The Unconsoled - HITTER
April 29, 2010
He sits apart, away from them, with their usual preparations, getting undressed, getting dressed, away from his usual cube block, from his locker. He wants to be left alone. Alone with the ache that is torturing his whole system: body, mind, soul.
He wants to be away from them, so they wouldn’t see the tear stains on his face, nor the dark rings under his usually cheery and well-rested eyes. He doesn’t want them to know he’s cried since the moment he got home, endless streams of tears, way too much for a boy, for a boy his age and his profession, that he cried for hours until his mum convinced him to take a mild sedative.
So he could sleep.
He couldn’t tell her that once he closed his eyes, he’d see it, the 3 yards miss, over and over again in front of him, as it someone had made a .gif out of the moment and it was being played on the backdrop of the back of his eyelids.
But he had training the next day, his mother had said, and an entire lifetime to score goals, years of showing his quality, and even if her comforting words did not reassure him in any way, nor did it make him feel remotely better, he had to pretend he understood and accepted the pill, and closed his eyes and fought the torment silently and eventually, sleep took over him.
He needs to stay away from them, as they would probably tell him the same, that he shouldn’t be blamed, he shouldn’t feel guilty, that he is too young to be held responsible. But damn it, all their words could not erase the image creeping up on him, nor would they make him feel less ashamed.
He hopes they’ll leave him alone, at least for a few days, because while everything became an uncertainty now, one thing is sure, one kind word from any of his teammates would unleash the tear fury inside of him and he doesn’t want to crumble in front of them, thus proving he is just a little boy, unable to cope with a loss.
For him it’s not a loss though, it’s the loss. Simply put, it was his biggest mistake so far and he wants to be judged for it, not pardoned because he’s the youngest. In a way, he’s savouring the solitude, the guilt, the pain, in a weird, secret way, and he wants to be left to do it.
Xavi watches Bojan sit far away from the crowd. He feels he has to offer him, if not sympathy, if not absolution, at least a kind word, to let him know they all share his pain and that it will get better in time.
He breaks from his routine and strides towards the striker. Xavi has to build up the courage and tell him what Bojan needs to hear and what Xavi himself needs to let out.
“Bojan, why are you sitting by yourself?”
A leave me alone look is all he gets, and no answer, as Bojan quickly glances back at his feet.
“As your captain last night, I failed you.” he utters, more to himself than for Bojan’s years but the boy hears him, obviously, as he finally looks up.
Xavi’s stunned. Bojan’s green eyes look dead, the sadness in them overwhelming him. He’s very close to bursting into tears himself, seeing the youngster so distressed.
“I was supposed to lead you to a victory…”
“Save it. No disrespect, Xavi. But it was my miss that cost us. MY miss. MINE.” He almost yells, his voice coarse from all the sobbing.
Xavi is tempted to just leave, it’s obvious that Bojan is in no mood to be cheered up. Another thought courses his mind though and he pats his teammate’s shoulder, calling him to attention once again.
“You know what, you’re right. Your miss cost us the qualification, possibly.”
Bojan’s eyes widen with grief and horror. Xavi ignores the distress he was causing and continues.
“Hold on to that thought and never let it go, remember it for the rest of your career, cherish it, if you will, and make that miss your fuel to greatness. I know you’ve been quite out of favour these past 2 seasons and missing that easy goal is definitely not helping your cause, but I believe in you. I think you can learn from your mistakes and achieve whatever you want. So take this as your kick in the rear that helps you move forward.”
He stops to ascertain that Bojan is getting the message. He gently lifts his face by the chin, so they look into each other’s eyes. By the relieved look on the youngster’s face, his words had sunk in.
“Dive into the pain and let the tears roll and let it wash over you and strengthen you. This is the only way you can conquer it and make good use of it.”
Staring in Xavi’s brown eyes, Bojan nods and for the first time since the fated moment, he doesn’t feel horrible anymore.
It’ll take him longer to get over it, of course, but now he knows how to handle the ache and the hole in his heart is beginning to heal.