#headers everton

[kccisfuckingmagical]

Rivals all the way

(Nathalie Björn x Arsenal!Swedish!Reader)

Warning: none

You are a Swedish fullback.

It is almost comical how you and Nathalie always end up in rival clubs.

Djurgården is in your blood. Ever since your great grandfather’s neighbours’ second cousin Lars played for said Stockholm club, for generations, your family has been loyal supporters of the Blue Stripes (Blåränderna). So, when Djurgårdens IF knocked on your door and scouted you after playing a stellar season for your local third tier club at the age of 14, you were committed immediately. Which, of course, your amazing break in the first tier league Damallsvenskan did not happen as Djurgårdens were relegated just several months after you signed.

Yet, you still developed greatly after playing in a much more professional environment, and your role was instrumental in promoting your club back to 2016 Damallsvenskan after four years of hard work and grit, and with the obscene amount of headers you scored, placing you the 2nd most scorer for the Sweden 2nd tier league.

You had known Nathalie since youth camps, but it was during your final years at Gymnasium in Stockholm that your bond solidified despite playing for a rival club in Stockholm.

And when she moved to Rosengård in 2018, you transferred to Kopparbergs/Göteborg FC (which later merged and renamed to BK Häcken in 2021). And for the women side, it had an even more intense rivalry than your local Stockholm AIK vs Djurgårdens derby, with both teams fighting top places in Damallsvenskan.

In 2018 Damallsvenskan season, your club Göteborg came 2nd when her club Rosengård, came 3rd. In 2019, Rosengård became champions when Göteborg still ranked 2nd. And finally, in 2020, your club came first and her club came second. 2021, Nathalie transferred to Everton after half a season into the Swedish league, and your club still came second when her former club Rosengård reigned champions again. You stayed in the renamed club BK Häcken until 2022 summer window, where you have received a lucrative offer from a WSL club.

It was a newly repromoted team, the Merseyside arch-rival of Everton, the REDS, The Liverpool who wanted you after their reformation, and they were willing to make one of the most lucrative offers ever for a Swedish female footballer with guaranteed game time and an ambitious tactical talk with Matt Beard sealed the deal.

So you moved to Liverpool, and moving straight into your girlfriend of seven years’ apartment, which she cleared half of the closet, half of the sink, half of the walls, half of the shelves, half of the couch, and half of the bed.

And you filled her originally Rosengård and Everton’s blue themed (with occasional black with yellow accents of AIK) apartment with unapologetic Liverpool’s red mugs, Kopparbergs/Göteborg’s blue and white cusions, BK Häcken’s yellow and black blankets, and your very own Djurgården legend Daniel Sjölund’s signed jersey was framed upon the apartment wall amongst your jerseys from the 2020 Tokyo Olympic where you won your silver medals alongside with your national team.

It was almost comical when Nathalie’s teammates from Everton stepped foot on your now shared apartment after you moved in.

Gabby George did a double take when she moved pass the hallway, Izzy Christiansen dramatically gasped when she looked into the living room, putting her right hand over her heart, and your Swedish teammate Hanna Bennison whom Nathalie previously played with in Rosengård, looked at Nathalie like she’d committed treason.

Or maybe because she did.

Aggie Beever-Jones, the loaned Chelsea homegrown, was wheezing with laughter, “what a fucking live size Mighty Red is doing in your living room mate?”

Hanna looked at Nathalie warily, “you aren’t a secretly BK Häcken fan right? That’s a Häcken wine glass. Why does anyone need a glass with Häcken emblem on it?”

Megan Finnigan looked as though she was betrayed by her own child. When she started walking backwards, as if she was going to burst out from the front door, she spotted on her peripheral vision a new IKEA shoe shelf filled with Adidas cleats and footwear, as opposed to Nathalie’s sponsored Nike merchandise, and it finally clicked in her head.

“Are you dating an enemy, Nathalie Björn?” Megan asked cautiously.

“Not dating, I married one! Min älskling, y/n, come on out and say hello to my teammates!” Nathalie beamed at her own teammates and called out to the kitchen.

And you, who just finished your second training session with Liverpool, with wet hair and flushed pink cheeks, left your kitchen, hands balancing a giant board of sliced fruits. Nathalie grabbed Hanna and rushed to kitchen and brought back out two large jars of unsweetened lemonade, a pot of honey to self serve, and utensils to go with.

You, who were wearing a blazing red hoodie with a Liverpool crest larger than a your head, popped yourselves amongst the Blues like it was just a random Tuesday afternoon and you were all friends hanging around for a coffee, and with the same beaming smile Nathalie was having.

“Hi, enemies!” You greeted the toffees enthusiastically.

Hanna stared. “Nej, nej, nej. No ‘hi, enemies’. I helvete (in hell), since when are you married? Better question, to your mortal enemy Nati? Your biggest rival who somehow landed in your rival club again?” she exclaimed incredulously.

“Hanna, I thought we were friends!” You looked betrayed.

“Nej, only in national camps, otherwise you are my enemy. And she is your enemy too Nati!”

Nathalie was unfazed. “We married just before I decided to transfer to the blues. Couldn’t bear the idea of a longer long distance than ever. And Y/N is having my last name on her Liverpool jersey, crazy right?”

Izzy was stunned, and high-fived Nathalie, “that’s clever, one way to infiltrate into the enemies nest.”

“What do you mean mortal enemy and rival club again?” Aggie was curious.

“Oh, I was playing for Djurgårdens when she played for AIK, which was a bit like a North London derby but a Stockholm one. And when she played for Rosengård, and I played for Kopparbergs/Göteborg, and it was a bit like Arsenal—Chelsea rivalry, both gunning for the top spot.” You explained absentmindedly, cutting a grape in half to remove the seeds inside with a small fork and a paring knife.

“And out of every club there is in WSL, you chose Liverpool!?” Hanna was still very much in shock.

“That’s just football my friend.” You answered absentmindedly, popping the now peeled and deseeded half green grape into your mouth. Nathalie stole the other half with a swift motion with her fork from your plate.

Needless to say, you had been quite interrogated into the Blues despite being a Red after this small spontaneous gathering.

Fast forwards to 2024.

Nathalie Björn adjusted the collar of her new Chelsea jersey, the royal blue fabric still feeling foreign against her skin. The move to London had been a whirlwind—new teammates, new tactics, and a city that buzzed with a different energy than Stockholm or Merseyside. But one thing hadn’t changed: the way her heart still skipped when her phone buzzed with a notification from y/n.

[Min älskling]: Guess who are signing to the red side of London?

Nathalie nearly choked on her coffee.

[Blue Nathalie]: You’re joking.

[Min älskling]: Nope. They needed a left-back after Catley’s injury. Beard wasn’t happy, but… it’s a two-year deal.

Nathalie groaned, tipping her head back against the locker room bench. Of course you’d end up at Arsenal. It was almost poetic—the universe’s way of balancing the scales after she’d dared to marry a player that had been her rival ever since the beginning of her career.

"Everything alright, Björn?" Millie Bright clapped her on the shoulder, eyebrow raised.

"Fine," Nathalie muttered, locking her phone. "Just… family stuff."

Chelsea squad had acclimated to Nathalie quickly. She was sharp in training, dryly funny during film sessions, and—most importantly—unshakable in defense. She was unproblematic, and quickly found herself immersed into the squad with the help of her Swedish teammates, and ex-Everton teammate Aggie Beever-Jones.

At least until…

Two days days later, when the transfer news break out, Nathalie was halfway through her morning coffee when Aggie Beever-Jones slammed her phone onto the breakfast table.

*ARSENAL SIGN SWEDISH INTERNATIONAL Y/N BJÖRN FROM LIVERPOOL*

"Björn. Explain."

Nathalie blinked. "Explain what?"

Aggie turned her screen around. The Sky Sports notification glared back at them:

*BREAKING: Arsenal sign Swedish international Y/N Björn from Liverpool – two-year deal confirmed*

Johanna who was sitting beside Nathalie peered into the screen, blinked, and all of a sudden, bursted out with laughter. “Ooh, Iconic Y/N behaviour, just to keep the rivalry alive!”

Sam Kerr who overheard was curious. “Y/N Björn, are you two sisters or something?”

Nathalie didn’t even glance up. "Nej, Y/N is my wife."

Silence. Then—

"Your what?" Lauren James screeched.

Nathalie blinked, realizing her mistake. She’d been so used to Everton knowing, so used to the WSL’s gossip mill spinning her business, that she’d forgotten: Chelsea didn’t know.

"...So," Erin Cuthbert said, voice dangerously calm. "When were you going to tell us your wife is Arsenal's new left-back?"

Nathalie shrugged. "I thought everyone knows!”

“What the actual hell, mate?” Sam Kerr squinted. "I thought you were literal fraternal twins. You’ve got the same brunette hair, brown eyes, sharp cheekbones, long legs and the Scandinavian superiority complex. I could have sworn you both used the same blocking technique when I played against Liverpool and Everton!"

Millie was astonished. “I just thought Björn is just a common last name in Sweden?”

Nathalie took a slow slip of her coffee, “Nej, Y/N and I have been married since we were 23 years old. Come on guys, no need to make a fuss, it is really not that dramatic.”

"Not dramatic?!" Jess Carter threw her hands up. "You’re telling me you’ve been married to Arsenal’s new signing for four years and the WOSO gossip mill missed it?"

Nathalie didn’t blink. “I’m sure some fans must have speculated it, and how is it my fault when you don’t have friends from Everton or Liverpool who can share all the gossips with you? Aggie, the Swedes, most of the Scandinavian in WSL knows about us.”

Ashley Lawrence, ever the voice of reason, tilted her head. "Wait. If you married in 2020… does that mean when you were at Rosengård—"

"—y/n was at Göteborg" Guro Reiten finished, who somehow heard of the rumour but didn’t pay too much attention beforehand, amused. "And then, you were in Everton, and she was in Liverpool. Gud, Nathi. You’ve really got a type, don’t you? Rivals."

Nathalie shrugged, fighting a smirk. "What can I say? I like a challenge."

And the London derby couldn’t come soon enough.

The tunnel at Emirates Stadium hummed with pre-match tension. Nathalie was starting this match (a last-minute substitution with Millie injured) and tried to ignore the way her pulse thudded when she spotted you.

You were stretching near the Arsenal squad, your red-and-white away kit a stark contrast to Chelsea’s blues. But then you turned, caught her eye, and winked.

Nathalie bit back a smile and discretely did a finger wave to you.

“Oi, Björn!” Aggie hissed. “Quite flirting with your rival on a derby day!”

Nathalie coughed and crouched down, pretending to check her shin pads to hide her blush.

The match was brutal. Arsenal pressed high, Chelsea countered fast, and the tackles flew in like neither side remembered this was technically a non-contact sport.

At 18th minute, you overlapped down the left wing, and Nathalie flattened you with a clean but brutal shoulder charge. The crowd roared. You shoved her back when you got up. She grinned.

34th minute, Chelsea corner, you knew full well Nathalie’s airborne ability. So you kept on pushing her while her elbow kept digging into you. Your squabble got a bit too much out of hand and the ref decided to give both of you a warning. Manu pushed away the header from Aggie’s attempt and you swept it out for a Chelsea throw in.

37th minute. You tackled Nathalie cleanly when she decided to run up the field to make an offensive run. She fell and rolled over, groaning dramatically, claiming for a foul while you complained to the ref for her “diving”, and should give her a warning instead for her unsportsmanlike behaviour. You got a yellow card for talking back to the ref, and she got a yellow for time wasting.

Five minutes later, when Beth went down from a foul by Ashley Lawrence. The cameras caught you sharing a water bottle. The commentators were confused. “Are they…laughing? They were gunning for each other all day?!"

Then, in the 63rd minute, it happened.

You intercepted a pass meant for Lauren James, dribbled past two blue shirts, and went 1v1 on Nathalie. You could’ve passed. You should’ve passed. Caitlin was waiting on an overlap, Kim was not too far away. But you saw Stina was sprinting towards the back post, pace unmatched.

So, you nutmegged her. Nathalie’s face was priceless—half fury, half pride—but you were already gone, and setting a cross so perfect that Stina headed it into the net with utmost ease.

1-0 to Arsenal.

Frida, who just went off to the bench screamed in joys and jokingly told with Amanda in a hybrid of Swedish and Norwegian: “SHE’S SLEEPING ON THE COUCH TONIGHT!"

The Emirates erupted. You turned toward the Chelsea half and grinned directly at Nathalie and kissed your taped ring finger. Nathalie knew that you would probably write the cutest little N and a red heart beside it on your tape. And you turned your heel and ran towards Stina, your best friend from Swedish National Team, and pampered multiple kisses onto her head, while eyes locked directly into Nathalie.

Erin gaped. "Did she just—"

"Kiss her ring finger? And proceed to kiss our best friend just to rub it in? Yes." Nathalie deadpanned. "We’re one goal behind. Erin. Focus."

But when the final whistle blew (1-1, thanks to a last-minute Kerr’s equaliser), Nathalie didn’t high-five her own teammates just yet, and instead jogged toward the Arsenal bench—where you were substitute off at 68 minutes for Katie McCabe.

The cameras caught it all: the way you pulled her into a hug, the way she muttered something in your ear that made you laugh, the way your hands lingered just a second too long, the way you brushed her stray stand of sweaty hair off her face, and the way Guro and Frida crackling with each other, fingers pointing at you both, when you two smiled at each other a bit too much.

And the internet got hold of it.

@ReitenFans03: Nathalie Björn (Chelsea) and Y/N Björn (Arsenal) just hugged it out after the derby. Are they related?

@WOSO_Insider: Breaking: Arsenal New Defender Y/N Björn from Liverpool shares a bottle with Chelsea’s New Defender Nathalie Björn after 1-1 London derby draw.

@FootyBanter: Swedish invasion! The Björn siblings taking over London derbies!

The speculation lasted exactly 37 minutes until Hanna Bennison, ever the agent of chaos, quote-tweeted a fan account with:

@HannaBennison8 (verified): Not sisters. Married. Also, their old apartment had a life-size Liverpool Mighty Red in the living room and a set of Häcken tableware. Yes, really. No, I’m not okay.

On instagram, ChelseaFCW posted:*[Highlights of Nathalie’s tackles]*

In response, ArsenalWFC posted: *[Clip of your nutmeg on Nathalie and assist to Stina]* with a cheeky caption *Björn MAGIC 👀👀*

WOSO_Memes posted a side-by-side photos: Nathalie shouldering you to the ground vs. you side-tackling her with a shit-eating grin. Caption: *Marriage*

Then, the pièce de résistance – an old photo resurfaced, courtesy of Hanna: You and Nathalie in your first rival derby (AIK vs. Djurgården, 2015), mid-shoving match. The caption?

*Some things never change.*

Later in the evening, you posted some match photos alongside with a frame of Nathalie’s foul on you, a goal celebration with Stina, a post match moment of you and Nathalie hugging together, and lastly, a photo of you two cuddling each other under a Swedish national team blanket on your sofa, her Chelsea hoodie and your Arsenal one tangled together, a Häcken wine glass in frame, and a framed Djurgården jersey behind you, with Nathalie cuddling an Everton throw pillow and the life size Mighty Red just sitting beside you. Caption: *Another Björn vs Björn. Scoreline: 1-1. Truce until next derby.*

[delfiore]

—MY DEAREST FRIEND AND ENEMY. (2/5)

pairing: ona batlle x fem!reader

synopsis: you and ona become much closer, but in the wrong way; an offer on the horizon threatens to tear you apart.

word count: 3.7k

warnings: description of collision in football

PART I, PART III, PART IV, PART V

Sports Illustrated: USWNT International Y/N Y/L/N Scores in First Game Back From Injury “Y/N Y/L/N will not stop scoring. The Man City star returns to action with a stunning header in a home game against Everton since picking up an injury this summer in the CONCACAF final against Canada. Though the U.S. emerged victorious thanks to Alex Morgan’s penalty kick, Y/L/N was forced off in the 68th minute with a torn hamstring. She was expected to be sidelined for 3 months. […]”

You skimmed through the article, waiting for your coffee to brew. It has been an arduous few months as you focused on rehabilitation. You were supposed to be match-fit at the start of the season, but the physios determined you needed at least a few more weeks before you could play. Your thigh still felt a bit tight every time you stretched them. Nonetheless, you were back to playing, that was all that mattered.

It was early November, and the winds were picking up in Manchester, and yet you were warm.

“Morning,” you said, smiling at the figure waddling into the living room.

Bratwurst was wagging his tail by her side, no doubt looking for more food as if you hadn’t fed him half an hour ago.

“Good morning,” Ona said, rubbing her eyes.

“Coffee?” You nodded towards the machine.

“No, I have to get to training. Thanks, though.”

“In my shirt?” You smirked at looked down at her top. Sure enough, it was the old T-shirt you lent her after you were done last night.

“Hah hah.” She mocked you, but then took off the shirt, leaving her top half completely bare, and threw it at your face. “Obviously not.”

You let your eyes travel freely, as she went back into your room and returned wearing the clothes she came in last night.

“Looks like you’re back to being your insufferable self.” She walked to where you sat, putting on her necklace. “Can’t even go on social media without seeing people praising your goal.”

“All in a day’s work,” you said, grinning.

Ona rolled her eyes and put on her shoes. “I’m glad you’re back, but I won’t go easy on you.”

You stood up and pecked her lips.

“I never asked you to,” you leaned closer, ducking your face into her neck. “Maybe when we’re alone.”

She snickered quietly and patted your cheek. “Try not to miss me too much. Bye-bye, Bratwurst.”

The pup sat by the door as he watched her close it behind her. Ever since she started spending time at your apartment, it felt like he liked her more, always following her around and snuggling with her as she gave him pets.

Ona had been coming over since the kiss at the end of last season with the premise of meaningless sex. You both had an arrangement, and you were committed to keeping to it. You were surprised when she suggested it, thinking her not to be the type, but Ona continues to surprise you.

You had only meant to meet up over dinner to talk about what happened, but the night ended with her hands tangled in your hair and your legs tangled in her sheets. The ups and downs these past few months never deterred you from seeing each other. In fact, Spain losing out in the Euros prompted her to come over and forget about it for a night. In a way, you both had each other.

Your teammates at Man City were especially amused whenever you’d forget to cover up and come to practice with marks on your neck.

“Who’s the unlucky gal this time, Y/N?”

“Have you been busy while you were injured?”

Every time, you would just shake your head with a grin because you’d never kiss and tell. Also, because Leila and Laia would flip out if they knew you’d been screwing their teammate on the national team.

Your arrangement worked for a while, both of you still too young and too committed to football to think about anything else. While a lot of your colleagues would disagree, it was the excuse you told yourself to fully admit that what you felt for Ona was beyond just carnal desires.

You were treading on dangerous waters, your feelings bubbling to the surface every time you saw the girl. It was much more challenging to keep them under wraps, especially when you had to play against her every couple of months. From what people knew about you two, you were rivals, and that was your relationship. Rumors of a romance surfaced too, amongst younger fans, but it was the result of baseless shipping. If only they knew.

Ona wasn’t an incredibly affectionate person, not by a mile. The only times you would catch her lowering her guard by the tiniest of margins were when she was tired, maybe then she’d let you cuddle her after sex. But you remembered when Spain was knocked out of the Euros way too soon, and she was crying on the phone to you. You had just won the CONCACAF with the US across the Atlantic, and yet all you wanted was to hold her.

And so that was what you did. Two days later, after you were dismissed from your international duties, you flew back to Manchester and waited for her. Ona liked to be the little spoon whenever she was sad, and you were very happy to oblige. If she was feeling generous, she would even thank you for it. As much as you wanted to, you never teased her about it, because you knew what you had was fragile, and a slight mention of it could topple everything to the ground.

That was how it was with your Spanish beauty.

“Wooooooow . . . You’ve got a handful,” said your teammate, Chloe, as she stood in your kitchen, eating your chips.

“Yup,” you pressed your lips thinly, grabbing some seasoning from the cupboard. “That’s my life right now.”

You proceeded to tell Chloe everything one day, omitting a few saucy details, of course.

“Have you tried talking to her about it?”

“That’s the thing, though. There’s nothing to talk about. I can’t just walk up to her and demand something that wasn’t part of the arrangement to begin with.”

“I know, but it’s clearly affecting you. You like her, don’t you?”

“No.” A few seconds of silence followed, and Chloe was looking at you with a glare. “Okay, I think she’s cute, like, really cute.”

“I think you should talk to her, Y/N,” Chloe said. “Worst case scenario, you lot stop whatever you’re doing with each other behind all of our backs. Best case scenario, you date her.”

You smirked, but nothing no usual quippy or smug remark came out. “I should try,” you spoke quietly.

Chloe nodded expectantly and continued eating her chips, now. “I can’t believe it. You tricked all of us! It was Batlle all this time!”

“I didn’t think you’d come tonight,” you whispered quietly into the room, sitting by the edge of your bed.

Ona was under the covers, on her phone. “Why? ‘Cause we played against each other?”

You nodded bashfully.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” she set her phone down. “Or did you not want me to come?”

“It’s a little too late for that, don’t you think?” You said, gesturing at the clothes strewn on the floor.

You let her study you for a moment, finding the ruffled sheets much more interesting instead.

“What’s wrong?” She said.

“Nothing.”

“You’re too quiet.” Her voice was low and calming. She reached out and caressed your hand. You wanted to bury your face in her neck and be done with the conversation instead.

“I was just wondering . . . would you like to come over a bit earlier from now on?”

Your question made her look at you with a puzzled expression. “Have I been staying too late?”

“No, no. I mean—you can stay as late as you want, but come a bit earlier. I can cook for us, and then we can just sit and . . . talk.”

You fumbled with your fingers, your eyes drifting up to her, seeing the realization dawn on her. She exhaled. “Okay, that sounds nice . . . but as friends, right?”

“Um . . . no?”

“Y/N,” Ona breathed. Her silence was killing you. Finally, she looked up. “That wasn’t our arrangement, and I’d like for it to stay as we’ve agreed. You’re okay with that, right?”

“Yeah,” you lied, caressing her arm and flashing a smile. “It’s for the best.”

She nodded but watched you closely. “Come here,” she whispered.

You obliged, letting her pull you into her embrace. A searing kiss followed, leaving you to straddle her bare waist.

A short gasp left your lips. “Fuck me, Ona.” You pleaded quietly, hoping she’d fuck you until you forget the conversation ever happened. But you also hoped she’d go slow and make love to you, proving that she’d finally reciprocated your feelings.

You’ve decided that you wanted both. Maybe then, you’d finally get what you wanted.

You didn’t know that Ona was scared to let you in too, so she settled for sleeping with you.

You had been an obsession of hers for three years, a game she played besides having to focus on the actual game she was paid to play. But now, here she was—sleeping with someone who could possibly be her mortal enemy. She didn’t know when, but suddenly, she couldn’t bring herself to see you harmed.

She wanted you, but that was the selfish part of her speaking.

In the morning, you had expected her to be there, but your bedside was empty.

Ona moved through her days like a ghost. She didn’t expect it to be this hard three years ago when she first set foot in Manchester. She didn’t expect a forward to make her life this hard, or that she would fall in love with you. Every minute she spent tangled up in bed with you were minutes where nothing else outside that bedroom mattered, and it scared her.

It scared her that only you could make her feel that way, that something she had spent so hard working towards for herself, you did so easily for her.

She thinks of the nights after the Euros when she practically stayed over all day, and how you took care of her. She thinks of the cheeky winks you would send her way whenever she played against you, and the not-so-innocent brushes that you sneak in whenever she defended you. She think of your face when she shut you down, and how quickly your walls came back up.

She thinks of you the entire time she was on the Zoom call with her agent.

“You need to decide soon, Ona,” her agent had told her. “Barcelona doesn’t wait for anyone.”

It was a no-brainer, but she thinks of you all the time.

The referee blew the whistle and the 90 minutes were over. You collapsed on your knees as the Etihad erupted into cheers. Man City had reached the semifinals of the Women’s Champions League for the first time ever in the history of the women’s club. You would be playing Wolfsburg next, but you couldn’t care less about that right then. You just wanted to celebrate with your teammates.

You wished that you could celebrate with Ona too.

You sent her a text much later in the night, but she didn’t respond. Thinking it to be too late for her to come over, you went to bed, soaking in your victory.

But then, she didn’t respond the next day, then the day after that. A week later, she still hadn’t responded. Then the first leg of the semifinal came, and City drew 2-2 to Wolfsburg. You had given her space to deal with whatever she didn’t want you to know and knew double-texting made you look desperate, but you have had enough of the silence.

A vote of confidence would have been nice Sent 4:29pm

Nothing.

You weren’t going to put your life on hold for her. You wouldn’t give her that satisfaction.

The week of the return leg, you had almost forgotten all about Ona from the amount of training you were doing.

“Okay, ladies. Gather around,” said Chris, the assistant coach. “This will be our last practice session before the Champions League game. We’re gonna do some passing to start with, then a set-piece practice, and we’ll close off with a 5v5 scrimmage. That sound good?”

You were starting to feel more confident than jittery. Your movements were sure and steady, so were your finishes. Big games never deterred you, but it was the added fact of Ona not responding to your text that caused you to check your phone every time you were able to.

“No phones, Y/N,” Chris said, and raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry, Coach. Just checking news from family,” you lied. He extended his hand anyway, and you begrudgingly handed your phone over.

“I can’t have you distracted, Y/N. The match is tomorrow.”

“I know, I know. I’ve been good, though, haven’t I?” You grinned, taking a swig of water.

Practice ended later than scheduled, but you didn’t mind. You needed the extra preparation, and you were glad to have done that with your teammates. Chris finally gave you your phone back, like a naughty student, and you quickly checked your messages. Still nothing. It wasn’t like this was the biggest game of your life or anything.

Going to the news, flipping through articles upon articles on politics, your eyes landed on one about sports.

The Busby Babe: Ona Batlle Set For Barcelona Return “Manchester United and Spain star right back Ona Batlle is reportedly on the verge of completing a move back to Catalonia, rejoining Barcelona Femeni at the end of her contract with the Red Devils. […]”

The match of your life started. You were on the left wing as you always were, playing inverted so Laia would be running the flank. You scored one, but Wolfsburg got one back towards the end of the first half.

“Make those runs, ladies. If you see them coming at you, call out to your teammates. Use the third man to break free of the defense.” Gareth pointed at the board, showing hypothetical scenarios that the team could exploit for an opening.

“Hey,” Chloe sat next to you, her forehead glistening. “You alright?”

You uttered a small ‘yeah’ and closed your hand over her sweat-clad one over your knee. You couldn’t be distracted. You owed it to Chloe and everyone else on this team.

You were slamming your fist on the door, but you didn’t care. Your jaw clenched as you swayed on your feet waiting for her to open up.

“What the fuck, Y/N?!”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You stepped into her apartment.

Her face went pale. “How did you know?”

You let out a laugh. “You’re pathetic. You’re a coward for not even saying a single word.”

The ball was sent over long from deep aiming towards you. You called for Filippa for a one-two, but once you dribbled, you were tackled inside the box. You put your hand up at the referee but huffed in disbelief when she only shook her head and granted a corner.

Slapping your hand on the grass, you sprung up with a grunt. It must have looked like you were throwing a tantrum, but you couldn’t care less, you wanted to win.

“I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“So you were just not gonna say anything at all?! You owe me that much to—”

“I don’t owe you anything, Y/N.” She snapped. She had never snapped at you before, not while off the pitch. “You know what we have is just sex. That’s all we ever had and that’s all we will ever have.”

Tears formed in your eyes. You felt like a kid again, being scolded and taken for granted. “Please, don’t do this.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N, but this isn’t some fantasyland,” Ona said firmly. “I told you what I wanted, and I thought you agreed.”

There was a period of struggle over the ball soon after, mostly in midfield. You were growing increasingly frustrated as passes continued being cut off just before they reached the attacking third.

“Come on, guys! Let’s finish this!” You called out to your teammates in an attempt to hype them up before a throw-in.

Your irritation mounted, but you told yourself to quickly snap out of it. I need to stay calm, my team needs me. It proved quite difficult when Lena Oberdorf slithered up from behind to mark you. She dug an elbow into your back to keep you at bay, and when you moved, she moved. So you pushed back, much harder than you anticipated. It set her off. Good, stay off me.

Soon, you heard the ref’s hurried whistle, as Lena shoved you back. “The fuck are you pushing for?!” Your opponent seethed, getting all up in your face to challenge you.

You were feeling bold, so you smirked at her. “Come closer, see what I’ll do. Or do you just want a piece of this, huh?”

It wasn’t your best quality, you admitted it, but you liked it when you set off an opponent. You didn’t care when Lena was hurling insults at you in German as she was being led away. What mattered was that you had gotten in her head, and it would be much easier to break her defense from now on. The referee blew her whistle again, and a few teammates of yours attempted to separate you from Lena.

“Sei ruhig, Mann. Bleib’ da drüben.” Be quiet, man. Stay over there. Waving at her dismissively, you saw the way her eyes looked like they would pop out of her sockets in fury, knowing she didn’t expect you to know German. You couldn’t help but feel a sick sense of satisfaction.

“Last warning, Y/L/N.” The referee warned before continuing the match.

There would always be one player that completely drove the opposition crazy, and you would gladly be that asshole, so your teammates wouldn’t have to. You wanted to win.

“You kissed me first. I thought . . .”

“Please, don’t make this any harder than it already is,” Ona said quietly.

“I thought we had something, Ona,” you tried to steady your voice. You knew you sounded pathetic, but you never believed Ona could betray you in such a way.

She only pressed her lips thin. “We don’t. The only thing we have is our arrangement and however you feel about me on the pitch.”

Bunny scored in the 75th minute, and that would be the last goal for City in this match. The game went to extra time, and you could feel your teammates getting tired and sloppy in possession. You were tired too, but you wanted to keep fighting, anything to keep the thought of Ona out of your head.

You were so focused on the ball that you didn’t see a defender coming up beside you, her body colliding with yours in an attempt to redirect the ball. You fell to the ground with a thud, the stinging impact beginning to spread across your back. You felt the wind getting knocked out of you, your vision beginning to fade until all you could see were the lights atop the stadium, until those faded too.

The next thing you knew, you were on your side. Then the uncomfortable pain in your gut started to become more apparent, and you felt like you couldn’t breathe anymore. You gasped for air, just as a couple of your teammates knelt beside you.

“Y/N, can you hear me? Medic!” You heard a voice almost like Demi’s call out.

You didn’t know who knocked into you, you didn’t care anymore, because you had the overwhelming urge to throw up whilst still struggling to breathe.

“Can’t . . . breathe,” you wheezed out, tears starting to fill your eyes. You wanted to go home.

One of the medics shone a flashlight in your eyes. “Pupils are PEARL,” she said. “Okay, I need you to try and take deep breaths for me, alright, darling?”

You drew a shaky breath. There was a wheezing noise, in and out. In and out. The more you did, the easier it got. Your head was dizzy when you stood up, just as you heard applause ringing throughout the stadium.

Chloe appeared in front of you and offered her arm while a medic took your other as you walked toward the sideline.

“You’re alright, love,” she flashed you a warm smile and wiped away the stray tear that lingered on your cheek.

It was much too unfortunate, because you still had a lot more to give, but you were done for the night. Gareth knew it too, so he sent Hempo in to take your place.

You finally let the tears fall freely when the final whistle came.

“When do you leave?”

“In two weeks.”

A scornful laugh escaped you that you didn’t even bother to hide. “You didn’t even have the decency to tell me, not as your booty call, but as your friend.”

But you were kidding yourself. You knew Ona and you were never friends, never quite lovers either. Only two people floating around in a sexual limbo who were too scared to admit to themselves what was right in front of them. Now she was leaving, and you would never get the chance.

It didn’t matter anymore, any of it. You had a Champions League semifinal to play.

ESPN: Wolfsburg Grabs Victory in Extra Time to Reach Women’s Champions League Final “[…]”

a/n: it was so heartwarming to see the support for jenni and the players :’) it’s abt fuckin time man let’s hope this continues until rubiales and vilda’s resignation

[halfturn]

liverpool football club is just incredible isn't it... we always seem to get these fairytale moments like the miracle of istanbul, corner taken quickly, origi's winner vs everton, ali's last minute header, the 2024 carabao cup final etc etc i could go on forever.... how many times have we fought the odds and prevailed? like these moments are the stuff we'd typically only dream of yet they happened and we've lived through them. and how lucky we are to have lived through them

[killjoynest]

man idk why your so commited to this kobra is a brit thing, first off the royrals probs died in the wars and that's a huge part of bin british, NO NOT ALL BRITS ARE RORYALS BUT THATS PART OF IT also its not true, where did gerard say that kobra is british oh thats right he didnt, anyway im just tryin to help yall bcuz mcrs on break right now so thats perfect time to get dd fanom together or at least I thought it was but evertone on heres just ben buttfuckin me, also NO OFFEnse but how do you not know who Ricky bobby is, Ricky bobby talladega nights? will ferrell movie??? God damn I am not that fuckin old -ricky bobby

i am pointing at my header and icon you think welsh jet star tumblr user killjoynest gives a fuck about the royals. boo hiss i think british kobra kid is hilarious hes got the look of a guy youd see getting a tesco meal deal. im assuming the film issue here is bc 1) im not american and 2) im not white. anyways literally just pick a bit and commit to it. i did zones rpg posting way back just cuz. weve had fake zones discourse. in universe posting. haterisms. make a peompt week we used to have those sometimes

[eball24]

A brutally honest assessment of Arsenal’s squad this season:

(Pelova/Amanda - come back soon. We need a defender to score a header and Pelova’s vibe in the midfield.)

Youth

Kafaji: Who knows what’s happening there. Not sure why she hasn’t heavily featured in games like Leicester and Everton. Came at a bad time when Eidevall is not going to take risks.

Kuhl: At 21 at with the time she has been here, Arsenal has had enough time to see her. She is obviously not rated/what she was bought to be. Needs a move.

Assorted youth: with no conti cup group games, they need loans. They’re not going to play.

Forwards

Stina Blackstenius: Looks to still be finding her way back to form. Was injured all summer with that hip thing. Hard to expect her to be firing on all cylinders with the amount of playing time she gets.

Russo: Confidence in front of net looks shot. Spends more time in the position of a winger or number 10 than the striker. It’s hard to tell if that’s her style or is she is told to do so.

Foord: Our best forward this season. Looks the most like/assured of herself. Having Caldentey to rotate seems to have taken the load off of her.

Hurtig: N/A. Will be lucky if we see her again. Undoubtedly her last season.

Mead: Like Russo, confidence is gone. Whether it’s Vic being gone or the post acl hit in form has come late who knows.

Midfield

KCC: Has stepped up with Pelova out. Is unlucky not to get on more. Like all managers on the ropes, he is going with what’s worked before with Walti and Kim. It has been at The expense of KCC.

Walti: Has looked fine, but you get the sense this is her last season or two. It’s becoming apparent youth in the midfield is needed.

Kim: Same as Walti: but somewhat less assured in herself.

Maanum: Our best midfielder so far. One of the best in the team.

Caldenty: Has done good. Expectations should be low at the moment. She has to have a transition period. Going from a league with ZERO competition to fighting every week will be rough for her.

Defense

Lotte: Average with a dip from last season. Seems to be recovery from lack of consistency because of recent knocks.

Laura: Doubts about. The injuries are a bit expected post acl but come at a terrible time. Caused her to miss her shots at playing time.

Fox: Has been as good as expected with her situation. Got zero summer break and because of injuries to fullbacks has had ZERO break.

McCabe: Like fox has been overplayed. But has been solid.

Catley: Hasn’t played. Age/profile in team makes her a need to be replaced soon.

Codina: Solid. Unlucky to not play more.

Williamson: Looks out of depth and composure. Can’t get out of my head when she stops tracking Ramirez claiming the ball had gone “out.” Against Chelsea, looked like she needs benched for a bit.

Net

DVD: As good as expected. Bought for potential and not the now.

Zinsberger: As good as expected.

-Trading back and forth does not look like it will be good for either them or the defense. A consistent back five looks needed.

[armchairfootballer]

It’s been a rollercoaster 10 years since James Rodríguez wowed the world

It's been 10 years since James Rodríguez scored *that* goal. Yes, that one. You remember it well, surely.

The setting: Brazil's historic Maracanã stadium. In the 28th minute of their Round of 16 contest against Uruguay, Colombia's Abel Aguilar lobbed a header to James, who played it off his chest and volley-kicked it into the top of his opponents' net, near the corner, well beyond a diving Fernando Muslera. In a post-match summary of the goal, the poetic British commentator Peter Drury declared, "First touch, sumptuous. Second touch, magical. That's not a left foot. That is a wand." Uruguayan defender José María Giménez could do nothing more than stand with his hands on his hips, staring at the net in disbelief.

"My word, this boy's a star!" Drury proclaimed in the moment. James did not disappoint. He added another goal that game, taking his tally to five in the tournament after just four games. He'd add another in a quarterfinal loss to Brazil. Though Colombia would bow out at that point, James would go on to win the Golden Boot as the tournament's top scorer and, later, the Puskas Award for the year's most beautiful goal.

But it hasn't been a bed of roses for James in the ten years since Rio. Today, on his 33rd birthday, we take a look at the rise, fall, and revival of the Colombian midfielder.

The rising star

James had been building a strong career for himself in advance of the 2014 World Cup with productive seasons at Porto (32 goals in 107 appearances; 6 trophies) followed by a high-profile move to Monaco — a 5-year contract with a €45 million transfer fee. But in a post-World Cup interview, James said the magic words: that it would be his "life's dream" to play for Real Madrid. Ten days later, and with 4 years still left on his contract, James had signed with Carlo Ancelotti's band of superstars, a roster that included the likes of Cristiano Ronaldo, Toni Kroos, Kareem Benzema, and Sergio Ramos to name just a few. (Casillas, Pepe, Bale, Marcelo, Navas to name just a few more.)

Things started well at Madrid. Even amidst a team rich in talent, and despite being out for two months with injury, James contributed 17 goals in his first season. But later injuries and diminishing returns in successive seasons meant that James could no longer keep a regular place on the squad. New Madrid coach Zinedine Zidane also didn't seem to favor James' playing style, leading the Colombian to request a loan to Bayern Munich, where we would be reunited with Ancelotti.

Internationally, James was still making waves. At 25, he was named Colombia team captain for the 2016 Copa América, leading them to third place, losing only to eventual winners, Chile.

Fading away

Injuries plagued James for quite some time, keeping him from action for both club and country. After such a dazzling display in 2014, James sat on the bench at the 2018 World Cup and watched as his team went out to England in penalties in the Round of 16.

Despite scoring some key goals to help Bayern Munich win two league titles and a Pokal, James had netted only 15 goals in his 67 appearances with the club, and the owners opted not to pick up the option to purchase him. With no home in Munich or Madrid, he moved to Merseyside for a short stint with Everton (again, reuniting him with Ancelotti).

But failing to impress in England, and with no other clubs willing to take him on, James found himself playing for Qatar's Al Rayyan and didn't contribute much to their mediocre season. The Qatari team let him go just one game into his second season. He moved to Greece where he again lasted only one season after poor results with Olympiacos.

And James wouldn't get to return to Qatar for the 2022 World Cup as Colombia failed to qualify, finishing three points behind Ecuador for the last guaranteed spot. How did the World Cup star fade so fast for James?

Fast forward to summer 2023: James once again finds himself in South America. He now plays for São Paolo in Brazil, 13 years after he had left Argentina's Banfield, where he began built the reputation that catapulted him to European football. A name that had once dominated discussions among pundits — that had been proclaimed as "the next great thing" — had now faded into near oblivion. People weren't talking about James Rodríguez anymore.

Renaissance

After their failure to qualify for the 2022 World Cup, James expressed uncertainty as to whether he would ever again play for his country. That may have lit a fire under the team and perhaps even under him. Something started to happen...

Colombia started to pile up the wins, or at least had avoided losing. They had racked up victories against Mexico, Germany, and Brazil, among other countries. And before you knew it, they entered Copa América 2024 on a 23-game unbeaten run.

Enter James.

The attacking midfield has been a stalwart for Colombia all tournament and has been one of the keys to their success. In Colombia's five games so far, he has netted one goal and contributed six assists, surpassing Messi's tournament assist record. He's been man of the match for four of Colombia's five games of the tournament so far.

And when Colombia face off against Messi's Argentina in Sunday's final, James will need to play a pivotal role. Will his remarkable revival culminate in extending Colombia's historic unbeaten run and winning their first Copa América since 2001?

In addition to reinvigorating this Colombia team and resurrecting his career, James may also be accomplishing something even more outlandish — he may have some neutrals paying closer attention to him and Colombia than to Messi and Argentina. Colombia has arguably been the Copa's best team. Argentina has yet to come up against substantial competition and have had two victories over Canada.

Meanwhile, Colombia have had already had to battle both Brazil and Uruguay, defeating the latter while down a player for an entire half. The talented superstars of La Albiceleste, the world's #1 ranked team for the last 18 months now, can always dazzle and can outplay any team on their best day. But we've yet to see their best at this tournament, and it's feasible Colombia's passionate, fiery play could be a game-changer.

The bookies may have already made their prediction, but Sunday's eventual outcome is anything but clear. What is clear is that James Rodríguez will have a key role to play in whatever the result.

He's hoping it's a role for the better.

[unitedbydevils]

Match Review: Manchester United U19s 6-0 FK Žalgiris Vilnius U19s (11-2 agg.)

Mission accomplished, and the mighty reds go marching on in Europe.

Frustratingly, United's game at Leigh Sports Village couldn't be broadcast live on MUTV due to the UEFA Champions League ties. Why? Fuck knows. Stupid rule.

It was more frustrating for those of us not there because Ethan Williams began what would be another rout of Žalgiris after just 8 minutes, with the forward finishing what had been a magic run from Ashton Missin through most of the pitch before laying it off.

Captain Tyler Fredricson then scored nine minutes later scoring with a header from a corner, though Žalgiris keeper Joris Aliukonis will feel frustrated to so easily miss the interception.

United would come close with a Jayce Fitzgerald free kick mid-half, but it was in the 37th minute that Ethan Wheatley made it 3-0 to United; a hard-and-low driven cross from Harry Amass finding Wheatley at the near post for him to stab home up into the roof of the net.

Ashton Missin finally got a goal to support his claim for Player of the Match in the 57th minute, and with the result seemingly secure, Jayce Fitzgerald made way for newcomer Sékou Koné to get some minutes in the tank.

A little later both Wheatley and Amass made way for Biancheri and Mantato, and then another double sub of Munro and Scanlon for Jackson and Williams.

The Welsh wonderboy Gabi Biancheri bagged his 13th goal of the season (in 11 games) in the 76th minute, slotting home into the far right corner, before the game was rounded out in the final minute of play by Gibraltan winger James Scanlon, and assisted by the substitute Bendito Mantato.

Note: Some outlets are crediting Biancheri with the 6th goal but all the match reports and attending fans say Scanlon sooooooo...

United now face AZ Alkmaar in the third round of the UEFA Youth League, with the Dutch side having won 4-1 (8-2 agg.) over Stromsgodset of Norway.

The team splits back to its usual age brackets shortly; the U18s are home to Everton at 11am on Saturday, and the U21s play Huddersfield away next Tuesday evening.

[kloppool]

essay - the kids (and 30 year olds) are alright; how the carabao cup final embodies klopp's vision

There are certain games that serve as an encapsulation of a manager’s vision and influence and last Sunday’s Carabao Cup Final was certainly one of them. While the circumstances of the match were far, far, from perfect, it resulted in a perfect microcosm of Klopp’s vision and what legacy he leaves. Needless to say, the main thing on people’s minds was Liverpool’s massive list of injuries. Alisson, Alexander-Arnold, Szoboszlai, Jones, Nunez, Salah, Jota. Everytime you thought the list was over, there was another name. And so, Klopp and Liverpool had to adapt.

While the “Klopp’s Kids” narrative is certainly true and worthy of all the praise in the world, so are those opposite the youngsters. A group of children were thrown into the deep end that is the Carabao Cup Final, the names of which were unknown to people outside of Liverpool circles. Amongst the youngsters, Jarell Quansah has the most appearances at a whopping 8. Bobby Clark has 5, James McConnell has 3 and Jayden Danns was playing in his second ever game. When you throw children in the deep end, you need people to guide them. That came in the form of the two perfect encapsulations of Klopp’s tenure and transfers: Virgil van Dijk and Waturu Endo.

Under Klopp, Liverpool have mainly made 2 types of transfer deals. The first is splashing big money on proven players that generally operate within the spine of the team. The second is buying under the radar talent for cheap. Virgil van Dijk embodies the first better then anyway else, aside from possibly Alisson. Bought for 75 million, he arrived in the winter of 2018, as Liverpool waved farewell to Barca-bound Phil Coutinho. He was desperately needed, as Liverpool was a goal-scoring machine, but leakey defensively. A world record fee for a defender (at the time), he made his debut in the FA Cup against Everton and scored the winner (obviously a header) late on. The rest is history. Van Dijk has proved to be worth more then every single cent paid for him, and not just because of his defensive abilities. Even before he became captain, he was clearly a leader on the team and had good relationships with everyone, especially his defensive mates. That kind of leadership is what makes him truly invaluable.

Endo, despite having just arrived, has already been a success and has the makings of a legend. The Japan captain was signed in the aftermath of failed attempts to get Brighton’s Moises Caicedo and Southampton’s Romeo Lavia. In the end, both went to Chelsea for absurd sums, and Liverpool were left without a DM. With the Premier League season alreacy underway, Liverpool bought Waturu Endo from Stuttgart for 16 million. The move was met with skeptcism. It’s probably fair to say most Liverpool fans aren’t well versed with Stuttgart and people were frustrated after the failure to sign Caicedo and Lavia. Endo was not as flashy as they were and he was much older, sitting at 30. In his arrival video, Jurgen Klopp greets him by telling him “...we really need you. We need you and your heart and your legs and your football ability and your football brain.” It’s safe to say, Endo has delivered on everything asked of him, plus some extra. A lot of extra. In a season where Liverpool’s incoming midfield signings included Brighton star and World Cup winner Alexis Mac Allister, and Hungary captain and highly rated Red Bull graduate Dominik Szoboszlai, Endo’s performance is all the more impressive. And he’s doing it at a fraction of what was paid for Mac Allister and Szoboszlai, who have both justified their own transfer fees. 

Back to the original point, van Dijk and Endo were tasked with providing defensive stability, to allow the kids to have more freedom. Indeed, both gave Man of the Match performances, even well into extra time. Their grit and steadfastness allowed the younger players to go forward without fear. This confidence caught Chelsea off-guard, and rightly so. You may have seen Chelsea fans (and certain other fanbases) point out that Chelsea’s squad had a younger average age by the end of the match than Liverpool. This is being used in an attempt to dismiss the impact of Liverpool’s youngsters. This is also a stupid argument. Firstly, Liverpool’s average age was raised by the aforementioned Virgil van Dijk and Waturu Endo, along with Andy Robertson. Secondly, this ignores the true meaning behind the praise of Klop’s Kids. They aren’t praised solely for being young; rather, they’re academy graduates making their mark in a team full of stars. While there are also debates and arguments about how truly homegrown these kids are, the undeniable truth is that Liverpool has become one of the best clubs to be a young player in. 

It’s hard to pick one, singular best thing that Klopp will leave behind, but after Sunday’s final, I’m tempted to declare that it’s his impact on Liverpool’s academy. It all started with Trent Alexander-Arnold and his eventual promotion to the first team. Alexander-Arnold has played nearly his entire senior career at Liverpool under Klopp, and it shows. The marriage of his natural footballing talent, namely his passing and vision with Klopp’s tactics and mentality has made Alexander-Arnold a star. And he’s been like this for a while. Despite losing the 2018 Champions League Final, he kept Ronaldo in his pocket that whole night, at age 19. Over the next few seasons, he continued to shine brighter. However, the 2022-2023 season saw many difficulties for him, compounded by Liverpool being nothing short of miserable. 

But there are almost no signs of his struggles last season. In fact, Trent has stood out this season, both as a Liverpool and England player. His new role as a hybrid rightback/midfielder has paid off. He rescued a point against Manchester City in November and proceeded to score the winner against Fulham not long after.

Trent’s rise was likely a message to Liverpool academy kids that “Yes, you can do it. There is a way. It’s hard, but it’s possible.” For many years, Liverpool’s academy was mocked and derided. There were occasional sparks of talent, but nothing consistent. Now, however, everytime Liverpool play a new 17 year old appears on the bench. When he comes on, people think, “OK, they’re injured and desperate. He’ll be overwhelmed.” And then the kid precedes to score a goal or make a game-saving tackle. 

But the best part of it all is how these kids are treated. Whether they score a brace or misplace a pass, the older players offer nothing but encouragement and love. When Jarell Quansah started against Bournemouth in the Carabao Cup, Virgil van Dijk traveled with them to support the team, despite the terrible weather. He wasn’t even in the squad. Guidance, comfort, praise, encouragement, are constant. And it comes from some of the best in the world at their positions. Players, such as Alisson, van Dijk and Salah, who will go down as legends, not just for Liverpool, but as all-timers in their respective positions. It comes from the likes of Curtis Jones and Trent Alexander-Arnold, Liverpool boys who understand the academy kids, perhaps better then anyone. It comes from World Cup winner, Alexis Mac Allister and chaos king Darwin Nunez.

Klopp’s influence will live in every one of the players he has coached, especially the ones who are young. While some things will change when the new manager arrives, the Klopp mentality has become synonymous with Liverpool and will live on in the young players who will, one day, become stars,

[tartt9]

@stormlit asked //

how's the head? [ from here ! ]

"Never had any complaints in m'life," Jamie jokes, still holding the ice pack to his forehead. He'd taken a particularly rough header, his forehead hitting not just the ball, but the top of the Everton centre back's head, as well. But the ball went into the net, didn't it? Jamie's almost as much of an ace at a set piece as he is with a penalty opportunity. Despite Jamie saying he could go on - and he fully believed that he could - Ted still subbed him out, put Declan in. Jamie let Georgie look at him - because wasn't that ironic, always having a woman named Georgie being the first to tend to his bumps and bruises - but he'd insisted that he was fine then, and he's fine now. "Seriously, though - it's fine. 'M fine. I've taken worse headers in m'life." He lowers the ice pack from his forehead, clasping it in his hands between his spread legs. "Am I good t'go home, then? Match ended, I can hear the lads in the dressing room right now. Or d'you need t'do some, like... doctor shit still?"

[vertonghen]

GUYS THIS IS THE EVERTON GAME ALL OVER AGAIN. SONNY BRACE ONE FROM A GK ERROR BISSOUMA GOAL COME ON CUTI HEADER

[wosofutbolfan]

Muwfc people.

We know that every team in Merseyside is apparently 6ft4.

Saw it against Everton. Haven't checked but fairly sure we lost 80% of the headers.

Think Marc will continue to insist on long balls?

[underwater-i-will-go]

i will NEVER love anything more than the fact that all this began as a pure pisstake but since we genuinely don't have strikers that can score goals (dcl just can't do it, beto can't do it, danjuma is injured, and chermiti just ... isn't getting played) and everyone (including some of the players themselves who have said that he's the best finisher at training) is convinced that he's simply natural finisher, this has become a serious option to many fans. the desperation is insane.

surely a lot are still taking the piss since he's a defender and all but he hasn't seen a minute yet this year and ... with how badly things are going for them at the moment. what could go wrong? i like to say "as long as he's far away from the opposition box (own goals, pulling pens etc) we should give this a shot unironically" and the majority of fans will agree despite him being one of the most hated players over at everton, or likely the most hated one altogether. for every time he's went for goal in an everton shirt, he's never missed. laugh as much as you want but that's a statistical fact. so make of that what you will i suppose.

yesterday they could've won, led for once thanks to a great finish from branthwaite (he's ... a defender) and if they actually had a striker that scores goals and not midfield maniac harrison who SHOULD HAVE SCORED LATE ON but missed, one point could FINALLY had been three. defensively everton might be one of the clubs of the league but there was nothing anyone could've done about that header from dunk. still one point above relegation. could've been three. like so many games in recent times.

but anyway, dyche will likely not play keane again for the rest of the season, (which i fully understand and support since the godfrey/(or coleman)/tarkowski/branthwaite/mykolenko backline works too well) but if i was him i'd try to move him into midfield like he did with young, garner and young both haven't really been it recently. just to see what happens.

[bluestars-timeforthegodstoshake]

Big Dunc Soaring Header! Arsenal (A) January 1997 #everton ...

[goaltonictales]

⚽ “Calvert‑Lewin Free Agent Surge: Everton Star Ends Toffees Tale!”

Everton have confirmed that striker Dominic Calvert‑Lewin will leave the club, becoming a free agent this summer . The 27‑year‑old’s departure closes a chapter marked by towering headers and injury setbacks. Emotion saturates the moment: an Everton boy rising through the ranks and now setting sights on a fresh stage. Fans lament his fierce passion and aerial prowess, while the striker himself…

[asmawand-8]

The absence of Maresca on the sidelines for Chelsea meant Willy Caballero had to step in as his replacement, observing the match from the technical area.

---

First Half

Deploying Caicedo as a RB in a 4-2-3-1 formation felt like a 'trick.' On the pitch, Chelsea's back four morphed into three, as Caicedo consistently supported Lavia in midfield as an inverted wing-back. This pattern persisted from the opening minutes of the match.

By the 10th minute, Everton’s pressing proved quite effective. Specifically, the visitors’ pressing was more compact in midfield, involving six players. The tight marking made it difficult for Chelsea to build up play smoothly.

The hosts responded to the pressing, partly by attempting direct passes into Everton’s defensive core. Until the 11th minute, two direct passes successfully reached Neto & Jackson, but Everton’s backline remained alert in intercepting them.

By the 14th minute, despite constant disruption from Everton’s pressing, Chelsea still dominated possession with 70% compared to the visitors’ 30%. In the same minute, the hosts registered their first on-target attempt, but Madueke’s right-footed strike was still parried by Pickford.

Up to the 26th minute, apart from a few attacking attempts, Chelsea struggled to create many clear chances against Everton’s goal.

Setting aside the visitors’ midfield pressing, Lavia’s sluggish ball distribution and frequent misplaced passes in the final third were key reasons for the hosts’ lack of opportunities.

However, luckily, in the 27th minute, in a lightning-fast sequence, Chelsea broke the deadlock. Chalobah’s interception and Enzo’s quick pass were clinically finished by Jackson. 1-0.

By the 43rd minute, the stats reflected Chelsea’s dominance—five attempts on goal, three of which were on target. In contrast, Everton had zero attempts and zero on target.

Before the first half ended, the hosts had one more on-target chance via Madueke’s header, while Everton had two opportunities in front of Sanchez’s goal. However, no further changes were made to the scoreline by halftime.

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Second Half

Chelsea immediately pressed Everton’s defense early in the second half. One such attempt came from Madueke’s on-target strike at the near post, which Pickford managed to save.

A minute later, the visitors had a counterattack opportunity but failed to capitalize—neither on target nor off target.

In the following minutes, the hosts’ attacks carried more 'bite' compared to the first half. Faster ball circulation, more possession in Everton’s defensive third, and increased wing activity defined Chelsea’s offensive approach.

From the visitors, their best moment finally came in the 63rd minute. Harrison’s pass was converted into a powerful low drive by Beto, but Sanchez displayed sharp reflexes to deny the shot.

Everton’s first on-target attempt.

Additionally, the introductions of Alcaraz, McNeil, Young, and Chermiti were Moyes’ attempts to shift momentum for Everton on the pitch. Among these substitutions, statistically, positive impacts began to show.

Between the 62nd and 72nd minutes, Everton seized 66% possession, leaving only 34% for the hosts. Chelsea, however, responded with multiple threats on goal via on-target attempts from Madueke and Cucurella in the 74th and 75th minutes.

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Final Result

In the remaining 15 minutes, Chelsea thought they had a second goal through Jackson in the 84th minute, but the Senegalese striker was caught offside. The goal was disallowed.

Meanwhile, Everton only managed one more on-target chance via McNeil’s left-footed poke, but Sanchez’s miraculous reflexes kept it out.

Until the final whistle, no further goals were scored. Chelsea secured all three points with a narrow 1-0 victory.

[unitedbydevils]

Match Review: Manchester United 1-0 Luton

The Iceman cometh: Victor Lindelöf struck in the 59th minute to give United the three points at home to Premier League strugglers Luton at Old Trafford, in yet another game that United should have scored several more goals...

United started with Garnacho on the left wing and Rashford out right following a woeful showing in the previous game from Antony, and it almost paid off early on with a deflected cross from the right looping into Højlund's path, only to go directly at the keeper for a crucial save.

Luton had their chances too, with a poor Lindelof headed clearance leading to a cross straight back in at Morris - who headed on goal unchallenged by the Swede mere seconds later. An excellent save from Onana kept the visitors at bay, but his confidence won't be helped by silly mistakes like that from his defence.

A flank switch mid half saw Garnacho presented with a beautiful chance 1 on 1 with the keeper thanks to Rasmus Højlund, only for the Argentinian to cut onto his right and lose the advantage. Had he stayed on his left, rounded the keeper out wide, there was no defender to close him or stop an easy finish to give United the lead. A mistake, and an experience to learn from, but a frustration for United at a time where goals are in desperately short supply.

The second half was more of the same: Højlund glanced a header wide from a Bruno Fernandes free kick, United did get their goal thanks to Victor Lindelöf and a deflection off Scott McTominay to lay him off, and Rashford hit a late chance directly at keeper ))))))) that really should have gone either side of the stopper. Still, a win's a win, and a clean sheet is also incredibly valuable against a stubborn, strong team containing ex-United prospects such as Tahith Chong (pictured above) and Teden Mengi.

United's game notably improved with the introduction of Mason Mount and Scott McTominay dropping deeper. The Scot might be valued for his goal contributions this season but his traits suit being a bruising ball-winner type. He's not a stereotypical "6" but neither is he a CAM. He's too poor with his passing and positioning to suit such a role, but with Casemiro's poor form there's a huge chance for a Mount/McTominay partnership to blossom. Mount is a box-to-box creator, McTominay is a strong duellist. Both have high stamina and an eye for goal, as does Bruno Fernandes ahead of them, making this a midfield that could do good work.

As a personal aside I prefer the metronomic passing of Sofian Amrabat over McTominay, but there are enough games for both to play - even together - and to control the middle of the pitch.

Remarkably, United's win lifts them into 6th Place in the Premier League also means that despite the seemingly disjointed and misfiring form, the Red Devils are currently THE form side in the EPL. This will provide some solace to Erik Ten Hag who is very slowly getting injured players back for selection, but will perplex fans given the sub-par showings we've seen so far this season.

There's also the Højlund conundrum. The Dane is joint top scorer in the Champions League, but yet to find a goal for United in the Premier League - despite his consistently good showings up front. A goal will come, and hopefully be the first of many, but again the waiting game is tough for the fans keen to see United flex their muscles.

Yet another international break is upon us, meaning United's next game is away to Everton on Sunday November 26; a potentially sticky fixture given Everton seem to be finding their feet again under Sean Dyche, but also a good time to have a break and disrupt that rhythm.