Not just a game

Wembley had never felt louder.

The crowd buzzed with the tension and anticipation that only a cup final could create. Red and blue flags waved like tides in the stands, rather even, no team having more fans than the other. Though yet again. Arsenal versus Chelsea. The Women's FA Cup Final. Everything we'd fought for this season had led to this moment.

I stood in the middle of the huddle, heart pounding, boots digging into the soft, churned-up turf. Our team has given everything so far. Viv's been making clever runs, Leah's defence has been the best it had in ages, I mean she's always been amazing but right now, I've never seen her so serious, so switched on, not been getting involved in any banter for the last week. Katie's tireless effort, and Lessi's relentless pressing. Everyone has been doing their job. Still, after ninety minutes and extra time, we were tied. 1-1.

Penalties.

I had never done penalties at Wembley or in a cup match. Not under this kind of pressure. To be honest I've only done them in training.

"Okay," Jonas said, voice calm despite the storm around us. "Viv. First. Then Alessia. Then Kim. Then... you." He looked at me. "Fourth. You okay with that?"

I nodded, slowly, feeling nervous at the trust. "Uhhh... maybe. I guess I don't know."

I'd barely caught my breath from extra time. My legs were shaking, hands cold, going numb under the weather. It's nearly summer yet somehow England is still freezing at times. I couldn't say no to taking the penalty. Not in front of them. I need to prove that I'm ready.

Viv touched my shoulder as we broke from the huddle. "Just pick your spot. Don't overthink. You got this, I believe in you."

"Trust yourself," Alessia added, offering a small smile. "You've got this."

Leah met my eyes. She didn't say anything. Just gave me a nod, steady and sure. I held onto that.

I wish I had as much faith in myself as they did.

The penalties began. Viv stepped up and calmly slotted it bottom right like the icon she is. 1-0. Chelsea scored. 1-1. Alessia sent theirs the wrong way. 2-1. Chelsea again. 2-2. Kim's shot hit the back of the net with her usual cool precision. 3-2. Chelsea equalised. 3-3. Then it was me.

I walked to the spot alone, heart pounding in my ears. The noise from the crowd dulled, muffled, like I was underwater. The ball sat still in front of me. Hannah Hampton bounced on her line, arms waving.

Pick a spot. I did. Left corner. Top left, difficult to save, easy for me to shoot. I've practiced it so many times. Hundreds of times.

I took a breath, stepped forward, and struck. It was clean. The type of shot that should go into the corner. Should. Hannah Hampton had to guess right didn't she, got a solid hand to it too. Then both. She smothered the ball.

Saved.

No goal.

I stood frozen for a second, watching as she was swarmed by blue shirts. My stomach dropped, crashing through the floor.

The rest happened too fast. Chelsea scored again. Then Katie missed our final penalty.

Chelsea 5 – Arsenal 3.

They had won. I didn't move. Didn't cry. Didn't breathe. Just stood there, guilt washing over me as the other players cried, upset from the loss, a few blues comforting them.  Slowly my legs gave up to me and I ended up with my face in my hands, facing the dirty floor.

A few players came up to me but I didn't reply I couldn't, I just stayed sat down, staring at the spot on the floor. Hands on my head. How could I let this happen?