Goal! The Manchester United City Captains

beat. It was the sound of thousands waiting for kickoff, that nervous excitement only a stadium could bring. Tonight, though, it felt heav

fresh grass and damp soil. Her fingers which had become strong from years of controlling the ball twitched slightly. At twenty-three, she was th

d and the team's fearless goalkeeper. Her usual smil

g from the pitch into the tunnel. Her stomach knotted with nerves and adrenalin

media. Lower budgets. And even with their growing success, they were still fighting. Every sprint, every goal was part of tha

crowd. They don't really see us yet. Just 'the women's te

stood it too, though she handled it with jokes an

blew. "T

ed her lungs. This was her place. The field. The battle. S

nt kind of pressure. The men's team had finished training, but as captain, Le

g intern said, holding up a phone. "Thoughts

or the fans," he said smoothly. "Pre-season has been tough, but we're sharp. Eyes on the league title and mayb

and the intern p

eam and Captain of the National team also, England international. He had it all: fam

ied every detail of the game, and carried huge expectations. His family wa

oo loud. He walked to the window, staring out at the city lights. Between matches and media, he sometimes

ks Off !, Can They Pull an Upset?" He clicked it. He knew Maya Davies by name; the "Midfield Maestro." He'd seen

posing, more small talk. The women's team would be there too, of course. He knew they didn't

final whistle blew. The

y'd done it. She looked around at the supporters in the stands, they were a bit m

apped an arm around her. "Y

eplied, a tired smile

ughter, hugs. The win felt good. Maya sat, letting the

rced fun. At least

the men. Even after tonight's victory, tomorrow's headlines would be about Leo Sterling

, nothing serious now but the fear of it never left. Not of pain,

answer reporters' questions. Soon, she'd have to face Leo Sterling. An

ams. The gala was just the beginning. Club owner Sir Alistair Finch called it a

ked. But Isabella Knight, the club's PR head, was firm. "You

tterly. Not the leader. N

st. Her apartment was simple but calm. No

book. She broke down the match, noting errors, s

avid Hayes, in a fancy restaurant downtown. David, sh

Sir Alistair wants both teams front and center.

slowly. "Photos wit

s. She's getting heat lately. Goo

nse, that one. Hardly smil

ense, he thought. Yeah.

gym focused, silent, unstoppable

hat was goi