Work Text:
You stayed around for them. For the friends you made. For the memories. For the sake of all the good times you had because you knew there would be more.
They are your teammates, they are your friends but they are also your rivals. And you admire them so, so much. The amount of work they put in is nauseating. You’ve been with them long enough to know how they feel from just a good morning.
Somewhere along the way, you started losing sight of your goal. They all blended in. Turning pro. Winning championships. Winning matches. Staying with them, just for a little bit longer. Watch them shine and wear the jersey proudly. Do your job on the pitch so you’re worthy of calling them your teammates.
But here’s something you can’t do for long: pretend. At this level, you have to be consistent. You need the drive. It’s all-consuming, the race to become a professional football player. It’s not something you can half-ass. It’s not something you can keep up if your heart isn’t 100% on the pitch.
Doing it for your teammates can get you to the next match.
It can’t get you through the whole season.
It can’t get you to turn pro.
You get injured, you face setbacks after setbacks and one day you just wonder what is the point.
You hold your resignation letter in your shaking hands. You’re not afraid of walking away from the club; this is your decision and it’s the right thing to do. But you’re afraid of your teammates’ reaction.
If you held on, it was only for them.
You always did it for them.
Last year, you went through it all.
It was only for them.
The last training sessions.
You held on for them.
But you’re tired. You’re exhausted. You know you can’t go on like this.
If others want your spot more, you’ll let them have a shot.
If others can give the team the push it needs, you’ll step aside.
If others can bring what you can’t to the team, you’ll gladly resign and walk away.
Everything you did, it was always for the team.
It doesn't make it any less bittersweet.