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“Breakers!” they shout, bumping my fist.

We walk out of the tunnel and onto the field. The crowd roars, and I smile. I missed this more than I let myself admit after my injury.

My girls line up. They’re focused. They know what they have to do.

I watch from the sidelines as the Rovers come out. They look tense, angry even. I see their coach yelling at them. He’s already losing his cool, and the match hasn’t even started.

The referee calls the captains for the coin toss, and they meet at midfield and shake hands. Lexa wins it.

We kick off, and we’re underway.

The first minutes are slow, both teams feeling each other out. But it doesn’t take long for the Rovers to show their true colors. They start pushing, shoving, and tripping our players. They’re trying to make us react.

But we don’t.

“Spread out!” I call out. “Keep the ball moving!”

My girls obey, and we start dominating the possession. We play our game, passing the ball around, finding the spaces, creating chances. The Rovers can’t keep up, and they get more and more frustrated.

“Come on, stay in it,” their coach shouts. “Don’t let them play!”

But it’s too late. We have the ball and we’re not giving it up.

“Rebecca’s open!” I yell. “Look for Rebecca!”

Rosario hears me, and she crosses the ball to the right wing. Rebecca runs, gets control with her chest. She dribbles past a defender, cuts inside, and shoots, low and hard.

The goalkeeper dives, but she can’t reach it. The ball hits the net. The stadium explodes.

“Yes!” I shout, pumping my fist. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

Rebecca runs to the corner flag to celebrate with her teammates. They hug, high-five, and smile. They’re happy, but not cocky. They know it’s only one goal and there’s still a lot of time left.

The Rovers restart and try to hit us on the counter, but we defend well, and don’t give them any easy chances.

“Bernie, behind you!” I call out, but it’s too late. Sasha’s already slipped past her.

“Mierda,” I mutter, as Millie faces the Rovers’ captain. She shoots, and Millie blocks it. But the rebound falls to Sasha, who crosses it to a forward. A header sends the ball into the net. It’s now 1–1.

“Joder,” I curse, but then I force myself to shake it off. “It’s okay, girls. Don’t let them get to you.”

But I can see the effect in their loss of focus.

“Push forward, Valentina,” I tell her, and she nods. She sprints to the center of the field, intercepts the pass, sends it to Lexa.

“Go, Lexa!” I encourage her. “Go, go, go!”

She runs, dodges a tackle, and looks to pass. Daisy is marked. Rebecca’s too far. But Valentina is open, making a run, and Lexa passes it to her.

Valentina receives the ball. She takes a long shot, accurate and full of power. The goalkeeper can’t stop it from hitting the back of the net.

I cheer, and so does the crowd. We’re in the lead again. We have the momentum.

The tension continues to rise. The Rovers get more desperate and more violent. They foul us, they insult us, they even try to injure us. They get a yellow card, then another. But they don’t stop.

I see Lexa get pushed by Sasha, who’s been on her case since the start. They exchange words, and Sasha shoves her again.

I’m about to intervene, but Valentina’s there first, whispering into Lexa’s ear, and Lexa just laughs and walks away. She doesn’t give Sasha the satisfaction of a reaction.