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#ballon d'or 2021
gxtzeizm · 1 year
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okay sumpah dah lama aq tak cari gaduh dengan orang lain....panas pulak hati aq tengok fans m*ssi cari masalah kat tags bayern nyampah lah sial menyirap aq tahu tak
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meowmeowmessi · 11 months
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lewa twerking for messi is hilarious i know this pole wants those assists to statpad for another pichichi
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sportbarcelona · 1 year
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HIGHEST WORLD CUP GOAL SCORER FOR ARGENTINA
By scoring seven goals at the 2022 World Cup, Lionel Messi went past Gabriel Batistuta (12) to become Argentina’s all-time highest goalscorer in World Cup with 13 goals to his name.
full story
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heroesoffootball · 2 years
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maxsimagination · 4 months
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𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗽 𝘁𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝗲- 𝗮.𝗽𝘂𝘁𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮𝘀
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warnings: smut. based in 2021.
18+ under the cut
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ballon d'or.
the highest honour in the world of football.
the awards ceremony was being held tonight, and the highest names in the leagues were going to be there - male and female. i was over the moon that i had been nominated, i would have been happy with just an invitation to view the celebration.
nominated from the barcelona women's team there was me, alexia, jenni, irene and sandra. mapi was also attending but she hadn't been nominated, only invited.
i had a gut feeling that i hadn't come first, normally the winners were made aware at least 10 hours before the actual ceremony. since i hadn't heard anything and we were en route to the venue, it was my natural assumption.
the girls were all chatting in the limousine that the barcelona staff had hired out. i was sat next to mapi and irene. the latter was talking my ear off about how cool the night is going to be, even if none of us won.
i was by far one the youngest players to be nominated this year, only 20 years old, but turning 21 in the next couple of months.
we pulled up to the event just then, and all six of us exited the car, following the men in suits that guided us. one by one, we all walked onto the red carpet, had a couple of pictures taken, along with a group one of everyone form barcelona femeni. finally the photos were over with and we could head inside to sit down.
the crowd that was already sitting in the massive ceremony hall was insane. most of the left side was already filled up and the right side had a couple of people lingering around it. we took our seats and i let out a sigh of relief. it wasn't that i didn't like these things, i just hated the heels i was wearing.
"you okay, chica?"
i heard a voice i knew to be alexia's from my left and i turned to her with a tired smile.
"sí, just tired. and my feet hurt."
she laughed at that, patting my clothed thigh.
"i can give you a massage when we get home, cariño."
she squeezed my thigh as she whispered in my ear, her voice turning gravelly. it was insanely hot.
"ale..."
my voice held a warning; we were in public and on live tv, she shouldn't do this here.
"y/n... you know i love that dress on you."
i was wearing a plain black dress but it was halter neck with a low back and two slits, one on each leg. i blushed hard at her words, feeling the shivers travel through my body.
finally the ceremony got underway, all the long-winded speeches and guest speakers.
it felt like a million years had passed before the actual awards were being held up. the men's awards came first, of course, then the women's. all the nominees were told to stand and wait backstage so they could all walk out on stage when they were called.
that meant all of our group but mapi had to get up. i gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before getting up and walking off.
alexia was behind me the entire time, and when we were safely out of eyesight, i felt her hand on the small of my back, dangerously close to slipping under the fabric. and she did, her fingers dipped under the waistband to latch onto the minuscule thong i had worn underneath the dress.
"oh, bebita... so naughty."
she leant down and whispered in my ear. i tensed up before one of the backstage directors called out for all of us women to get into the directed positions. that meant alexia and i had to split up.
when our names were called out we walk out. the nerves were still buzzing around inside me, and it got worse when i didn't hear my name called for the first few people.
i had almost automatically assumed i'd be near the bottom, being so young and what some would called 'inexperienced'. so you can imagine my surprise when i was called as 4th overall. my jaw dropped to the floor for a split second before i remembered to walk out.
then when all the other players were called as well, the hosts called a guest speaker to announce the winner.
"and the winner of the ballon d'or feminin 2021 is... alexia putellas!" cheers erupted throughout the hall and i had the largest smile on my face as alexia walked out to collect the award. she thanked the speaker before turning to the crowd and holding up the golden ball for everyone to see.
alexia putellas, my teammate, my captain, my girlfriend, had won the ballon d'or.
——
it was almost half past ten when we arrived home after the ceremony. choosing to forgo the barcelona 'after party', alexia drove us straight to her apartment. the car ride was silent but in a comfortable way. i knew she wouldn't let me off the hook for the thong i'd worn tonight, so i was waiting until she said something.
when we got in the door, she walked straight to the bedroom, clearly expecting me to follow her. i quickly took my heels off and followed her. the second i stepped in the door, she was on me. her lips on mine, and her hands travelling to my ass.
"you have no clue what you do to me."
she breathed out heavily when we broke apart. i was just as breathless, my cheeks flushed red.
"ale, please."
she smirked before unzipping her dress, and telling me to take mine off too. i unclipped mine and let it fall to the floor. the moment i turned around i was in for a surprise.
alexia had somehow taken both her dress and underwear off in record time, and was standing facing me while securing our favourite strap. my eyes widened and i could myself getting more excited. alexia moved to the bed and laid down.
"let's warm you up, yea? you're gonna sit on my face."
i crawled up to her where her head was and swung my leg over. i sunk down on her and her mouth immediately latched onto my clit. i moaned at the contact, falling forward and having to steady myself with a hand on the headboard.
her mouth was working wonders, licking, sucking, biting, and bringing me closer and closer to my first orgasm of the night.
"ale, ale i'm close."
she didn't falter in her ministrations, just kept working her tongue on my clit. and just like that i fell over the edge, spasming and letting go all over alexia's face.
she licked one last stripe from my pulsing hole to my swollen clit before lifting me off her face and switching us.
"gonna need you on your knees, bebita."
i had an idea of where this was going and i was scrambling to get into position. alexia was stood behind me, her hand resting on my waist while i waited patiently. suddenly i felt the tip of her strap slide through my folds, before pushing into me. she took it slowly, letting me adjust to the size and setting a steady pace.
it was a delicious feeling, the way her cock slid in and out, filling me up before pulling out, only to push back in again. i let out a moan, and pushed my ass back to meet alexia's thrusts.
"needy girl, are you?"
"need it faster, please capitana."
the rank slipped out of my mouth without a thought. i could feel alexia's hand tighten her grip on my waist before her thrusts quickened.
i arched my back so my chest and face were resting on the bed and my ass was pushed up, on full display. still pushing back to meet alexia's thrusts again. my hand trailed down to my clit, desperate for some sort of friction. i was so close, i could feel it.
i started rubbing on the bundle of nerves harder, faster. my hole was clenching around alexia's cock faster now, i was right on the edge.
"ale, capitana, please. can i cum?"
"yes bebita, cum for me. cum all over my cock."
that was all the time i needed as i let go for the second time that night, dripping all over alexia's strap. alexia slowed down her thrusts and fucked me through my orgasm, then slowly pulling out and discarding the strap somewhere so she could clean up later.
"are you okay, cariño?"
i nodded, eyes closed, just soaking in the fucked-out bliss i was in.
"words, y/n."
alexia chuckled.
"that was the best sex ever."
i breathed out with a smile, opening my eyes and looking up into alexia's green orbs.
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adascore · 5 months
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The Golden War
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pairings: alexia putellas x lyonnais!reader
warnings: swearing. for culers the ‘22 uwcl final ig. jona is kinda mean in this.
author’s note: this is the same reader from my ‘one for the money, two for the show’ fic of the lionesses!captain. reader is basically ada hegerberg lolsies :) will be turned into a series.
masterlist
•••••
Turin, Italy - May, 2022
''The final has been dubbed as a duel between you and Alexia Putellas, do you experience it as that?''
The Lyon captain fought the urge to roll her eyes at the question, despite having expected it. ''It is a final between Barcelona and Lyon, nothing more than that.'' She answered, diplomatically- the way they had rehearsed it.
''Lyon is the underdog coming into this final- FC Barcelona has been unbeatable so far. What do you need to do in order to beat them tomorrow?'' Another reporter asked, a pen ready in his hand to take notes.
There was a slight change in her expression as the question left his lips, the man succeeding in poking through her stoic expression. ''Well, we have never lost to Barcelona- I don't know if you remember 3 years ago or even last year,''
Lyon had comfortably beaten the Spanish club in 2019. In that Champions League Final, Y/N had become the first player to score a hattrick in a UWCL final. Their last meeting had been in 2021, in the pre-season, where Lyon had won 3-2, the Lyon captain again putting one in the net.
''We have won this competition many times. There was football before Barcelona, and it was being played by us.''
Her last sentence of the quote had struck a nerve with the Barça captain.
''She acts like she has already won the whole thing.'' Alexia remarked as she read a transcript of the press conference.
Patri and Mapi glanced at one another, a knowing look in their eyes. ''Technically, there is nothing wrong about what she said, Ale. How many times has she won this competition now? 6? 7?'' The defender said, not having a problem with the opposition's words.
''She's just pissed that everyone is talking about us now.'' She ignored Mapi, continuing berating her opponent.
The rivalry between the captains of the two top teams had been something made up by the media, seeking a female counterpart to the famed Ronaldo-Messi rivalry. Both Alexia and Y/N led Europe's premier clubs, won the Champions League, captained their national teams, and earned the Ballon d'Or. This fueled incessant comparisons.
Alexia and Y/N hadn't given it much thought at first. There were also many differences between them; Alexia is a midfielder, while Y/N is a striker. Despite their similar ages, their careers took diverse paths. Alexia remained in the Spanish league, while Y/N gained experience across various countries.
Over time, an unexpected shift occurred. They began caring about each other's achievements. Yet, they knew the comparison wasn't fair.
Despite being younger, Y/N dominated women's football for longer, winning the Champions League seven times – twice with Wolfsburg and five times with Lyon. In contrast, Alexia secured one with Barcelona. Neither had won anything major with their national teams, though she had come close with England a few times. Furthermore, on the accolades side of things, Y/N led with a repertoire that most players could only dream of.
For a long time, it hadn't bothered Alexia. She had watched in admiration as the younger player became the first recipient of the Ballon d'Or, a huge step in women's football. Y/N's advocacy for the sport also didn't escape the Spanish player.
However, her admiration had turned into envy.
The turning point came in the 2019 final against Lyon. She had observed the way the English striker had celebrated with her entire team- how the Lyon squad immediately ran to her once the whistle blew and how Y/N bathed in all the (rightly deserved) glory. Alexia wanted that for herself. For years, Y/N had been the nail in Barcelona's coffin, scoring the goals that made sure they couldn't continue in the competition- in the captain's opinion, the striker had made a joke of her team for years, even if she didn't meant to do that.
Their interactions over the years were limited to polite handshakes before or after matches. Occasional encounters outside the pitch were rare and brief, seldom extending beyond a few sentences.
Alexia's surprise peaked when Y/N congratulated her on winning the Ballon d'Or through both private and public Instagram messages. Despite her reservations about comparisons and rivalry, receiving praise from someone she admired as one of the best in the game left Alexia with a positive feeling.
''No, I think she's just not a fan of being referred to as an underdog.'' Patri defended the Lyon striker.
This explanation didn't sit well with Alexia, evident from the displeasure on her face. ''Whatever,'' she retorted, looking forward to settling matters on the field that Saturday.
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Saturday, May 21, 2022
Excitement, adrenaline, nerves, and tension permeated the tunnel of Juventus Stadium as Alexia, tightly gripping her pennant, stood at the front of her lined-up team, awaiting the opposing captain.
The sudden hush among the Barcelona team signaled the arrival of their counterpart. Turning around, Alexia frowned at her teammates' fascination with the approaching striker.
This is not the time to be fangirling, she thought to herself, as she saw most of her players' eyes following the striker's figure.
As the two top players faced each other, uncertainty lingered about whether they should exchange greetings. Y/N broke the silence, deciding to offer some acknowledgment. ''Hey, you alright?'' Her charming English accent filled the air.
''Yeah, and you?'' Alexia almost cringed at her own quick response, not giving her brain time to think.
''I‘ll see in about 90 minutes.'' The younger one grinned.
I'll wipe that smirk off your fucking face, Alexia said in her mind, not a fan of the confidence the striker was oozing.
Ten minutes later, the referee blew the whistle, signaling the start of the highly-anticipated final.
Lyon applied intense pressure right from the start, managing to create two goal-scoring opportunities within the first three minutes of the match.
However, the audience were offered their first initial glimpse of the rivalry in the 6th minute of the game.
Y/N positioned herself strategically, eyes fixed on her teammate readying a precise pass to her. The ball zipped across the pitch, and in a heartbeat, both Y/N and Alexia were locked onto winning it for themselves.
The striker, a master of timing, surged forward. Simultaneously, the midfielder closed in on the target. The collision was inevitable.
Both players fell with a thud, groaning at the contact with the ground. Despite the force of the clash, they both showed resilience as they wanted to use the momentum to their advantage.
They were momentarily entangled, fighting for control of the ball. It was a brief display of the rivalry that had brewed between them.
Y/N rose swiftly from the turf, eyes filled with determination. The collision had only fueled her competitive fire. With the ball firmly at her feet, she accelerated away from the mess, leaving Alexia behind.
The crowd erupted in gasps and cheers as Y/N, now in open space, scanned the field. Seizing the opportunity, she unleashed a powerful strike from well outside the box.
Time seemed to slow as the ball sailed towards the goal. Panos's desperate dive was in vain as the ball found the back of the net. The roar of the crowd echoed through the stadium, a symphony of cheers and applause for a goal that showcased the skills and spirit of the Lyon captain.
A fleeting scowl crossed Alexia's face, frustrated at the missed opportunity.
Y/N turned on her heels as the net rippled, ready to embrace her teammates who were rushing to her.
''Vamos!'' She roared, the Spanish word escaping her lips like a battle cry.
Yet, she found herself face-to-face not with the familiar sight of Lyon jerseys but with the intensity of Alexia's determined gaze.
Her expression froze for a quick second, confusion adorning her features. Y/N's eyes widened in realization, and for a brief instant, the two captains locked eyes in an unspoken exchange.
The celebration continued around them, teammates engulfing Y/N as they screamed with delight at their captain's prolific opener. The air was filled with jubilation, but within the chaos, the tension lingered between the two captains, adding an intriguing layer to the unfolding drama on the pitch.
The match unfolded further, Barcelona grabbing a few opportunities of their own, but not being clinical enough to score an equalizer. The Spanish squad remained calm, showing no signs of panic in their play, despite being behind.
Selma and Melvine played a great one-two with each other, and the young defender shot a beautiful cross towards the box. Anticipating the trajectory of the ball, Y/N skillfully pulled away from Leon, who undoubtedly had the impossible task of marking the striker.
The ball connected with Y/N's forehead, falling perfectly into the mesh. The scoreboard illuminated with Lyon 2, Barcelona 0. The narrative had shifted as the favorites stomped the ground in frustration, while the ''underdogs'' celebrated another goal from their captain.
The first half flew by. Y/N managed to assist Catarina to make it 3-0, but Alexia found the back of the net to get one back.
3-1.
The second half saw more scoring opportunities for Barcelona, but no one managed to finish the job.
After contact with Martens, Griedge cited experiencing a cramp and asked for treatment- a request that the Barcelona side was not having. Y/N, understanding the frustration of time-wasting, especially when behind in a match, stood aside.
However, the Lyon captain didn't appreciate the scolding she received from the opposition's coach. ''Tell your player to stop the comedy, what a shit job!'' Jonatan exclaimed to the English captain, who observed the scene from the sideline.
Y/N didn't budge, paying him no attention, knowing it was all tactics. She gave an unimpressed look toward the referee, who had been observing the one-sided interaction.
The official ran up to them, pulling a yellow card from her pocket and holding it in front of the manager. ''Step back, please. Don't talk to the opposition.'' she instructed him.
The match eventually resumed. In extra time, Paredes almost managed to pull off a header, but it went flying over the post.
In the last minute of the game, Y/N teamed up with Eugénie to score a last-minute beauty, but the volley slammed against the post.
The piercing sound of the referee's whistle resonated through the stadium, marking the conclusion of the final. Lyon emerged triumphant for a record-extending 8th time.
Overwhelmed by her own emotions, Y/N fell to the ground as the whistle echoed in her ears. It didn't take too long for her teammates to rush up to her, colliding in a chaos of hugs, kisses, and jubilant shouts.
They had done it again, proving once more why all the records were tied to their name.
''Y/N, you're a fucking legend!'' Lindsey yelled in her ear, kissing her cheek multiple times.
As her teammates slowly got up from their celebratory cuddle with the ground, they formed a protective circle around their captain. Hands reached out to help her rise from the grass, and she found herself enveloped in a symphony of gratitude.
Eventually, she shook off her glorious daze, a wide grin etched on her face.
Y/N turned her attention to the defeated Barcelona players, spread out across the field with tears and disappointment staining their cheeks. She approached them, offering a helping hand to those still on the ground and sharing comforting words. Acknowledging the effort they had brought, she assured them that they gave her team a greater fight than the scoreline implied.
Before the Lyon squad embarked on their victory lap to greet the traveling supporters, Y/N's gaze fell on a heartbreaking scene. Across the field, the Spanish captain, Alexia, was cradled in a comforting embrace by a Barcelona staff member as tears streamed down her face.
Y/N hesitated, caught in a ''should I or shouldn't I'' moment with herself.
She chose to make an attempt to resolve whatever tension had built up between them.
Tears glistened on Alexia's cheeks, a testament to the intensity of the match and the dreams left unfulfilled. The Barcelona staff member, offering solace in the face of defeat, glanced up as Y/N approached, and let go of her.
''Alexia,'' Y/N greeted her softly, putting her arm around the Spaniard, ''thank you for the great battle.'' She hadn't prepared what to say, because what do you say against someone you feel like you are supposed to hate? What do you say against someone you've been constantly compared to for over a year?
To the striker's surprise, Alexia reciprocated, feeling an arm on her lower-back. ''Congratulations, you deserved the win. You played phenomenal.'' The midfielder told her, a forced yet genuine small smile making a way onto her face.
''Don't let this hurt you. You are literally one of the best players I have played against- your team is amazing. Use this, like in 2019.'' Y/N advised her, not particularly caring if the opposing player would take it or not.
''We will. I hope we can play many more finals. You make me- you make us grow.'' Alexia stuttered.
Y/N nodded. ''I hope so too. It's been fascinating to see the growth you guys have made these last years.''
The stadium now bore witness to a quieter exchange between the two captains. Almost every camera lens and watchful eye fixated on them.
As Y/N and Alexia exchanged words of mutual respect, their moment of shared understanding was abruptly disrupted by the Barcelona coach.
''Congratulations on the win, Y/N.'' He acknowledged briskly, his gaze quickly turning toward Alexia. His extended hand to her seemed more like a formality, but Y/N accepted it.
Almost forcibly, he placed a hand on Alexia's shoulder, a non-verbal cue that spoke volumes. ''Come on.'' He declared, his tone leaving little room for negotiation and they were off to wherever he needed her to be.
Alexia casted an immediate glance back at Y/N, a mix of emotions played across her face- gratitude for the moment, and frustration at its abrupt end. She hadn't responded to her words yet.
As the Spaniard was led away, Y/N's eyes lingered on the departing figure, a tinge of melancholy in her gaze.
The brief encounter had sparked a momentary connection- a bridge attempting to break through the perceived rivalry and show praise for a strong opponent. However, Jonatan's swift intervention acted like a pair of scissors, cutting through the threads that held that connection.
In Y/N's mind, Alexia had seemed appreciative of the opportunity to have a genuine conversation. She figured there must have been a good reason for her to have been pulled away like that, especially by the head coach.
The Barcelona captain had reacted with a hint of irritation when her coach suggested to the Lyon player to remove her arm from Alexia's shoulder. She tried asking Jonatan why he had coaxed her away, but she didn't receive a proper answer.
The whole thing had left a bitter taste in her mouth. The potential for a more extended, sincere exchange was cut short, leaving Alexia with lingering frustration. There was a desire to understand Y/N beyond the competition, but it was cut short.
She hoped her last glance had worked as a silent acknowledgment of what could have been.
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nexttopbadbitch · 4 months
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Bella Hadid at the Cannes Film Festival, July 2021
Zendaya at the Ballon D'or Awards, November 2021
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meazalykov · 3 days
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she was the golden girl
uswnt x (romantic) aitana bonmatí x (platonic) fridolina rolfo x uswnt!reader
what happened in a world where reader plays in the 2023 World Cup after winning the 2019 World Cup?
warnings: tiny bit of angst and sadness, google translated spanish.
part two (part one here)
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I remembered when I stood on the french pitch, surrounded by the deafening cheers of the crowd, sometimes I can’t believe that it happened. Tears welled up in my eyes as I hugged my best friend Mallory, threatening to spill over as a whirlwind of emotions flooded my mind. 
My hands trembled as I clutched the World Cup trophy tightly to my chest, feeling the weight of my team's triumph. The third goal in the world cup was scored by me, the youngest goalscorer in a Women’s World Cup final. The journey to this moment had been grueling, filled with sacrifices, sweat, and endless dedication. But looking back, all the pain and hardship were worth it.
Before the World Cup, the Champions League medal hung proudly around my neck, a testament to the skill and hard work I’ve displayed on the field. At the time, Lyon was the club of my life. I believed that I would’ve never left the french institution, extending my contract as much as I possibly could’ve. The memories of each game, each goal, each victory rushed back to me, overwhelming my senses.
And then there was the Ballon d'Or many months after both competitions, the ultimate recognition of my individual excellence. To be acknowledged as the best, only at the age of 19 years old, was a dream I had hardly dared to entertain. Yet there I was, being the second woman holding the prestigious award in my small hands, my name etched into football history forever as I stood beside Lionel Messi who received the men’s d’or. 
Surrounded by my teammates, coaches, and supporters, I felt a surge of gratitude and humility. This moment wasn't just about me; it was about the collective effort of everyone who had believed in my skills along the way. I will never forget it.
Four years later, It's 2023. I am 23 years old and still impressing the fans around the World. However, the scars of my ACL injury were still fresh, a constant reminder of the hurdles I had overcome to be here after the harsh 2022 year.
Playing for Lyon had once been a dream come true. I’ll never forget that experience. When I signed to Lyon from Portland Thorns at the age of 18, I was overwhelmed in joy. I needed that new challenge, and that challenge earned me the best awards, collectively and individually. But, the fallout from my December 2021 injury had left a bitter taste in my mouth. The club I had once called home had felt more like a distant memory as I felt forced to make the difficult decision to part ways and start a new life in the sunny Spanish city.
Now, I wore the red and blue Barcelona jersey onto the pitch. The transfer left me heartbroken, at first, now I felt a renewed sense of purpose. The road to recovery after my ACL injury in France had been long and arduous, filled with doubts and setbacks. Sometimes, I believed that my prime occurred at the age of 19, instead of the predicted 24-30 years old. Yet here I am, defying the odds once again to represent my country on the world stage in two months.
Sometimes the memories of my victories with Lyon and the United States lingered in the back of my mind, serving as both motivation and a reminder of what was at stake. The Champions League trophy I had lifted with Lyon and the World Cup I had claimed with the United States were testaments to my talent and resilience. But now, I lifted the Champions League trophy with Barcelona. 
After scoring the second goal of the final, with Patricia before me and Fridolina afterwards, the gold hung beautifully around my neck. It was my fourth time I've felt such a high amount of glory, but the happy tears still came as if it were the first. 
A month later, I am on a fourteen hour flight from Los Angeles to Wellington, New Zealand. As The plane soared through the clouds and I sat in my business class seat, my hands gripping the armrests tightly and my heart pounded in my chest.
“Y/n?” I took out my airpods when I heard the faint sound of my name coming from outside of them. I turned to my right and saw my teammate and captain, Lindsey, looking at me with a confusing look. 
“Hey.” I joked, pretending like my stress wasn’t visible for everyone to see. 
“Are you okay?” Lindsey asked. In my head, I debated on if I wanted to lie and say yes, just so I didn’t have to burden her with my stress. However, she’s known me for many years, the woman would notice my lie from miles away. 
“Not really. I’m just–a bit nervous.” I swallowed. The blonde girl nodded her head in understanding as she rested her arm beside mine. 
“That's understandable. Is it the competition that's bothering you? I mean– we are defending champions so we have a lot to prove.” Lindsey asked. I took a deep breath as my mind shifted to a particular person from my Barcelona team. 
“No– It's about–um.” I stopped speaking. I didn’t want her to cloud my head during the competition, as we both promised ourselves that we would play as rivals, not lovers. 
“Aitana?” Lindsey questioned, but yet finished what I would’ve said. I noticed my head as my face was plastered with sadness.
“yeah.” I mumbled. The Lyon midfielder looked at me with a questionable look, wondering if there were problems between the Spanish girl and I. 
“I mean– there's no problem between us. However we prioritize football first you know? we both agreed that during the competition, we wouldn’t talk much.. just so we can focus on this.” I ranted. I’m not stressed because of a possible match between Spain and the United States, I know that I’ll miss the shorter woman a lot. Also, what if we stop talking and a third factor might influence our relationship moving forward? 
“That's good that you’re prioritizing us– You shouldn’t feel nervous about your relationship because this will give you time to miss each other– things will go back to normal once the world cup is over.” Lindsey patted my shoulder in sympathy, I smirked as my nervousness started to subside. 
A month later, as I stepped up to the penalty spot, the weight of the world seemed to rest upon my shoulders. We finished the match against Sweden 0-0 and after extra time, we had to go into a penalty shootout. The stadium roared around me, a cacophony of cheers and chants from both sides echoing in my small ears. Nerves danced in my stomach, threatening to consume me with doubt and mistakes.
With a deep breath, My eyes focused on Zećira Mušović standing between me and the goal. She did great throughout the game and has the reflexes to stop my shot. Determination burned in my eyes, she saw it too. 
As I approached the ball with speed, the tension in the air was palpable but I couldn’t care. Every step felt like an eternity as my foot sent the ball soaring towards the goal. Mušović dove in desperation, but my ball went directly to the middle as she dove left. The ball crashed into the back of the net, eliciting a deafening roar from the crowd and from my teammates. 
My dimples on my cheeks showed as I am happy to make the penalty. Being substituted on the pitch after halftime, I tried my best to score but my shot on goal was overturned by VAR. Apparently, my body was offside. 
Now, my arms wrapped the bodies of Sophia Smith and Megan Raphinoe as I looked ahead at Kelley O’hara. My heart raced as I stared at her white colored cleats. She needed to score this, or else Sweden had the opportunity to win the knockout. 
She Missed. My heart dropped to my stomach as I looked at the Swedish players with rising confidence and opportunity. Hurtig took the shot and Alyssa blocked it over the line. This caused a debate among the crowd. Deep down, I knew Sweden made it. They’ve won. However, VAR was the only hope which would have proved me wrong. 
Unfortunately, I was right. Sweden emerged victorious in the penalty shootout, their celebration serving as a bitter reminder of the heartbreak that awaited my teammates and I. 
No, No, NO! I thought to myself as I felt the moisture in my eyes start to take place. Immediately, my mind did a flashback to the 2019 World Cup Final. Being 19 years old and happy as my small, yet muscular, arms held the heavy World Cup trophy. 
With a heavy heart, I broke away from my teammates and looked among the Americans in the stands. My shaky hands clapped to the fans in the stands, my facade of strength crumbling with each step she took. Cameras could capture my weak struggle to stay strong as the Swedish crowd rightfully celebrated. 
Turning around, walking back towards the Americans who were on the team, my knees collapsed on the grassy pitch, tears streamed down my tired face. This was the worst that the United States had completed in a World Cup. What went wrong? 
I wanted to stand up so badly, but I didn’t. Shame and Defeat took over my body which laid in the grass. What is my family in the crowd thinking? What are the USWNT fans thinking? What are my fans thinking?... my tears cried out more when I wondered what Aitana was thinking. 
After ten minutes of darkness in my eyes, covered by my hands. A comforting presence enveloped my body. I recognized the floral smell mixed with a tint of sweat. I looked up from my hands and saw Fridolina, my teammate from Barcelona and now my opponent who won the Round of 16. 
“You did so good, Don’t beat yourself up over this!” Fridolina spoke to me first as her thumbs wiped over my teary eyes. I felt comfort but a small amount of envy was inside of me, I wanted to win so badly. 
“Congratulations Frido.” The Swedish girl took her hands and helped me stand up as she gave me a tight hug. Aitana, Frido, and I are a trio back in Barcelona. In fact, she helped Aitana and I confess our feelings to each other. 
“Thank you! Just know that I am proud of you, she is proud of you too. Even if you aren’t proud of yourself.” The 29 year old said as my eyes stained her yellow covered shoulders. I knew she meant Aitana when she said “she”. However, I didn’t know where the Spanish woman was at the moment and what she was thinking. 
“Just go be-beat Japan. Okay?” I said through a crack in my voice. I found solace in the embrace of my friend. I might’ve lost but I am not a bitter person, now I want to see my club teammates have a good World Cup like I’ve once experienced.
As we exchanged jerseys, the voice in my head kept reassuring myself that I'll come back stronger than ever in 2027. 
Just a week later, most of my American teammates left Australia and went back home. However, my teammate Kristie and I decided to stay back. Kristies had a girlfriend who played on a different international team like I did, so we wanted to support them as they’re advancing to the semi-finals. 
Witnessing my Barcelona teammates play each other in the Spain vs Sweden match was intense. Standing beside Aitana’s parents, I wore a basic dark green t-shirt with 501 mid-thigh levi shorts. This is the first time I've met them as her girlfriend and they’re sweet people. We celebrated Spain’s win against Sweden and my heart would have exploded in happiness. My girlfriend will experience a World Cup final! 
On August 20th, after an intense match and a lovely goal from Olga Carmona, Spain won the World Cup! The feeling was bittersweet for me. I am happy for my girlfriend but subconsciously, I knew I wanted it to be me with the United States. However, I brushed that feeling aside since I needed to be happy for my lover. 
“Aitana ¡Estoy tan feliz por ti!” We both ran towards each other and hugged. I feel her lightly kiss the side of my head as I inhale her scent. Being able to feel her embrace after a month apart filled the small void in my heart.
“¡Esto es tan irreal, ahora sé cómo te sentiste hace tantos años!”  (This is so unreal, now I know how you felt all those years ago!) Aitana smiled. The smile on my face struggled to stay as a small frown, which I tried hard to conceal, plastered on my face for a quick second. I don’t think she noticed. 
“Lo siento por lo que ocurrió. En el fondo esperaba que fuéramos nosotros dos quienes nos enfrentaríamos en la final.” (I'm sorry for what happened. Deep down I hoped that it would be the two of us who would face each other in the final.) Aitana said as she understood my defeat in the Round of 16. 
“Aquí también. Sólo debes saber que todavía estoy muy feliz por ti, a pesar de mi derrota.” (Here too. Just know that I am still very happy for you, despite my defeat.) I said as I admired the goal medal that sat perfectly on Aitana's chest. She gave me a sympathetic smile before hugging me again. 
“¡Te amo!” Aitana whispered into my ear. 
“Te quiero más” I smiled back as I relaxed into her arms. 
<3
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batlleonafc · 8 months
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She’s a scab. She only cares about herself and what she can personally gain. She let her “friends” take the fall more than once now so she could get a world cup and continue to push that she’s the best player in the world when in reality she played like absolute dog shit and really that second ballon dor shouldn’t have gone to her in the 1st place. She’s just trying to stay relevant sorry that I’m giving you guys the truth 🤷‍♀️
Welcome to @handmeascalpel's ted talk, I'm your host @batlleonafc buckle up and enjoy the ride
Hello, anon. I've read everything you've mentioned. Do you have any evidence to support your claims? Considering that I'm reading this now, you don't. So, let me present the evidence I have. If you understand after this, great. If not, I can't stop people from forming their own opinions.
Exhibit A:
You said, "she only cares about herself and what she can personally gain."
On September 1, 2022, Alexia tweeted in support of Irene Paredes when the RFEF essentially blamed her for the players' opposition to the federation. Alexia was injured at the time and wasn't even in camp or eligible for a call-up. She was the first to tweet, sparking the revolution against the RFEF.
Ironically, on September 23 of the same year, exactly one year ago, Alexia was the first to post the Las15 statement, stating that the players wanted a "firm commitment for a professional project" and expressing their unhappiness that private conversations with the federation were leaked.
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Exhibit B:
You said, "she let her friends take the fall more than once so she could get a World Cup."
As I mentioned earlier, Alexia was injured and therefore ineligible for a call-up. So her statement and email were never considered valid.
Every statement has always been posted by her first because she has a large following. She has consistently spoken out loudly and clearly about the problems. She never let friends take any fall. More proof is attached below.
She went to the World Cup because she was fit and couldn't escape sanctions, in case you forgot about them. I'd like you to tell me how many players who came back from an ACL injury immediately played well, or maybe just give me some names.
#seacabo was started by Alexia, and she took the lead for everything. It's not hard to find this evidence. Regardless of what people like you want to say about her, both on and off the pitch, you can see what kind of person she is.
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Exhibit C:
You say, "that second Ballon d'Or shouldn't have gone to her in the first place."
Who do you think should have won it then? I'd be happy to hear your answer.
But since you brought up the Ballon d'Or, let me share a few things:
Official stats from the 2021/22 season:
La Liga Femenina:
- 26 games played.
- 18 goals scored.
- 16 assists.
Copa de la Reina:
- 4 games played.
- 4 goals scored.
- 1 assist.
Supercopa de España:
- 2 games played.
- 1 goal scored.
- 1 assist.
UEFA Women's Champions League (UWCL):
- 10 games played.
- 11 goals scored.
- 3 assists.
Regarding the Ballon d'Or voting, she only missed out on 29 days, equivalent to one tournament (the Euros). Nobody came close to her stats, and she's a midfielder. These stats are only for her club. Her national team stats are just as impressive, as she has been crucial in every single match, not just easy ones. She essentially surpassed her own record from the previous season when she won the Ballon d'Or. In short, she deserved it.
There's more to a player than just stats, especially for defenders. But the stats Alexia has as a midfielder are outstanding.
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Exhibit D:
Finally, you said, "she's just trying to stay relevant." Sorry to say, but she doesn't have to say anything to stay relevant.
She uses her influential platform to talk about what's true and important, unlike many players. Ramona Bachmann is a good example, and even Athenea, for that matter.
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I hope you've learned something today, anon. If not, good luck with your opinion of Alexia. You might just look foolish for hating on her.
Thank you for listening to @handmeascalpel's ted talk I hope you learned something today!
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pedripics · 5 months
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🌟 On this day, two years ago, Pedri won the Kopa Trophy 2021 🌟
He also finished 24th in the Ballon d'Or ranking.
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meowmeowmessi · 1 year
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gotta be honest my brother's making me warm up to muller a little..
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sportbarcelona · 1 year
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MESSI ENJOYS BALLON D’OR AWARDS
Messi has won the most Ballon d'Or awards, with a record seven accolades. He won his first Ballon d'Or in 2009, and then won it again in 2010, 2011, 2012, 2015, 2019, and 2021.
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cant-get-no-worse · 1 year
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I don't understand why Barcelona fans still are asking for Messi. It's a bit ridiculous, isn't it. He left the club, like any other player, it's what happens in transfers windows. He may be a legend but he is a player and therefore subject to be bought and to play for another club, fans should accept that rather than ask him while he's playing for another club.
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First, we are celebrating our title with our team - the current one, the 22 people and the staff that brought us this Liga. That's the main focus of today and the whole week.
But.
Make no mistake, this Liga is the result of a whole year of fighting from those 22 players and the staff, and they've been rightfully cheered on and showered by love from the fans. Nobody's claiming Messi won that Liga, we owe it to them. But it does not stand alone. For there to be light at the end of the tunnel, there needs to be a tunnel, and there need to be people who went through it. The 2022/2023 season is the final, bright peak of the mountain of hardships that were 2018/2019, 2019/2020, 2020/2021. It stands on top of individuals that have carried this team and took every single hit when everything - board, players - was failing. And that individual, whatever you think about it, however you want to put it, is Messi. From 2018 to 2021, the guy was alone. He broke his back trying to carry that team. He took the image hit and the pathetic trashings - the 4-0, the 8-2, despite not being his failures, have all been put to his name. The fight this team put on to win la Liga, we owe it to our current squad. But to remember where we come from, to remember the team that went through the tunnel, who was there while everything was fucking off, while celebrating our current achievements with this team, isn't disrespect towards anyone. It is merely respect towards everyone. That's precisely what this club is all about. Més que un club.
Now to answer the first ask, it's true that there have been calls for Messi throughout these past weeks — actually, since he left. I'm not going to talk about the practical reasons why his come back could serve the team, why it would not be only a political and financial move to have him back but an asset in our play too, that's another story. Rn I'm trying to explain why people are "calling for a player from another club" as you rightly put it. The reason is simple: it wasn't a simple move in a transfer window. The player didn't want to leave. It left a very bittersweet taste in everyone's mouth, a feeling of something unfinished, a hurried and unworthy ending not representative of the player's status, of what he gave the club, of his love for it nor the love the culés had for him. Being forced out of the club + the COVID situation preventing him from bidding a proper goodbye after twenty years to the public was a harsher blow than you could imagine.
I feel like a lot of people exterior to the club forget who he is for culés - and who is is, personally, for Argentinians, a whole other relationship - because of his international status. For the world, he is Messi. His very name is a brand (on which we capitalized, btw, we're no exception and the club remains a politic and financial institution), he is the superstar in the first sense of the term.
For culers, he is Messi as well, but not only. Just like Iniesta is Spain's idol while also being Barça's very own. Messi, like Andrés, Xavi, Carles, Geri, Bojan, Sergio — is from La Masia. Brought up in the spirit of the club. We saw him grow up. We saw him make his way through the C, the B, we saw him debut in the A, being taught by Dinho, Eto'o, Deco, Sylvinho. We saw him start to affirm himself in a failing team of 2006/2007, we saw him raising his Ballon d'Or at the Nou. We saw him want to leave, we saw him want to stay, we saw him play with club legends while forging his own, we saw him come back to us after every summer and international tournament with yet another failure and being torn apart by the press, we saw him run, sweat, kick, pull up comebacks, play his magic, carry a team, kiss the crest, taunt a crowd, all for Barcelona.
If you haven't experienced it, I cannot explain to you the joy and the utter pride it is to see him wear the Blaugrana colors and to have done so for the past fifteen years. I cannot explain to you the rush of emotions it is to see him kiss the crest of the club you love and to think he's ours. Before being the world's, because he is the world's, his name, influence and image go past clubs and countries, but before this, he was Argentina's, and he was ours. No player is ever above the institution (someone should tell PSG) and Leo Messi is not above FC Barcelona. But, like Xavi, Andrés, Carles, Cruyff, Guardiola, and countless others, he is at the heart of it.
So, that's why. Had he left on his own terms, like he wanted to in 2014, 2015 or 2020, fans would have an easier time accepting it because they'd know he was where he wanted to be. But it's been made very public how he wanted to stay, how finances forced him to leave and how, more recently, complicated and disrespectful his relationship with PSG had gotten. That's why some (not everyone, but I'd say a comfortable majority) people are asking for him. Now that he finished his love story with his country in the dreamiest way possible, they're calling for him to come home, and to properly finish his story with the club of his life.
Just because he is Messi, do not blame us for loving nor wanting to say a proper goodbye to Leo.
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not-so-rosyyy · 1 year
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I think the worst case of fake concern was people afraid of them ignoring each others existence during nwh press tour just because of the car pictures😂 Next thing you know they were at the Ballon d'Or for the first day of press posing each other like the power couple they are lmao
July 2021 - "omg they're going to be so awkward at the interviews!"
January 2022 - WATCH: TOM HOLLAND AND ZENDAYA FLIRTING FOR 1 HOUR STRAIGHT
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playerstories · 6 months
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story Cristiano Ronaldo
Story Cristiano Ronaldo:
Cristiano Ronaldo, the legendary Portuguese footballer, has a remarkable story. He was born on February 5, 1985, on the island of Madeira, Portugal. From a young age, he showed immense talent and dedication to the sport. Ronaldo's professional career began with Sporting CP in Portugal, and his exceptional skills quickly caught the attention of scouts. In 2003, he signed with Manchester United in the English Premier League, where he became a global superstar. During his time at Manchester United, he won three English Premier League titles and a UEFA Champions League trophy.In 2009, he made a high-profile move to Real Madrid for a then-world record transfer fee. At Real Madrid, he continued to shine, setting numerous records and becoming the club's all-time leading scorer. He won four Champions League titles with Real Madrid.In 2018, Ronaldo transferred to Juventus in Italy, where he continued to excel and win domestic titles. In August 2021, he returned to Manchester United, creating a sensation among football fans.Throughout his career, Cristiano Ronaldo has won multiple Ballon d'Or awards, recognizing him as one of the greatest footballers of all time. His work ethic, incredible goal-scoring ability, and versatility on the field have made him an icon in the world of football.
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realmadridfamily · 5 months
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Mishel Gerzig says that if she had the power to stop time, she would do it on her wedding day because she didn't want it to end. And no one can be surprised. The model became the wife of Thibaut Courtois, Real Madrid's goalkeeper, at the beginning of July last year in a fabulous wedding worthy of a fairy tale.
In fact, it took place at the Château de la Croix des Gardes in Cannes. Their wedding was full of emotions and magical moments, after the romantic proposal they made last year in Positano. While on vacation on the Tyrrhenian Sea, the Belgian athlete got down on one knee and gave his girlfriend a gorgeous engagement ring. But the real diamond in Courtois' life is Mishel, a stunning blonde beauty.
Fight for your dreams.
The model has been traveling around the world since the age of thirteen, appearing in campaigns and on the covers of prestigious fashion magazines. Intelligent and determined, at the age of 26, she knows what it means to fight to realize her dreams, because everything was not always rosy. “My mother received many offers to pose for me, but she was afraid to introduce me to this world, especially at such a young age. Finally, we decided together that we would try," Mishel recalls her beginnings in fashion, when, as a teenager, her parents took her to castings and photo sessions that lasted up to five hours.
“When I turned 16, I signed with modeling agencies in Miami and Milan, and my mother decided to quit her job to accompany me. My parents supported me very much and I will always be grateful to them," said Mishel, who realizes that, especially at this age, it is difficult to combine studies with her developing modeling career: "It was not easy at all. But my friends and teachers helped me so that I could continue my studies. I missed a lot of school trips and a lot of events, but I knew it was a necessary sacrifice to progress in my career, and I don't regret it.”
When she reached adulthood, she had to fight the monster of anxiety: “I wanted to give back to my parents everything they had given me. I started working hard, flying around the world, and something was wrong. One day, on the plane going to work, I started to feel short of breath, my vision was blurry, my heart was beating very fast and I couldn't feel my body. I thought I was having a heart attack, but actually I was having a panic attack. It was a very dark year in my life. With the support of family and friends, I was able to fight it and work on my mental health. I read and studied about panic attacks and learned to practice breathing and meditation. So every time I get one, I know how to recognize it, how to breathe deeply, and how to talk to myself: I remind myself that I am strong, that I am healthy, and that it will pass in time”.
"Physically and emotionally"
The strength and temperance she gained after seeing all things black served her well, especially in supporting her husband. Thibaut Courtois, considered one of the pillars of Real Madrid and one of the best athletes in the world - last year at the Ballon d'Or gala he was awarded the Yashin Trophy as the best goalkeeper of the 2021-22 season - was injured in training a few days before the start of La Liga. After the surgery, he is back in full shape, but his return to the pitch is still a long way off.
HOLA: Mishel, it will be difficult for Thibaut to be unable to play for so long. How are you supporting him emotionally?
MISHEL: The first month was very difficult, but I stayed positive and supported Thibaut physically and emotionally.
H: Four months have passed since your wedding, what is the most special memory you have from that day?
M: The ceremony and the “Yes, I Do” with Thibaut.
H: What funny or unforgettable anecdote would you share with our readers from your wedding?
M: The harmony that existed between everyone, between friends and family, and how much fun everyone was having. Happiness on this special day.
H: How is married life treating you? Have you noticed any changes since you became Courtois' wife?
M: In general, we feel the same. But we are both very happy and excited about this new chapter.
H: In this reportage you pose with Cartier pieces. Do you like to wear jewelry regularly?
M: Yes, I like to wear jewelry, but minimalist.
“An unforgettable look”
H: What are your favorites, the ones you usually wear the most?
M: Two necklaces I have, my wedding ring and sometimes a bracelet.
H: And when it comes to dazzling at a party, what are your favorite elements?
M: I think jewelry is very important to complete a memorable and iconic look. So I choose jewelry that matches my dress. But overall, I love special earrings and wearing multiple rings.
H: What is the most special piece of jewelry in your jewelry box that has the most sentimental value to you?
M: First of all, my wedding ring and engagement ring, as well as earrings and a bracelet that my mother gave me a few years ago.
H: What would you say is the jewel of your life?
M: The people in my life. My family and friends. The most valuable things in life are not the ones you can buy with money.
“My family lives far away”
H: Which of you, Thibaut or you, is more romantic?
M: I would say it's me. But Thibaut also has very romantic moments and loves to surprise me.
H: How do you surprise him?
M: With small things, daily, some romantic, others fun.
H: If you could stop time, at what point would you like to stop it?
M: On my wedding day, because we didn't want that day to ever end.
H: What if you had more time, how would you use it?
M: Seeing my friends and family more, because they live far away.
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