Chapter 7
April 12, 2013.
"Alexia!"
My sister was standing outside by the school gates, training uniform on, her skin bronzed from the Barcelona sun. I hadn't been expecting her to pick me up from school that day, but it was always a nice surprise when she did because it meant going to her training instead of Mami's work.
"Hola, pequena!" She lifted me easily into her arms, spinning me in almost a full circle and carrying me out towards her car, avoiding the sympathetic glances she received from the parents around.
I think she was sick of them, our father died almost a year ago and she had been picking me up at least once a week since. Surely they should be aware of it by now?
I was placed in my booster seat in the back of the car, Alexia stepping into the front seat and smiling at me through the rear view mirror.
"Everyone is so excited to see you, pequena! I told them all this morning and they've been waiting all day."
I nodded from the back seat before diving into chatter about my day, what I had done at school. Alexia smiled and nodded from the front seat, only adding to the conversation when I left small gaps between my endless streams of chatter.
The chatter continued as we arrived and I skipped ahead of her before she grabbed my hand with a stern glance, warning me to be safe on the roads.
But Alexia was forgotten as I ran into the changing rooms, straight into Leila's open arms.
"Hola, mi amor." She planted a soft kiss on the top of my head, trying to control my energetic and wriggly body.
"Hola, Leila!"
My long spiel started again, this time spoken directly to Leila as the others sat and watched in amusement, Alexia rolling her eyes at my loud and persisting voice.
But my voice was silenced as soon as they went back out onto the training pitch, sat on the rug that Alexia had laid out with some colouring books and toys. Books and toys that lay abandoned as I stared at the footballers in front of me.
They were incredible, I always thought. They moved so quickly up and down the pitch, shooting and passing the ball with pinpoint precision that I could only imagine to possess as a 6 year old who had only started to learn to play a few months ago.
I idolised my sisters teammates almost as much as I idolised Alexia and I constantly tried to pick up on things they did, trying to be like them, trying to improve my own abilities.
Alba came down and sat next to me, but was unable to pull me out of my trance, instead pulling out her schoolbook and doing some homework as we waited for Alexia to finish up.
But Alexia finishing up meant I was about to start, so I ignored Alba's groan as I jumped up from the floor as the whistle blew, running over to grab a stray ball and attempting to dribble it around the patch of grass near Alba.
It wasn't long before Marta jogged over, guiding me to the small training pitch and trying to intercept the ball and getting me to try dispossess her as she dribbled along.
It was all fun and games until we started shooting, and I found myself incapable of getting a single goal in the back of the net. I was progressively getting more and more upset, with Marta's words of encouragement doing little to cheer me up as I remained unsuccessful in scoring a single goal.
I was forced to give up when Alexia rushed onto the field, apparently recognising my distress and picking me up, holding me close.
I immediately calmed down. Alexia's arms were magical in that way, they never failed to calm me down, to cheer me up. To make me warm, to make me comfortable.
My cries into Alexia's chest were light and she ran her hand up and down my back softly, smiling at Marta as the older Spaniard planted a kiss on my head and said goodbye.
"Pequena, why are you so upset?"
"Because, Ale, I can't even score a goal! You and your team can score a goal from ages and ages away but I can't even score one from right in front of it!"
Alexia laughs softly and I frown.
"You are six, Elena, you are so little and you have only been playing for a couple months. We are professionals, we have to be able to do these things because that is our job, just like your job is to learn how to read and write at school, something you are very good at! You will get better as you continue to practice, we have already seen you get so much better. You got the ball off Marta today, you should be proud of yourself like I am proud of you."
"I just want to be like you, Ale. Why can't I be like you?"
I lean my head into Alexia as she adjusts her hold of me and wanders over to where my belongings were left abandoned.
"You are just like me. When I was your age I was exactly like you are now, only less determined and less talented. You will be better than me one day, pequena, if you keep working so hard. You just need to remember that I will always be proud of you. Every day of my life I wake up and think of how proud I am, how lucky I am that you are my baby sister. I love you pequena."
"Even if I am bad at football?"
"Even if you are bad at football. Which you aren't, by the way. You are incredible."
~~~~~~
November 18, 2017.
It was game day.
The Catalonia cup final day, and my whole family was sat in the audience to watch as I played in the final for the under 11s. I only turned 9 last week, but was invited to play with this team a few months ago.
The game was a big deal for me, playing with people so much older, so much taller. I felt the pressure as well, a defender against a team where the top of my head barely reached the base of the necks of the attackers from the other team.
It was nerve wracking, and I felt everything churning inside me as I walked onto the field and into my position, waiting for the ref to blow his whistle and for the game to commence.
I didn't want to look up into the stands, hyperaware of everyone watching me, everyone waiting for me to be just like Alexia. To stand out, to be fast, to be precise, to be incredible.
But Alexia is a midfielder and I am a centre back. I am not like Alexia, but the only one who seems to understand that is Alexia.
To everyone else, I am a younger version of her, waiting to follow in her footsteps. La Masia, Barcelona B. Barcelona first team.
It makes me wonder what they will think if I don't have the perfect career like Alexia.
But I am only 9, still to young to even trial for La Masia, so the under 11s from the local team will have to do.
The game starts out well, my team scores twice in thirty minutes and we finish the first half up two goals to none. We are happy as we sit on the sidelines with our coach for the 15 minute break, eating slices of orange and joking around.
I sometimes wonder how different it is at half time for Alexia when she plays in her big games. I don't think they eat oranges. Or joke around.
The second half does not go nearly as well. It starts off with a goal to us, but the other team quickly gain possession and score easily. It's upsetting, but we are still two goals up.
When their next goal goes in, we begin to get nervous, skittish. We are still a goal up, but it is not a big enough gap for our liking, especially since they just got two very quickly.
The scoreline remains at 3-2 until the 81st minute, when an attacker from the other team tears all the way down the pitch and into the box. I am in the right position, it is entirely up to me to stop this goal from going in.
But I don't. I try to dispossess her, but I'm unsuccessful. She sends the ball right through my legs and into the net for the equalising goal and I bit back my tears as she celebrates with her friends.
My teammates pat me on the back, telling me it doesn't matter, that we can get another goal in the dying minutes of the game, but I am not focussed on them.
I am focused on my family sitting in the stands because all I can see is disappointment.
Except Alexia, who smiles and puts her thumbs up with an encouraging smile.
But I am a disappointment, because I allowed the other team to equalise.
Alexia wouldn't have done that.
My teammates were right, they score again in the second minute of added time, and we celebrate winning the cup with medals and a trophy. But it all feels tainted, because I almost ruined this for the team.
I disappointed my family because I am a Putellas, we are supposed to be good at football.
It is only when we return to the dressing room that the first tears slip out, but I wipe them away quickly, frustrated that I couldn't stop them from starting in the first place.
Surprisingly, Alexia is the only family member who is outside the dressing room with the other families, and I run directly into her arms, grateful that they are already outstretched.
Her arms are like home. Like they have done for all my life, they cheer me up, take away some of my sadness.
"You played so well, pequena! I am so, so proud of you, my little champion!"
She grabs the piece of metal that hangs from my neck and kisses it.
"Another gold to add to our collection."
Our collection.
Like we collect them together.
I just won an under 11s Catalonia cup, after almost ruining my teams chances. She has a number of Primera division medals, copa de la reina, copa catalunya, golf medals from world championships at the youth age level. A never ending list of MVP awards, honours from spain, from Catalonia and from Mollet del Valles.
And I almost lost my team the Catalonia Cup.
We are not the same, Alexia and I. I just wish my family would see that, understand that I won't be like Alexia because how could I ever be that good.
Alexia seems to pick up on my negative mood, lifting me up like I am still 5 years old and holding me close.
"I know what you are thinking, Elena."
I look at her curiously, a silent question that asks her to continue.
"You are thinking that their equaliser was entirely your fault, that you almost cost the team your victory, no?"
I nod slowly, and she wipes away the tear that slips from my eye.
"You never would have done something like that, Ale."
She shakes her head, chuckling slightly.
"You don't even want to know how many mistakes I've made, how many times I've thought it was all my fault that we lost or almost lost a game. This is your first, but it won't be your last and that is ok. Football is a team sport, Elena, it is never an individuals fault. You wouldn't be mad at a keeper for making a mistake and conceding an important goal and you can't blame the striker for not shooting enough if you lose an important game. Just like you can't blame a defender for conceding. The striker had to get through the midfield first, and they all made mistakes there, and other defenders could have helped you out but they didn't, the keeper wasn't positioned well either but everyone tried their best and accidentally conceded a goal. It's a team, pequena, you win together, lose together, score together and conceded together. And look at how many clearances you made! All those tackles where you recovered the ball, prevented their attack. I am so proud of you today because you were one of the best players on the pitch."
I nod slowly, slumping into her arms.
"I just wish I could be like you, Ale. Because you are so good and everyone knows it. I am so scared that I will disappoint everyone by not living up to what you've done, but how can I? You are so good."
She sighs, shaking her head.
"You are my sister, but that doesn't mean we are the same on the pitch. I am a terrible defender, you are a great one. I can score goals easier than you, but it doesn't mean you're not as good, or can't grow to be a professional like I am. And nobody will ever be disappointed in you either! Whether you play for Barcelona for the rest of your life or if you go and play for a terrible team like Arsenal, or even if you quit football altogether and decide to go down another road because that is always an option too! You are smart like I am not, you are artistic like I am not and you can play that piano better than anyone else I've heard. What I'm saying is that just because we both love football, we are not the same. Everyone knows that and nobody will ever be disappointed in you if you don't follow the same career that I have."
"They all looked so disappointed when I conceded though."
She shook her head again.
"They shouldn't have, because they were not. But even if everyone else fails you, pequena, which they won't, but if they do, you will always have me cheering you on. I will always be there, your annoying, old, proud sister, every single day I am alive I will be proud of you no matter what you do, because I love you so much, you are everything to me."
She wipes away the tears that slipped from my eyes, planting a kiss on my head.
"Now everyone is waiting for us, a big celebration dinner because you won today. Everyone is so proud of you, Elena. You are growing into such a talented and strong little girl, the best centre back our family has ever seen."
I smile.
Maybe I don't need to be just like Alexia to succeed.
Maybe Elena is alright too.
~~~~~~
July 4, 2019.
I was invited to trial for La Masia, but I don't know if I want to go.
I know I am good at football, but I don't even know if I want to play anymore.
Because last week I played the best game I have in a long time, but this morning I singlehandedly lost my team any chances we have of winning the under 15s title.
It had been rough from the beginning and it was even worse considering we were on the top of the league and we were playing a team from close to the bottom. We couldn't get past their defence, but their attack was easily finding their way through our midfield and defensive line.
We conceded three and scored none.
All three of the conceded goals were my fault.
Every. Single. One.
Alba told me after the game that it was alright, it didn't matter.
Mami hugged me and said it would be better next time.
But it isn't alright, it does matter and who knows if it will be better next time?
Alexia was in France, relaxing after her disappointing end to the world cup, but Mami or Alba must have filled her in on the disaster that was my game before she got home, because as soon as she arrived, she was upstairs and into my room, pulling me into a hug.
"I don't want you to tell me that it doesn't matter, Alexia, because it does. Please don't tell me that football is a team sport and it isn't just my fault, because it is. It's all my fault and now I've destroyed their chances of winning the league. So please, don't tell me otherwise."
She shook her head, her arms tightening around my body.
"Mami said you don't want to trial for La Masia anymore?"
I shake my head. I don't think I can even face the trials after the embarrassment that was the other night.
"That's ok. You don't have to if you don't want to."
I look up at her in confusion.
"Really?"
"Absolutely not."
She looks right back at me, brushing the hairs out of my face.
"You're only 11, Elena. You put a lot of pressure on yourself to be great which is not necessary. You are already brilliant. If you don't want to trial, you don't have to. You love school, you love your current team and if you don't want that all to change it doesn't have to. There is always next time if you decide you want to make that jump."
I don't know how she always knows what I am thinking, because I never told her how much I would miss my school and football team if I ended up at La Masia.
"And what if I don't? What if I don't want to play football any more. Throw away everything I have ever worked for. Wouldn't you be disappointed?"
I don't want her to tell me she wouldn't be, because I don't think that's the truth.
"Elena, I will never be disappointed in you. Yes, I would be upset, but that is only because it is something so special that we share, something that connects us in a way that I can't be connected to anyone else in this family. But I love you and I would get over it eventually. But today, let's think about now."
I nod, which she uses as an indicator to continue.
"You're 11 years old, starting as a centre back in the under 15s. You are good, very good and play games so well that nobody would even notice you were so young if it wasn't for your height. You had a bad game the other day, but every other week you have saved that team so many times, so if it wasn't for you, they would have lost that trophy weeks ago. You are smart, have heaps of friends at school and love to play the piano, to read, to hang out with those friends. You love to do things outside of football, it's all equally important. You were scouted to trial for La Masia, but you are 11 and these trials happen every six months so there will be many more chances for you to trial if you decide not to this time but change your mind later. You have a huge family of support right behind you, and you have me, who will always be so proud of you. It's all laid out in front of you, Elena, you just have to make a decision."
A tear slips out of my eye but she is quick to brush it away.
"I don't want to trial, not yet."
Her arms pull me tighter.
"I think that's a good decision. I am proud of you, pequena. You need more time to decide what you want to do. Not want Mami wants you to do, not what I want you to do. Not what anybody else wants you to do. I am proud that you have given yourself that time. You are mature, Elena, and so, so smart."
"I love you, Alexia."
"I love you too. Always."
Her arms are so warm around me that I feel myself drifting to sleep in them, waking up when the sun rises the next morning, still with her right arm hanging loosely around my waist.
I am lucky to have her, I decide. So lucky, because she is like a guiding light who makes everything so much clearer. I don't know what I would do without her.
~~~~~~
I made my debut for Barcelona yesterday. I came in for Irene in the 88th minute, Jonatan said he wanted me to get some minutes under my legs before I could play for longer.
The feeling of running onto the pitch in the Barcelona kit, my name and number on my back, alongside the players I have grown up idolising was something I will never forget.
Something so special, a turning point in my life that could map out my entire career.
But it was all tainted by what I have lost. What I should have had supporting me. Who I should have had supporting me.
"I will always be proud of you, Elena."
I think she has forgotten all those times she told me that, but I certainly have not.
It feels like a long time since I have felt emotions like this. It feels like an even longer time that I have really felt happy. Euphoric, even.
It is harder for a centre back to be subbed in, because they make the foundations of the formation. But we were up by 6 to nothing so it was a safe bet. Any mistakes I made would not lose us points.
I didn't make mistakes though. I made clearances, I stopped the ball from going past Cata and into the goal. Jonatan was happy, Aitana hugged me as soon as the final whistle blew.
Mami was there, of course, cheering from the crowd.
It feels like months since I have seen her. It has been a while since we have spoken properly, although she does not bring that up as she pulls me into a hug, telling me how proud she is of me.
Alba stands from beside her, staring at me intensely, as if worried I will run away again.
She knows that if she brings up the last time that happened, I probably will.
The last month has been rough. I have stayed with Mapi, only leaving the safety of my room in her apartment for training. I did my school, I trained hard and I ate every meal. My days slipped by, I felt nothing. Not happy, not sad. Not anything.
I think I was confused. Exhausted too. I had exploded, finally, and so I had to suffer from the repercussions.
Mapi tried her very best to help clean up after that tidal wave finally hit, but her efforts weren't enough to rebuild what had been destroyed. So I ignored her when she came into my room each night, telling me that Alexia was outside, that Alexia wanted to see me.
I didn't want to see her because I don't think I would have been able to hold it together if she had come crying to me.
But she is here today and I don't think Mapi will let me avoid her when she inevitably approaches me in the change rooms.
I walk there slowly, saying goodbye to Mami and Alba quietly and trailing behind Patri and Pina who don't even notice my presence. It is because I have been so quiet, I think, they don't really know what to do with me. They don't know what to say to make me feel better.
There's not much that will.
The room erupts into loud cheers as I enter, most of the older players proud of me for finally making my debut.
It would have been a dream debut, really, if things were different.
But everything is ruined, everything is overshadowed by so many things.
Alexia has done all this before me, made her debut, broken into the first squad. I am simply just doing what is expected of me, as a Putellas.
She got selected because of her talent. I was selected because Mapi got injured.
But she is right there as I get passed through the room, standing up against the doorway, a soft smile on her face.
Mapi is the one who pushes me towards her and I can't decide whether she doesn't notice my attempts of making frantic eye contact with her, or if she just decides to ignore it. She whispers that everything will be fine, that I just need to talk to her and things will start to get better.
I try telling her that she's wrong, that it's not that easy.
But those arms are around me as soon as I am in reaching distance and it takes everything inside of me to not crack right there. But I can feel the parts of me that were slowly rebuilt over the past month start to fall apart again, but differently.
All those things that crashed out of me by my piano a few months ago come racing right back inside. It is like she gathered them all up in her arms and carried them around for me until she saw me next, until she would be able to give them back.
She sort of picks me up as I start to cry, moving out and into one of the physio rooms, giving us more privacy. Away from the prying eyes of our teammates who have been so intrigued by the drama between us.
So intrigued by the drama that has been ripping me up from the inside.
And it looks like it has also been ripping up Alexia, if you look at the suitcases under her eyes and the severe discolouration in her face.
"Elena." Her voice is clearly tearful, but I can barely hear it over the gut wrenching cries thatI am releasing.
In reality, they aren't really that loud but they overcome me in a way that blocks out everything else around me.
Because I have been void of everything for over a month, no emotions. Not happy, sad, confused, excited, disappointed. Not anything.
But to feel those arms. Her arms that keep me safe, that shelter me from life's issues. It is a feeling like no other.
Something I can finally feel.
And I never want to not feel again, because even though I am not happy, at least I am finally feeling something. At least I am not so empty like I have been, a bottomless pit in my stomach that simply could not be filled.
And with Alexia's arms around me, it feels like I can get through anything.
I am a Putellas. I am strong.
"Elena... I have been a terrible big sister." Her voice breaks and her head lands in my hair.
"And I have been thinking and thinking, wracking my brain to try and figure out what started this all, and I finally remembered the other day. Elena, I do not deserve you."
I move out from beneath her, looking at her intently.
Wet eyes meet wet eyes and I immediately pull her into a hug.
"I have missed you so much, Ale. I have missed you so much."
"I am so, so, so sorry, Elena. Nothing I say will be enough."
We speak at the same time, tears consuming us as we both try to fix our relationship.
Fix the relationship that has been shattered, broken, kicked, destroyed.
Fix the relationship that I would do anything to repair.
"Please, listen to me."
I look up at her as she grabs my face, cupping my cheeks in her hands and wiping away the tears that have fallen.
"I said things to you. Things that I didn't mean, things that were wrong. And then I questioned why you weren't comfortable around me as much any more. And I stopped being your sister, pequena. I stopped watching your games, picking you up from training, taking you to ice cream, helping you with your homework. I just stopped a few years ago and never even tried to explain, never tried to regain your trust."
I frown.
"At my party, the La Masia one. When I cried. You got upset at me and I was childish about the whole thing, I used it against you for so long."
"And you have every right to, Elena, because I was so terrible and I wish I had a reason, something to excuse my words, but I do not. I was stressed, I was anxious. I projected it all onto my perfect baby sister because I didn't know what else to do. And I was a bad sister before that, too. I never should have told you that I was too busy for you because you are so much more important than anything else in my life, but I acted like I didn't care about you at all. I am a terrible sister."
"I didn't help." My voice is mousy, squeaky. Because I have been crying and I am doing everything I can to avoid another round of tears. "I didn't make it easier for you, I wasn't strong like you, like I should have been."
Alexia inhales sharply, immediately shaking her head, pulling mine back into her chest in a tight hug.
"I never want to hear those words come out of your mouth again, Elena, because you are the strongest person I know and I am so, so proud of everything you have done. You have been brave, determined, passionate, so many things. I have been the weak one. I have been so scared of losing you, but I was the one who ruined everything and I lost you, I let you slip through my fingers and I will never forgive myself for that. You are incredible, Elena, and you won't let anyone tell you otherwise. Not me, not anyone."
"I have missed you so much."
Alexia is surprised when I lean further into her arms, but I am grateful when she tightens them around me.
She is my older sister, and I have missed her so much.
She is my older sister, and I lost her for a while. I lost her and my life became miserable. My days were more dreary and I began to hate everything else in my life.
But now she is here, she has acknowledged the issues and I finally feel some relief.
I finally feel like I am getting her back.
Her arms are filling me up with all those emotions, warm ones, cold ones. Things I never want to feel again but things I want to feel every day for the rest of my life.
Alexia is my sister.
And I realised, last night, that I don't have to be exactly like her, because I am not her. I am Elena, and I debuted for Barcelona at 15.
The youngest to ever do it.
It's pretty cool.
But it's even better to have my sister there, cheering for me like she always said she would. She is proud, she loves me and I do think she has missed me like I have missed her.
And I can finally feel myself mending.
We spoke more after the celebrations, she took me to dinner, slowly patching up my insides that I once thought were beyond prepare.
She told me over and over that she was sorry, she feels terrible and she will never let me slip away from her again. She says that I am incredible and that she wishes she had my talent, that I will grow to become the best that the club has ever seen and that I have already paved my way into the history of this football club.
But she also tells me that I am a good person, with good values and a good heart. That Papi would be proud of the person I have become. Not just the footballer, the person.
For the second time that day, I feel happy, full of love, completely content.
Because Alexia loves me, and sometimes, the love of a sister is all you need.