as though she shed some tears following the game and you can’t help but stare for a second at her black eye. She cocks her head at you and you realize she’s waiting for an answer.

“Um, I just… I heard you. And I just wanted to check on you,” you realize you should’ve spent some of the time you were watching her kick thinking of what to say to her.

“I don’t need your pity party,” Jessie scoffs at you “don’t you have some celebrating to do?”

“I’m not here to pity you,” her change in tone makes you get defensive.

“Then what? You’re here to tell me it’s okay? That it’s fine it’s just a penalty, and maybe it feels that way to you,” she stabs her index finger into your chest, her touch surprises you. Both being midfielders you had contact during the game but that was different.

Before you were just the opponent in the same way she was yours, you were aware of her but in that moment she was just Jessie Fleming, a Canada’s midfielder who you needed to get the ball from. Now she was Jess, the girl you were roommates with, the girl whose shoulder you fell asleep on during a long travel day, the girl who you tutored in calculus while she in return tutored you in physics. Her whole face now just inches from yours. You share a similar height with the midfielder, leaving you eye to eye. You can feel her breath as she continues.

“You made your penalty, and you don’t have to wear the armband, you don’t have to sit with the expectation of never missing a penalty, but I do. And you didn’t let your whole team down, I did. So maybe it seems like not a big deal to you because you’re not the one going home!”

You feel like sinking into one of the puddles on the grass, this was a bad idea, you shouldn’t have bothered her. Before you can think of something to say Jessie starts again.

“Nothing? You have nothing to say to me? Then again, why did you come out here? To gloat? Because last time I checked, we’re not even friends anymore and that’s no fault of mine, that was all you, you ignored me, so why even bother? Just leave me alone, go away.”

Her words telling you that she doesn’t even consider you a friend anymore, sting. Sure it was nowhere near like it was before but you still would classify Jessie as a friend. You have every urge to tell her the truth, that you couldn’t stand seeing her with someone else and to protect yourself you took a step back. You wanted to tell her you never meant for it to silence your relationship, you just wanted to respect hers and that meant distancing yourself. Instead, you opted with the easy way out, “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever,” her brown eyes roll as she turns away from you.

“Jess, wait,” the short form of her name falling out of your mouth on accident. Hoping she’ll stay, you reach out grabbing her wrist preventing her from turning all the way away from you.

“I promise I didn’t come here to give you pity, honestly I’m not sure what I’m doing here.” You feel her shake your grasp from her wrist but instead of leaving she turns back facing you. “I just, I heard you and, I,” You try looking into her eyes but she’s staring at her hands that are fidgeting with the hem of her jersey.

“You already said that.” Jessie cuts you off

“I know, I know, I just,” you bring your hands up to cover your eyes rubbing your fingers along your forehead, hoping you’ll be able to squeeze the right words out of your brain. “I think I wanted to see you.” You admit finally, hoping it’s not too much at the moment.

“We just played 120 minutes against each other, you had plenty of chances to see me.” She throws back at you, her brown eyes still avoiding yours.

You begin to feel a tightness in your throat, a feeling all too familiar to you, making it harder to breathe, you start blinking away the tears that are trying to surface. You’re grateful she isn’t looking at your face. you recognize the same emotions that you felt when she had told you she was in a relationship.

Jessie had been so excited to tell you, and you tried your best to act excited for her, you really did. You had forced yourself to ask questions you really didn’t want to know the answers to. Asking about their first date, first kiss, other firsts, what Jessie liked about her, providing the typical best friend interrogation. What Jessie didn’t know was when she had hung up the phone, telling you she had to go as she was going to spend the night at her girlfriend’s, the tightness had taken over and you burst into tears.

In the moment it didn’t make sense to you, you summed it up to missing her and missing spending time with her. It took a couple months to realize your feelings were ones of jealousy. You wanted to be the girl she spent her nights with. You wanted Jessie to call up Janine and gush about you, not some other girl. And that’s when you started to pull away.

“That’s not the same, I, I just wanted to see you,” you let out a shaky breath, trying to relax before tears spill over, “I miss you.” The words come out as a whisper, almost quiet enough that you hope Jessie didn’t hear and you can move on.

A silence falls between the two of you, Jessie’s fingers are still playing with the hem of her shirt, her eyes glued to them. You look up, staring at what would be a starry night had it not been for the rain clouds covering the sky. It feels like time stops, neither of you moving, no one says anything. You stand there, looking up, while Jessie stands, looking down.

“Why now?” Jessie’s voice cracks, you can’t tell for a second if she’s looking for an answer but she continues on, “You could’ve called, or at least texted.”

“It takes you 3 to 5 business days to respond to a text.” A small laugh comes out as you say the sentence, hoping it’ll lighten the mood.

“I know, but for you,” she pauses slightly, “I would’ve answered in a heartbeat.”

Her words catch you off guard and you swing your head down. You unexpectedly meet Jessie's eyes. She’s got one hand running through her damp hair, the other resting by her side. Her stare feels intense, being under her watch gives you a feeling that sits somewhere between comfort and cowardice.

You’re lost for words, racking your brain for the right thing to say. Part of you says fuck it, tell her you love her, that you want her in every way, tell her you were jealous, you couldn’t stand seeing her with another girl, you want her to be yours and only yours.

The other and far more logical part of you says push it down, you don’t want to scare her off, you want your friend back, even if it means hearing about her girlfriend.

You’re saved from having to make a choice between the angel and devil that split your brain as your phone buzzed and a slew of texts from Lynn and Midge came in. You quickly grab your phone from your sweatpant pocket, turning the ringer off to silence the tone from going off again. You quickly skim the texts which consist of variations of ‘where are you’. You catch the time at the top of your screen realizing the game had ended nearly 2 hours ago. Sure, you had done some media, showered, and changed, but you hadn’t realized how late it was and just how long you had been standing around either watching or talking with Jessie.

“You should probably join them.” Jessie says, almost as if she could see your texts from your teammates asking when you were going to be at the bar.

“Yeah I probably should, I didn’t realize the time. The last thing I need is them sending a search party and finding me with the enemy.” You nudge her with your elbow. She gives you a quick tight lipped smile.

“I’ll uh, I’ll see you around?” You add in a raise in your voice in hopes she takes that as an invitation.

“I don’t know,” Jessie pauses, eyebrows creasing as she thinks of what to say next. “It’s just, I’m dealing with a lot right now, moving, captain responsibilities, some personal things. I just don’t know if I can add another thing on my plate right now. Maybe give me some time?” Her response isn’t the one you wanted, but you realize it’s better than a complete shutdown on her end. At least some small part of her was open to letting you back in.

“Of course, I understand the moving countries part, I mean. The rest of your stuff I don’t know about, I mean the personal stuff, and then the captain part.” You find yourself rambling at her. “But yeah that’s fine. I’ll be going.” You point your thumb in the direction of the tunnel.

She turns away, this time you let her walk away. You watch her for a moment before turning yourself and heading back to the tunnel toward your car. Just when you reach the start of the tunnel you hear it again. The sound of Jessie’s boot kicking the ball and the sound of the ball hitting the net. You turn around watching as she grabs another ball between her hands, rolls it around and then bends down to place it.

“Hey Fleming,” you call to her as she releases the ball on the ground and starts to map out her steps. You watch as she turns back over her shoulder locking eyes with you, raising her eyebrows nonverbally acknowledging your call, “Be a good teammate to yourself.”

You carry on to the parking lot, picking up your phone and calling Lynn to let her know you were leaving the stadium now. While you were too distracted on the phone, what you didn’t realize was the absence of the sound of Jessie kicking the ball.

Your words had caught her off guard, she hadn’t heard it in a few years, you last said it to her after she had a rough game at Chelsea. The simple phrase brought back feelings surrounding you that she had pushed down for a while now. She stood, staring at the ball she had just placed, taking a deep breath like she did before every penalty. Only this time, instead of stepping toward the ball with force, she simple walked toward it, picked it up and headed to grab the bag and clean up. She realized she had punished herself enough, the loss still hurt, but with your words and the smile on your face as you said it fresh in her mind, it hurt a little less.

#jessie fleming #jflem #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagine #canwnt #portland thorns #canxnt #woso x reader #woso imagine

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kasgdaskpraca · 8 months ago

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Kto wygrał Ligę Mistrzów w poprzednim sezonie?

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Kto wygrał Ligę Mistrzów w poprzednim sezonie?

W poprzednim sezonie Liga Mistrzów UEFA była świadkiem pojedynków na najwyższym poziomie piłkarskim. Zwycięzcą tamtej edycji była drużyna, która potrafiła zaskoczyć swoją determinacją i umiejętnościami. Ich imponujące zwycięstwo w finale zapadło w pamięć wszystkim fanom piłki nożnej na całym świecie.

Drużyna ta pokazała niezwykłą siłę i charakter podczas całego turnieju, prezentując wysoki poziom taktyki i umiejętności indywidualnych każdego z zawodników. Ich determinacja i zaangażowanie sprawiły, że zasłużenie wywalczyli tytuł mistrzowski.

Zwycięstwo w Lidze Mistrzów jest niezwykle prestiżowe i buduje chwałę drużyny na arenie międzynarodowej. To osiągnięcie potwierdza, że są oni jednymi z najlepszych w Europie i potrafią konkurować z największymi potęgami piłkarskimi na świecie.

Dla kibiców tej drużyny to był czas niezapomnianych emocji i dumy z sukcesów swoich ulubieńców. W przyszłym sezonie wszyscy będą przeżywać kolejne zmagania swojej drużyny z jeszcze większym zapałem i nadzieją na równie spektakularne zwycięstwa.

Zwycięzca Ligi Mistrzów poprzedniego sezonu udowodnił, że marzenia można spełnić, jeśli się naprawdę w nie wierzy i ciężko na nie pracuje. Jego historia będzie zapisana na kartach historii futbolu na długo jako przykład determinacji i pasji, które prowadzą do sukcesu.

W finale Ligi Mistrzów sezonu 2021/2022 zmierzyły się ze sobą dwie potężne drużyny, zapełniając serca kibiców futbolem najwyższej jakości. Po emocjonującym starciu na Stadionie Olimpijskim w Monachium, Bayern Monachium i FC Barcelona rozstrzygnęli losy tego prestiżowego turnieju.

Mecz rozpoczął się z dużym napięciem, obie drużyny starały się kontrolować grę i szukać słabych punktów w obronie przeciwnika. W pierwszej połowie Bayern Monachium objął prowadzenie po golu z rzutu karnego, jednak FC Barcelona szybko odpowiedziała strzałem z dystansu wyrównując wynik. Druga połowa była równie zacięta, obie drużyny miały swoje okazje do zdobycia decydującej bramki, ale brakowało skuteczności w końcowym wykończeniu.

Ostatecznie po regulaminowym czasie gry, doszło do dogrywki, w której to zawodnicy Bayernu Monachium zdobyli bramkę dającą im zwycięstwo i tytuł Mistrza Ligi Mistrzów. Po emocjonującym starciu, kibice z całego świata mieli okazję podziwiać najlepszych piłkarzy na świecie walczących o najważniejsze trofeum klubowe w Europie.

Finał Ligi Mistrzów to zawsze wyjątkowe wydarzenie, pełne niespodzianek i niezapomnianych chwil, które sprawiają, że futbol to nie tylko gra, ale prawdziwe uczucia i pasja. Bayren Monachium i FC Barcelona dostarczyły nam niezapomnianego widowiska, godnego finału tej prestiżowej ligi. Czekamy z niecierpliwością na kolejne edycje i emocjonujące starcia o mistrzostwo Europy.

Drużyna zdobywająca Puchar Ligi Mistrzów w piłce nożnej odnosi największy sukces na europejskiej scenie klubowej. Jest to zaszczytne osiągnięcie dla każdej drużyny, która sięgnie po ten prestiżowy trofeum. Puchar Ligi Mistrzów jest rozgrywany co roku przez najlepsze kluby z całej Europy, a droga do finału jest długa i wymagająca.

Drużyna, która pragnie zdobyć Puchar Ligi Mistrzów, musi pokonać wiele silnych przeciwników na swojej drodze. Od grupowej fazy rozgrywek, poprzez emocjonujące mecze w pucharowej fazie, aż po decydujący mecz finałowy – zwycięstwo jest rezultatem ciężkiej pracy, determinacji i umiejętności.

Zdobywając Puchar Ligi Mistrzów, drużyna staje się bohaterem nie tylko w oczach swoich kibiców, ale również na całym kontynencie. To potwierdzenie dominacji i doskonałości na najwyższym poziomie piłki nożnej klubowej. Triumf w tej prestiżowej rozgrywce daje drużynie nieśmiertelną chwałę i miejsce w historii europejskiego futbolu.

Puchar Ligi Mistrzów jest marzeniem każdego zawodnika i trenera, symbolizuje najlepsze, co można osiągnąć w klubowej piłce nożnej. Dla każdego zwycięzcy to nie tylko trofeum, ale także dowód na wielkie poświęcenie, poświęcony czas i ciężką pracę. Drużyna zdobywająca Puchar Ligi Mistrzów na zawsze zostaje zapisana w legendzie futbolu i zyskuje uznanie na całym świecie.

Historia zdobywców Ligi Mistrzów

Liga Mistrzów to prestiżowe rozgrywki klubowe w piłce nożnej, które od lat przyciągają uwagę milionów kibiców z całego świata. Od samego początku istnienia turnieju w 1955 roku, wiele drużyn z całej Europy walczyło o miano najlepszego zespołu kontynentu. W ciągu ponad sześćdziesięcioletniej historii zdobywców Ligi Mistrzów mogliśmy śledzić wiele niezapomnianych momentów, emocjonujących spotkań i legendarnych piłkarzy.

Real Madryt jest rekordzistą pod względem liczby zwycięstw w Lidze Mistrzów, zdobywając trofeum aż 13 razy. Klub ten od dawna stanowił dominującą siłę w rozgrywkach i przyniósł wiele chwil chwały swoim kibicom. Inne wielkie europejskie zespoły, takie jak FC Barcelona, AC Milan, Bayern Monachium czy Liverpool, również mogą poszczycić się imponującym dorobkiem trofeów w tej elitarnej imprezie.

Herosi poszczególnych finałów Ligi Mistrzów, tacy jak Zinedine Zidane, Lionel Messi, Cristiano Ronaldo czy Paolo Maldini, stali się ikonami światowego futbolu dzięki swoim niesamowitym umiejętnościom i zasługom dla swoich drużyn. Emocjonujące rozstrzygnięcia, dramatyczne dogrywki i niezapomniane bramki sprawiają, że Liga Mistrzów pozostaje jednym z najbardziej cenionych turniejów sportowych na świecie.

W kolejnych edycjach turnieju z pewnością będziemy świadkami wielu wstrząsających momentów, które na zawsze zapiszą się w historii futbolu. Liga Mistrzów to nie tylko rywalizacja sportowa, ale również spektakl, który porusza emocje kibiców na całym globie.

Triumfator Ligi Mistrzów to drużyna piłkarska, która zwyciężyła w prestiżowym turnieju klubowym UEFA Champions League. Ta wyjątkowa drużyna odnosi wielki sukces, pokonując najlepsze kluby z całej Europy w emocjonujących meczach pełnych napięcia i rywalizacji.

Informacje o triumfatorze Ligi Mistrzów są niezwykle cenne dla fanów piłki nożnej oraz miłośników sportu. Wygrana w tym turnieju to ogromne osiągnięcie, które przynosi sławę i uznanie zarówno zawodnikom, jak i klubowi, który reprezentują. Triumfator jest określany mianem mistrza Europy, co dodatkowo podkreśla prestiżowy charakter tytułu.

Historia Ligi Mistrzów obfituje w niezapomniane chwile i legendarne zwycięstwa, które na zawsze pozostają w pamięci kibiców. Każdy triumfator pozostawia ślad w historii futbolu i staje się częścią legendy tego wyjątkowego turnieju.

Dla graczy i trenerów sięgających po zwycięstwo w Lidze Mistrzów, to moment chwały i potwierdzenie ich umiejętności oraz determinacji. Sukces ten wymaga ogromnego wysiłku, poświęcenia i zaangażowania, dlatego informacje o triumfatorze Ligi Mistrzów są zawsze doniosłe dla całej społeczności sportowej.

Podsumowując, wygrana w Lidze Mistrzów to marzenie każdej drużyny piłkarskiej i szczytowe osiągnięcie w karierze każdego zawodnika. Triumfatorzy są zasłużenie wielbieni za swoje wspaniałe zwycięstwa i to właśnie informacje o nich inspirują i motywują kolejne pokolenia do dążenia do sukcesu na europejskich boiskach.

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