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As he sits there and contemplates, he wonders who to call.
He should probably call his wife but she’s so busy looking after their kids, he could call Virgil but he was preparing for Messi, he could call Jordan but he was preparing for France. He feels like a burden, he feels like a weight that needs to be carried around and he hates it.
He’s on the roof of the hotel, looking out over the beautiful city below him. He doesn’t want to talk but he knows that he’ll combust if he doesn’t.
Finally he calls the man that he calls when he has no one else to call.
Jurgen doesn’t pick up and he feels defeated. Jurgen’s meant to catch him when he falls, pull him up when he’s sinking.
He looks out on the city, fighting the tears coming to his eyes. Suddenly he’s back out on the pitch, he can see his teammates' tears and his coaches' tears. The shames back too, he has that same urge to apologise but it’s stronger now.
The shouting is back and it’s loud, it’s so loud that he almost doesn’t hear his phone ringing again. He answers it without looking.
“Hello? Sorry Ali, I couldn’t find my phone. I could hear it ringing but couldn’t find it anywhere. Anyway, What’s wrong?”
“Did you see the game?” He asks, listening as Jurgen shuts his door and sits down.
There’s silence and he can picture Jurgen hesitating, trying to find the right words to not offend him. “Yes.”
“I feel so guilty.” He whispers, that feeling at the back of his throat telling him that he needed to cry.
“Why? It’s not your fault.”
“Yes it is, I should’ve saved a penalty. I shouldn’t have conceded the equaliser. It’s all my fault.” He breaks off into a sob.
“Alisson, you are suffering from being the best. You have set the standards so high for not only the world but for yourself. People expect you to be fantastic so when you have an off day then they attack you for it. You didn’t even really have an off day, it was a deflection off the defender that put you on the back foot.”
Alisson is weeping silently. “Penalties are a lottery. The goalies are not expected to save any, the perfect penalty is unsavable anyway. You can’t blame yourself for the fact that Marquinhos missed, that Rodyrgo’s was saved.” His voice is soothing, Alisson can feel his crying start to cease.
“If… If I saved one then it could have been better. Could have been different.” He chokes the words out and Jurgen wants to wrap his arms around him.
“Croatia haven’t lost a penalty shootout since 1998. Football is a truly beautiful sport but sometimes it’s simply not meant to be.” Alisson leans back against his seat, looking out over the city.
“I really need a hug.” Jurgen smiles, pulling his legs up underneath him.
“I will give you one when you come back to Liverpool.” Alisson smiles. “Now, you get your week's holiday that I promised everyone. Are you going back to Brazil?”
“Probably yes. Natalia is already there with the kids, we’re flying home tomorrow.” Another tear escapes his eyes.
“Don’t think about football, you need to disconnect and not think for a bit. That’s the best thing that I can say, spend time with your kids and your wife. Don’t blame yourself for anything, you did everything that you could. It just wasn’t meant to be.”
“It’s starting to feel like it’s never meant to be. We lost the Copa America final to Argentina, knocked out by Croatia.”
“Sometimes it is just not meant to be. Brazil is one of the biggest footballing nations in the world, glory will return to it soon. You just need to switch off for a while.”
Alisson wipes his eyes, “Thank you Jurgen. I didn’t know who else to call, I didn’t want to bother Natalia or Virgil.”
“Why did you not want to bother your wife? I imagine she hates the idea of you suffering alone. You signed up to suffer together, I would hate the idea of Ulla struggling with something she wouldn’t tell me about and I’m sure you would hate the feeling of not being able to help too. I’m sure that she would love to talk to you.”
“She’s so busy…”
“Not too busy to help you.” Jurgen says, his tone final. “You should talk to her, enjoy your holiday and switch off for a while. You deserve it.”
Alisson smiles against his will. “Thanks Boss. You're the best.”
“Thank you, you’re the best too so don’t worry about this. I’ll give you that hug when you come back to Liverpool.” Alisson smiled before ending the call.
When he didn’t know who to call, Jurgen was there. When he needed someone, Jurgen was there. Jurgen had always been there and Alisson smiled at the realisation he probably always will be too.