Tales of the Tournaments

August 2, 2023

Waikato Stadium, Hamilton, New Zealand

Sweden vs. Argentina

"Congratulations, lillan . You're in the starting eleven."

Sofia scrambled to her feet, looking wide-eyed at Caroline Seger. "I am? Really?"

"Really, really, lillan . Why don't you go over to Maddie and Becka and get ready." 

Practically radiating happiness, Sofia threw her arms around Caroline and hugged her tight. "Oh, thank you Caro, really thank you!"

Caroline chuckled. "Just don't make me regret it, lillan . Let's go." She gave Sofia a nudge, and Sofia ran to join her teammates, passing Stina and Frido on the bench.

Eva Sofia Jakobsson was blissfully happy - she'd finally got the start she'd been begging for. Sofia only hoped she could live up to Caro's trust.

Even being whistled down for a foul less than two minutes into the match couldn't dampen her mood. She corrected her position and played on, trying to focus on the good things. Breathe, Sofia, you can do this. You've got this.

Above them, the commentators were watching, noting that Caroline Seger was the first Swede to be involved in five Women's World Cups, and Sofia grinned to herself. They probably didn't mean to call Caro old, she thought, as the ball rocketed back and forth between the Argentines and the Swedes. Sofia was close, closer - 

"Ow! Fuck!"

Aldana Cometti barrelled into Sofia, sending her down on her back.

Sofia scrambled to her feet as the foul was whistled for - no card, but Sweden got an attempt on goal, which was deflected before it even got near. Sofia cursed under her breath, grimacing, and tried to regain her focus. Anna Sandberg had just cut off one of the Argentinians, and Sofia shook her head - another foul. 

Then Rebecka Blomqvist checked another, and Sofia began to worry for her teammates. True, Swedes played rough, but this was getting rough early.

Especially for Anna, the team youngest, and Becka, who wasn't too much older. They were practically still children, in Sofia's view.

"Seger, age 38, sub in the first two games, getting the start tonight--"

"Yes, a very different role for Caroline Seger," the announcers said, and Sofia rolled her eyes. Maybe they were aware they were calling Caro old. They should watch it, she didn't appreciate that kind of thing and what if she reported them to the Classification Centre?

In the eighteenth minute, Argentina's Braun yanked down Rebecka Blomqvist. Sophia Braun was protesting her innocence, but it didn't fly with the referee, given the number of witnesses. She wasn't carded, which Sofia thought was lucky for the Argentinian, but the Swedes got a free kick. Schough set up to take it, fiddling a little with her black sweatband as she waited for the opposing players to set up their screen. When the time came for her to take the kick, she did, and it sailed through the other team's screen beautifully - straight into the waiting hands of Vanina Correa, the Argentinian goalkeeper.

Olivia Scough cursed under her breath. No goal - still a scoreless draw. She collided with Nunez on her way back in, the other girl going down hard, and backed up, trying to offer her a hand up.

Romina Nunez waved her off, curled up in pain, and Olivia shrugged, moving away - until the ref's whistle stopped her cold.

Yellow card, Oliva Scough. Sweden's first yellow of the tournament, and it was handed to the thirty-two year old midfielder, who thought ruefully that she was past the age where accidents like this would be excused lightly. Yes, it had been an accident, yes, she'd offered help and been refused, but she rather thought Seger might not see it that way.

The replay flashed across the screen, and everyone could hear it. "There's the high studs coming in on Nunez."

Sofia's gaze found Olivia's, and Sofia shuddered. Olivia was lucky it had been an obvious accident - if she'd kicked Nunez down intentionally, studs up, she would have been red carded.

Fortunately, she'd offered her hand, which - combined with her expression of shock - showed the ref it had been an accident, albeit a painful one.

So she was walking away with just a yellow card. Thankfully.

Hanna Bennison knocked into Argentina's Camila Gomez Ares, bringing her down briefly - foul, but thankfully no yellow card, though the twenty-year-old midfielder wondered whether Caro would agree. Her stomach fluttered with nerves at the thought.

Argentina got a chance at the ball due to this, missed it, and it got sent back to the Swedes.

Madelen Janogy kicked the ball to Sofia, who crossed it to Olivia Schough. Olivia tried to make up for her earlier mistake with a goal, but her header went wide. Still, they were making progress, even if neither side had scored yet.There was still at least an hour to go.

Janogy elbowed one of the Argentine players in the face as she ran past, sending the player - Bonsegundo - to the ground. It was obviously an accident, but it could have been avoided if she'd kept her elbows to herself, Sofia thought. And Madelen Janogy was twenty-seven - older than Stina, for fuck's sake. She was old enough to know better. No doubt Caro wouldn't be happy. 

The two teams continued trading the ball back and forth, each side doing their best to keep possession as much as possible. Rebecka Blomqvist was fouled for running into Aldana Cometti, and Sofia was just glad she didn't get carded for it.

Their Captain was going to have a lot to do by the time the match was over, Sofia reflected. Hopefully she'd manage to stay well out of it.

The whistle rang out to stop play, and Sofia halted, looking around.

Bonsegundo was on the ground, again. This time, though, she wasn't getting up. Sofia looked around, and the playback was shown - Hanna Bennison was the last one to have contact with the other player, though she'd barely touched her. Sofia blinked in surprise; the way Bonsegundo had hit the ground was completely at odds with the level of contact, and she threw Hanna a worried look.

Please don't be red carded please don't be red carded, she chanted silently. 

There was no red card, as it turned out - no card at all, since it appeared contact was incidental and Bonsegundo had practically tripped over her own feet. Still, she was injured enough to be carried off the field, and Sofia's stomach twisted with worry.

She always hated to see fellow players injured to that degree, even if they were opponents.

It wasn't long after that when both Nunez and Larroquette went down - because of Caroline Seger.

Sofia wasn't entirely sure how or why her Captain had collided with them both, but it appeared she'd at least struck Larroquette "on the backside" as the announcer put it, which made Sofia suppress the urge to grin at the remark. The situation wasn't really funny, she knew, but wording. Anyway, Nunez was right back on her feet, thankfully, and Larroquette got there after another minute or so, though she moved off to the side to be examined while Argentina played on, temporarily a woman down. The end of the first half was near, and four minutes' stoppage time were declared.

Oh. Oh no. Caro's going to be in so much trouble, Sofia thought. But the idea of Caro in trouble was so absolutely foreign that she didn't know what to think.

Camila Gomez Ares' next actions were so blatantly misconduct that Sofia only just stopped herself from getting involved - Camila pulled Madelene Janogy down by her shirt, earning a yellow card. The Swede hadn't done anything more than try to get past Gomez Ares, and not roughly either, so being yanked back by her jersey was completely uncalled for. 

A penalty kick was awarded to Sweden in answer to the yellow card, and both Magda and Olivia seemed prepared to take it. Magda shot it toward the wall of Argentinians and it bounced off, heading for Anna Sandberg, who made another attempt. The ball was just blocked again, however, and the halftime whistle blew on a still scoreless match.

Sofia exhaled slowly, swallowing nervously.

Caro's in trouble, she thought. And while it wasn't just Caro, the fact that the Skipper was in for it - in for what? from who? spun in Sofia's mind, refusing to settle.

The Swedes filtered down the tunnel, into the locker room. A soft gasp from their keeper alerted Sofia that they weren't the first ones in.

Jenna crossed the dressing room and threw herself into her girlfriend's arms, hugging Pernilla Johansson tightly. She returned the hug readily, kissing the top of Jenna's head.

"Are you alright, darling?" Pernilla asked softly, and Jenna nodded. 

"But...you're not here for me, are you."

Pernilla shook her head, expression hardening as she stepped back and swept the Swedes with her stern gaze.

Sofia's stomach plummeted. "Ma'am--"

"You will speak when you are spoken to, Eva Sofia," Pernilla said quietly. "But I'm not here for you - at least, not yet."

"Then who are you here for? Ma'am," Anna Sandberg checked herself quickly.

Pernilla raised her eyebrows. "That's Miss Pernilla to you, young lady. You, for a start. Bennison. Blomqvist." She singled out the three team youngests, snapping her fingers. "Here." She pointed to a spot in front of her, and they moved as one, lining up to face her obediently. "I'll have you three to start with."

Anna sucked her lower lip nervously as Pernilla brought out a short, narrow leather strap, not much longer than a ruler.

"Hands, Sandberg."

Anna's eyes widened. "Um...Miss Pernilla?"

"Hands, Anna," Jenna prompted, the keeper coming to stand behind Anna as Miss Pernilla faced the trio. "Palms up. I'll hold them steady for you, don't worry."

Swallowing, Anna obeyed the order when Jenna had explained it, letting the keeper cup her wrists to keep her hands still.

"Two for the foul and two for speaking out of turn," Miss Pernilla explained. Anna trembled, but Jenna was holding her, and so Anna gave a reluctant nod, trusting the keeper to hold her still.

The strap lashed down, twice on each of Anna's palms, leaving pink stripes in their wake. Anna yelped and would have pulled away if Jenna wasn't holding her, but Pernilla made the strokes quick, and didn't lay them on full strength.

It was still more than hard enough for Anna, tears sparkling on her lashes. She whimpered, accepting the comfort when Jenna pulled her close.

"S-sorry, sorry ma'am, Miss Pernilla!"

"Alright," Miss Pernilla soothed, gentling her tone, "that's you done, brave girl." 

Sniffling, Anna whispered "thank you, Miss Pernilla" and clasped her hands together when Jenna let her go, rubbing her stinging palms against each other.

"Bennison."

Hanna stepped forward and presented her hands obediently, Jenna holding her as she had Anna.

"Six for the body check," Miss Pernilla warned her. "And I am not done with you yet, young lady."

Gulping, Hanna nodded. She was grateful for Jenna's firm grip - firm, but not cruel - on her wrists as three strokes striped each of her upturned palms. The strapping was mercifully quick, but the ominous I am not done with you yet made Hanna shudder.

This had been for the body check - there was still the other Argentinian she'd taken down later.

"I'm sorry ma'am."

"You will be," Miss Pernilla said ominously. "Blomqvist."

Becka turned to look at Pernilla, still feeling a bit wobbly from being knocked into herself. "S-sorry...."

Pernilla gave Becka a searching look. "Ordinarily I would say four, but given how you look right now, little girl, I'll make it two this time."

Jenna held Becka against her chest, holding her palms up for Pernilla, who striped each palm once with the strap. The blows weren't that hard, and then Pernilla directed Jenna to take Becka to the bench.

"Have her sit down and get her some water, I don't like how she looks right now."

"Yes ma'am," Jenna agreed with her girlfriend, and steered the young forward over to the bench, scooping up a bottle of water and packet of gummy candy, feeding Becka slow sips of water and a few pieces of the candy to sort out her equilibrium.

"Caroline."

The youngest girls traded looks as Miss Pernilla spoke, then Anna and Hanna scuttled out of the way to sit beside Becka on the bench. Pernilla's attention had drifted from them to Caroline Seger, the Skipper, team eldest and captain.

She was even a few years older than Pernilla, though that didn't seem to matter at present. 

Caro stood up and crossed the room, holding her head up, eyes meeting Pernilla's.

"You wanted to speak with me, Miss Pernilla?"

Pernilla's eyebrows rose slightly. "Hmm. Would you like to explain to me how you managed to take down two Argentinian girls at once, and right after another had been stretchered off, too, though that wasn't your fault," she added, her gaze returning briefly to Hanna.

Caro exhaled slowly. "I'm afraid I don't know, ma'am," she said truthfully. "They were just...there. I understand that isn't acceptable."

"You're certainly right about that. It isn't acceptable." Pernilla nodded to the band wrapped snugly around Caro's arm. "Give it to Magda."

Caro's eyes widened slightly, but she did as Miss Pernilla bid, understanding what it meant. She would be subbed off, announced when the whistle blew for the second half to begin. Caro's time in this match was done.

"There isn't time enough for you and I to have our discussion before the match resumes, Caroline. But you will stay here, and we will be having it," Pernilla promised.

Cheeks flushed, Caro nodded. "Yes, Miss Pernilla."

Miss Pernilla said no more. The time had come to return to the match, and she let them go - all except Caro, who was replaced by Elin Rubensson. Play resumed in earnest, and the next to be subbed off were Amanda Ilestedt and Olivia Schough, for Linda Sembrandt and Lina Hurtig, a little past the hour. Olivia clung to Amanda, not looking forward to what, or rather who, would be waiting for her when they went to the dressing room.

The ball was careening all over the place, but suddenly it was at Sofia's feet. She wasn't near enough - she knew she wasn't. But on a hunch, she crossed it to Becka, who took the shot.

Goal.

It had taken until the 66th minute, but Sweden finally had their 1-0 lead.

A few minutes later, Sofia was whistled down for a foul, and then - before she could get in real trouble - she was subbed off.

She traded places with Johanna Kaneryd, not arguing, and headed down the tunnel to go find Caro.

What she found, astonishingly, was Caro standing facing the corner, the red marks on her upper thighs.

And, Sofia had to surmise, higher up, covered for the moment by her shorts.

But the sight of Caro in the corner was just about too much for her. She sat down on the bench, covering her face.

"You may come out now, Sara," Miss Pernilla said, and bewildered, Sofia looked around the room.

Caro turned from the corner, face red with embarrassment, and returned to sit very reluctantly next to Sofia.

"Sara Caroline Seger," Pernilla continued, and Sofia's eyes widened in startled realization. "If I ever," Pernilla continued, "have to do this again, I will be extremely displeased with you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Miss Pernilla," Caro whispered, shivering. 

Sofia grasped Caro's hand, giving it a squeeze in reassurance. It wasn't so much a surprise to her that Caro had a first name she didn't use - they were the same in that way, it seemed - but she'd never had cause to hear it before. Not where she'd recognize Sara as meaning Caro.

Miss Pernilla let the two snuggle together, Sofia comforting Caro in the way Caro usually soothed her. It was a startling role reversal for the older Swede, but she accepted Sofia’s comfort nevertheless.

“I’m sorry I failed as your Captain today, Sof.”

“You didn’t, Caro,” Sofia said, startled. “Everyone makes mistakes sometimes.”

“That’s right,” Miss Pernilla agreed. “And mistakes must be corrected. You handled your correction admirably, Sara.”

Blushing, Caro looked down at her lap. “Thank you, Miss Pernilla. Will you please call me Caro again?”

Miss Pernilla nodded. “All right,” she conceded. 

They waited out the rest of the match together. A second goal, a penalty by Elin Rubensson, brought Sweden up 2-0 in the 90th minute, and after that, their victory was assured. The last few minutes of the match seemed longer than they needed to be, but at last everyone was back inside the locker room.

“Bennison.”

Hanna took an anxious step toward Miss Pernilla, her hands pressed against the back of her shorts in a vain effort to protect her bottom.

“You’ll be getting six with the Ornäs.”

The announcement set the entire team on edge, and Sofia grimaced as Miss Pernilla produced the birch paddle. Stina came and sat beside Sofia, their fingers twining together for comfort as they looked on the hated implement once more.

“At least it’s not us this time,” Sofia muttered, and Stina nodded furtively. 

“Poor Hanna, though.”

Sofia nodded.

With the team’s eyes on them, Miss Pernilla fixed Hanna with a look. “Bare, and hands on the bench,” she ordered.

Reluctantly, Hanna got into the required position, blushing as she bared her bottom for the strokes before bending over. She gripped the edge of the bench tightly.

The swish of the implement through the air was Hanna’s only warning before the flat surface impacted her bottom cheeks. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

Each swat landed just far enough apart for Hanna to feel it, but she wasn’t required to keep count. She was too focused on holding still to count, anyway, but the firm swats had her crying hard, especially the two that impacted her upper thighs, leaving her as red as Caro.

“S-sorry, sorry ma’am, sorry Miss Pernilla!” she babbled. “I’ll be good, I promise!”

“We can only hope so,” Miss Pernilla said dryly. “But I believe you will try.” Sighing, she lifted Hanna to her feet, tugging her clothes back up into place for her.

Without being asked, Sofia and Stina went to hug Hanna, holding her in solidarity as she wept. The Ornäs, the birch paddle, was a formidable weapon in the hands of the right person - and Miss Pernilla was assuredly the right person.

It would be a long night for many of them. But at least, as Kosse and Magda pointed out with a tired laugh - if nothing else, they had won.

“Time to focus on the knockout rounds, then,” Caro said with quiet authority, regaining her composure. “Thank you for your assistance, Miss Pernilla.”

“Just Pernilla’s fine now, Caro,” Pernilla said gently. “It’s all forgiven now, all done. Unless it happens again.”

Caro shook her head. “I don’t intend for it to happen again.”

“Good,” Pernilla said. “Then let’s just look forward to the next match.”

On that, they could all agree.