Chapter Text
“Now boarding for flight 324, Albuquerque to London. We would now like to pre-board passengers requiring special assistance and families with young children.”
Carol Sturka was no newbie to airports. Matter of fact, she could recall a time not so long ago when she was in one at least once a week, traveling stateside to somewhere abroad and vice versa. She had professional soccer to thank for that. She supposed she had professional soccer to thank for this flight to, although under a little different circumstance.
“We’d like to invite our first-class, Delta Airlines elite, and premium cardholders to board at this time.”
Finally. She thought to herself. Sitting next to the window overlooking the tarmac, under the hot and dry New Mexico sun was not ideal, but alas that is where Koumba had dropped his backpack, leaving Carol in a hurry to find the nearest restroom. Just as Carol stood up to adjust her sweatshirt, put her backpack on, and double check she had her boarding pass loaded onto her phone, Koumba came flying around the corner, out of breath, “I’m here, I’m here.”
”Perfect timing. They just called our group to board. Stomach settled and ready to go?” Carol asked with genuine concern, as she could see small beads of sweat in his hairline and the color not yet fully returned to his face.
Koumba winced as he reached past her to grab his own bag, “Ready as I’ll ever be. Please don’t ever let me drink that much ever again.”
Carol couldn’t help the belly laugh that escaped her, “hey man, nobody told you to drink 6 Guinness beers in under 30 minutes to, as you said, prepare for this lifestyle change.”
”Yeah, yeah, but you didn’t exactly stop me either,” he finished with an eye roll. With a soft punch to the shoulder and a smirk on her lips, Carol trotted past Koumba and led them to the gate agent. As she waited for her ticket to be scanned, she glanced around the seating area and gathered that this probably wouldn’t be a full plane. Even better. She thought to herself. She needed some quiet time in the air to rethink, again for the one hundredth time, what she had gotten herself into that landed her on said plane to begin with.
*
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our cruising altitude and have turned off the seatbelt sign. You may now move about the cabin.”
“Ah, it feels nice being up here in first-class. There’s actually enough room to stretch my legs.” Koumba commented to nobody in particular. Carol had been zoned out on the clouds for a couple of minutes now, AirPods in both ears. No music was actually playing, she just wanted to be left alone with her thoughts, to try and settle any remaining anxieties she had before she stepped off this plane a retired USWNT midfielder and into her new role as head coach for the abysmal Tottenham Hotspur Women.
Head Coach. That still sounded crazy in her head. Sure, Carol had her fair share of coaching under her belt. Between summer camps the national team would run for youth programs, and trainings she would lead herself back in her hometown of Albuquerque, she actually had years of coaching experience. As far as grown, adult women who have their own ways of doing things and opinions, she was not so sure her experience would transfer.
”You know,” Koumba chuckled, “I can hear you spiraling all the way from over here.” He was met with an eye roll and scoff. When he realized Carol did not find him amusing, he dropped to a hushed tone and pushed closer to her on the armrest. “Hey. Talk to me coach. How can I help?”
Carol looked at him momentarily, contemplating on brushing him off or being more honest than she really felt like being. He was the closest thing she had to a best friend, and he was going to be her assistant coach. If she wanted this venture to go well, she at least owed it to him to be open from the get go. “I just… I don’t know… I just have these really high expectations for myself, for us as a coaching staff, for this team, and I don’t know if I’m really qualified to be doing all of this. There are so many other people that would have been more than qualified for this job, you know? What if we get there and we aren’t able to turn the ship around? What if they don’t take me seriously, or what if they hate me…” Carol was rambling now, she knew that, but she couldn’t make herself stop.
“Carol, can I say something?” Koumba politely interrupted with a hand on her shoulder. Carol nodded and took a breath, ready to dismiss whatever he had to say, as she already had her mind made up on things not working out. “I get what you are saying. I do. I won’t lie to you and tell you I haven’t been feeling the same way about you choosing me for your assistant coach. Here’s the parts you are missing though… You are the most qualified person for this job. You led your team to Olympic Gold four times, World Cup Gold another four times, and you are on track to be inducted into the hall of fame within the next two years. Your fans absolutely adore you. You have the game figured out, people listen when you speak, I mean come on Carol, you are quite literally the greatest of all time for this generation. I can’t think of anyone more deserving than you.”
Carol sighed, Koumba was right. Surely if she could accomplish all of those things, turning a hapless team under new management into a dominant team in the league would not be a problem.
Carol tapped his hand with hers and gave him a small “Thanks, coach.” Koumba nodded once, then turned towards the aisle to receive the two drinks from the stewardess he had ordered for them when she was lost in thought.
“Cheers,” Carol said with a soft smile, raising her glass towards Koumba. He met her in the middle with a clink, a wink, and then she was left alone again for the remainder of the flight.
*
Carol was lost after baggage claim. Typically she would grab her bags and follow her teammates onto a charter bus that would then take them to their hotel surrounded by security. This time, she followed Koumba’s lead through the crowd and out the doors towards the taxi pickup zone. She was pleasantly surprised to see a gentleman with sunglasses on, casually leaning against a blacked out Escalade holding a sign that said her name in big, bold letters.
Once he recognized who was approaching, his posture straightened and he eagerly stuck his hand out. “Coach Sturka, it’s a pleasure to drive you today. My daughters and I are huge fans of yours. My name is Danny,” he finished with a wide smile. Carol met his handshake with her own firm grasp and smiled politely back. “It’s nice to meet you Danny. Glad to hear you’re a fan.”
While he and Koumba exchanged pleasantries and loaded their luggage into the trunk, she took the time to check her phone.
3 missed calls.
”She’s blowing you up, isn’t she?” Koumba asked with a small undertone of annoyance as he climbed into the backseat next to Carol. She shook her head and showed him the screen. “I don’t know what else she wants from me. She’s the one who broke things off.”
Koumba looked at her with pity. “Oh to have an ex, who happens to be a hot model, come crawling back. You poor, tortured human being. I envy you, I really do.” Carol rolled her eyes and decided that would be something to deal with later. All she wanted to do right now was get to their hotel, take a hot shower, and have a drink. “Anyways,” she trailed off as she looked towards the now occupied driver’s seat, “Danny how long of a drive is it to the hotel?”
“Dependent on traffic, but I would guess about 20 minutes, Coach,” he replied while briefly looking back in the rearview mirror.
“Perfect. Do you have any recommendations for dinner? I’m not picky, but seafood is a no go. Also, preferably a place with a bar.” Carol asked.
“Well there is this pub that’s actually across the street from the hotel, but I will warn you it is heavily frequented by Hotspur fans. You might not get much privacy in there.” With that Koumba’s eyebrows shot up as he looked at Carol. “We should definitely go,” he excitedly whispered. She pretended to ponder it for only a minute before agreeing. It wouldn’t hurt to make acquaintances with some fans of the team, and she wasn’t trying to walk forever to find food once she cleaned up from the day of travel.
*
Her stomach is practically whining once she is taking the elevator to meet Koumba in the hotel lobby for dinner. She can’t wait to get her hands on food and a big glass of beer. The door to the elevator opens and she’s greeted by a buzzing hotel lobby and a very excited Koumba, who is standing right in front of her talking to what she presumes are fans of the team.
As if on cue, he turned around to find Carol walking out to the elevator. “Carol! Perfect timing. These young ladies were wondering if they’d be able to get a picture with you before we head off to dinner,” and although she was starving, she was not one to turn down fan requests. “Okay, yeah sure,” she replied with a half-hearted smile. As she moved out of the entrance of the elevator and off to the side, the girls followed her and gathered to her sides. One had handed a phone to Koumba, who smiled widely behind it as he directed the photo.
“Go Hotspurs on 3! 1..2..3!”
Carol smiled like she had done thousands of times before, letting the girls squeal as they inspected the result. She used that moment to slip out of the door and head across the street, walking slowly to ensure Koumba had time to catch up and not trip on the cobblestone road that was barely lit for this time of night. Nonetheless, he caught up mere seconds later, out of breath like he was a part of One Direction running from a mob of teenage girls. “Wow, I know you are well known, but I wasn’t expecting to be hounded down the very first night like that,” Koumba said in slight disbelief.
Carol was too focused on food to even acknowledge the comment. She knew she had fans across the globe, but she too had not expected it to be like that so quickly. She also knew that if she did not eat in the next ten minutes she was going to get very cranky, very fast. So with that, she picked up her pace and marched right into the recommended pub and requested a table for two. Luckily, it was not packed and the waitress seemed to pick up on the vibe that Carol didn’t want to be bothered, so she placed them at a booth a ways in the back. It didn’t take long for two beers to appear on the table in front of them, and for the waitress to take their orders. Carol took a long sip, placed her glass on the table, and let go a sigh of relief. Finally, she could just sit down and adjust to her surroundings.
“What time are we heading to the facility tomorrow?” Koumba asked as he glanced around the pub.
Carol grabbed her phone and tried to find the email she had gotten when they landed from their new boss, the owner of the lady spurs, Laximi Smythe. She had known Laximi for years, as they had played together when Carol first came onto the soccer scene. Laximi was older than Carol, and had recently divorced from her husband who was forced to give her ownership of the team due to the legal ties in their prenup. This was one of the reasons Carol put in for the job. She’d get to be close to an old teammate, and hopefully help her turn the team around to rub it in her ex-husband’s face. A girl’s girl, if you will.
“10am. Once we get our fo- oh thank god. This looks delicious, thank you,” Carol praised as their food was placed down in front of them. She was practically drooling as she stuffed a handful of fries into her mouth, and looked down at her plate to plan on where she was going to bite her burger. Koumba watched in amusement, as he has never seen her eat like that. Carol could feel his eyes on here, so she looked up with a cocked eyebrow, and only then did he understand the severity of the hunger that had consumed his friend.
They finished their food and beer in silence, paid the tab, then walked back to the hotel. Carol was thankful there was no ambush of fans this time, as she was just ready to fall into bed and go to sleep. She and Koumba parted ways on the 5th floor, and once in her room Carol flopped onto her bed and fell asleep thinking about what awaited her the next day.
22 women. 1 team. 1 shared goal. Win the league.