“Let’s all remember what we’re about to do.”
Coach Em didn’t raise her voice; the game day locker room was already tuned into her. The air was thick with anticipation as I glanced around at the jerseys ready on the benches. The navy and white, pristine and proud, ready to represent us.
One of our forwards, Beth, stood with their hands on their hips, breathing slowly, calibrating. The usual noise was missing, but the nerves were tight around us. Every single person in here was aware of the clock ticking, even if they didn’t look at it.
“We’re about to make history,” she said. “This is the first game Valkyries will play in the league.” Coach Em’s gaze swept the locker room, lingering on each of us. “No one expects perfection, but they will remember how you show up. For each other. For this team. For every girl who’s watching and thinking maybe.”
And that was the whole point. I didn’t want to let anyone down. Myself, my team, or any of the girls watching, wondering if they could be in my shoes one day. The weight of expectationwas heavy, but I bore it on my shoulders, because I wanted to make sure that even one person knew anything was possible.
This was what I trained for. What I chose, every day.
There was a moment of absolute silence as we all absorbed the enormity of what we were about to do. My nerves were primed and ready to pounce on the nearest prey. I was ready for this.
Coach gave us a fifteen-minute warning and left us to our pre-game rituals.
I leaned forward and retied my boots, tugging each lace until everything felt locked in.
“That shit smells so bad,” Delany gagged, eyeing Lola’s hands.
Lola didn’t look up from her pre-game beef jerky. “I have to eat it,” she mumbled through a mouthful.
“Do you, though?” Delany said. “Because I’m pretty sure it’s bad for you.”
“I could hate it, but I’d still have to eat it,” Lola said.
All of us understood that sentiment.
Back when we were a pay-per-play club, every one of us had something we refused to give up. Evie wore the same bright pink undershirt. Delany wouldn’t pull on her game jersey until the very last second. Superstition was part of the job, stitched into us alongside tape and bruises.
But today came with something extra.
“Did you see there’s only, like, five hundred seats left?”
My head snapped around.
Five hundred left. In a stadium that held fifteen thousand. Those stakes felt high in the best way. We knew the media had amped up for this, but this was more than we could ever have hoped for.
I drew in a breath, then another, my chest working harder. I set my hands on my thighs and bowed my head for a second, letting the familiar noise of the room settle around me.
“Cap, you good?” one of the rookies called.
I lifted my head and saw it was Cassie talking. “Yeah,” I said, forcing the air back into an even rhythm. “That’s a fucking lot of people.”
A ripple of laughter moved through the room.
“Guess we’d better give them a show,” Delany said.
“About time,” Lola shot back. “I didn’t shave my legs for nothing.”
I shook my head, smiling, and reached for my phone when it buzzed against the bench.
Natalie
Saw the numbers. You’re about to blow the roof off that place. So proud of you. Go get it. Love you, Teddy xx
Something warm settled in my chest. I typed back a quickLove youand held my phone for a second longer, wondering if I’d get another text message.
I wasn’t doing this for my dad, but it wouldn’t hurt to have some kind of… I don’t know. He was on deployment, I reminded myself; he’s always quieter when he’s away.
