Soccer/Football Imagines

Neymar (Part 2) [~] Brazilian Striker

For crouchie28:

                Brazil had been doing great so far in the World Cup. You topped the charts as top goal scorer of the World Cup so far and you were listed as #6 for number of assists. Brazil had successfully left the group stage at head of the pack with goal differential. In between games, you had been talking with Neymar. He hadn't stayed in Canada and went back to Brazil. You two texted back and forth for hours until you had to leave for training or get much needed rest.

                Brazil had successfully catapulted past the round of sixteen and the quarter finals, having avoided any penalty shootouts so far. Now you stood at the end of the group, breathing in and out slowly. It was the quarter finals and now was your time to pull Brazil ahead. You glanced to the left, staring distastefully at the German flag next to you.

                You didn't hate the Germans per say, you just hated how they had humiliated your country on your home turf. The memory of national shame forever engraved in your mind, you focused in front of you. You knew that these Germans were good, great even. They topped the standings in FIFA Ranking prior to the World Cup. And like you, they had little problem making it to the semi-finals.

                They were tall, huge even. You weren't the tallest player on your team but you weren't short either. These women, however, towered over you. Sighing to yourself again, you walked out of the tunnel, following your teammates. Linking arms, you sang your national anthem loudly and proudly with your teammates and supporters in the crowd. The German national anthem played.

                You tuned out the harsh words and focused on the game ahead of you. The teams broke apart to set up for the game. You walked to the center of the field, standing directly behind the ball. Locking eyes with the woman in front of you, a sense of national pride coursed through your veins. "For my country," you spat as the whistle blew.

                You passed the ball forward and the game begun. Your teammates played with the same determination you did, to restore your nation's pride. The Brazilian flags in the crowd made you smile. The first half consisted of rough housing from both sides, both trying to get an edge on the other. You had taken a shot on goal. The keeper had batted it away.

                You growled to yourself as the half ended in a bitter draw. Walking back down to the locker room, you sucked water down greedily. Your coach congratulated you guys before firing you up. You were pumped up. Retaking the field, you looked over at the German side. They looked as determined as you were. They too were playing for national pride.

                Two world cup wins back to back for the Germans would be astounding and their woman looked as intent as their men did to win. You stood outside the circle, waiting for the game to restart. The refs retook the field. The whistle blew and the Germans retained the ball. You ran forward, challenging a German for the ball. She passed it back and you continued to run after the ball. The keeper got the ball and punted it out of their half. You watched as your defense took on the Germans.

                They repelled them for now but the Germans continued to press. A German found an opening and shot the ball towards your goal. You watched despairingly as the ball entered the net. The German side exploded in cheers, their liveliness not able to overpower your newfound gloominess. You swore in Portuguese, kicking the ground angrily. You restarted play only to have the Germans score once again five minutes later. They cheered again as you stood at half field, unable to do anything. You cursed again, seeing the despairing faces of your teammates around you. You looked desperately around at the crowd.