Starring:
Summary: Jasmine and Sharon meet during a game of soccer and get to know each other afterwards.
Date It Happened: September 12th, 2007
Dragons Vs. Rangers
A local soccer field at a NYC park.
It's a local game, between the Dragons and the Rangers, two random names picked by the goalkeepers of these two teams, in one of New York's parks. Sharon is playing for the Rangers, and got the position of forward, while Jasmine is a midfielder. It's a tight game, tied at 2 goals for each team, and they're in the final four minutes of play, with the ball being kicked in every which direction. Right now, the Dragons' defender has just attempted a quick pass to the team's midfielder, a young, twenty something year old guy, after the Rangers attempted and failed to score another goal. Sharon, for her part, is dashing quickly into position in the event that one of the midfielders is able to get the ball back and send it over towards them again.
And, indeed, the ball is freed from the grasp of the opposing team. Freed…highly away from the other team. And were Jasmine less of a football ("sorry, soccer," as she's had to say numerous times today) girl, she might not notice. But anyone familiar with Premier League teams would recognize the shirt the girl had on as Chelsea FC's newest away kit—she's a football girl. And as the ball comes back down to Earth, Jasmine happily takes it against her body, the ball dropping to the ground as she kicks it forward, charging down the field herself. The London native's accented voice screams "Cross in!" as she knocks the ball with her toe, sending it over the defender's head toward the goal, Jasmine only hoping her forwards are there to catch it.
Sharon has an old jersey from one of the Mexican teams on it, but it's so faded that it would be hard to tell just what team it's from. She hears the call and darts in to catch the ball, still moving quite swiftly for being so late in the game. She weaves around one defender, who tries to take her out with a nasty slide, before she approaches the goal. The woman charges hard towards the goal, appearing to be about to take a shot, only to spin around and make a pass to another one of the forwards. That forward immediately attempts a shot at the opposite side, upper corner of the goal in an attempt to put them in the lead, hoping he can put them up a point.
Jasmine's heart nearly breaks when she hears the ball slam into the pole…it had been such a beautiful set up, great placement, it would've taken an act of God for the cross not to lead to a goal. So when that clang happens, Jasmine just stares…until she notices something. It'd hit the crossbar…and fallen right into the goal. Laughing, she looks at the clock—less than a minute left, and they're up one. Surely they can hang onto the lead. As she jogs back to her side of midfield, she calls out, "Nice shot!"
Sharon hi-fives the fellow who made the shot, who yells back "Thanks!" to Jasmine as both forwards move forward. There's the kickoff from the center circle, but the Rangers' defenders are able to deflect the ball with a well-timed kick, sending it hurtling back towards midfield, back in Jasmine's general direction again, though one of the Dragons is charging hard towards the ball as well in a last-ditch effort.
Jasmine grins as she catches the ball against her chest, letting it fall to the ground before giving it a nifty little tap right between the legs of the charging defender. Ever the taunter, Jasmine can't help but tease, "Gotta have form, kid!" She makes with the Ronaldo-esque ball dancing, not really moving toward the goal so much as killing the clock. Those near by will hear her muttering about "Ronaldo always doing this crap," even as she does it herself.
A few of the random spectators who tend to watch these games start to cheer, and they start to count down the clock. "Five! Four!" The defender decides to try and get desperate, not appreciating that little Ronaldo attitude of Jasmine's, though Sharon looks quite amused, and he tries to slide in and take her out. hoping to get a desperating shot in, or to intercept the ball should he get called on a foul.
The desperate slide tackle isn't the best of tactics, but the arrogance in Jasmine's attitude comes back to bite her in the ass, as it usually does. The ball is knocked away…not far away, but away. And it's only because she jumps that the defender misses seriously jacking Jasmine up. As it stands, she hurdles the tackler and, with one last attempt, she spikes the ball as hard as she can toward the goal. She has to make her mark somehow.
"Three!" chants the crowd. Sharon dashes forward at the one defender who might get in the way and just leaps right in front of the defender who was getting in the way, who has to divert course from trying to intercept the ball. The goalkeeper wasn't expecting a score. "Two!" The goalie is leaping for it. "One!" And the ball just squeaks past the goalie and into the next as the buzzer expires. "Nice capper!" Sharon calls to Jasmine as she jogs over towards the woman.
Jasmine grins a little bit, mimicking the famous World Cup picture when Brandi Chastain scored the winning PK for hte US, pulling her jersey up over her head and sliding down onto her legs, arms pumping. She can't help but fall over laughing, getting back to her feet and pulling her shirt back on, "No'bad shot yaself. Ya play, or jist fer fun?" She grins a little bit, taking a minute to hug the familiar faces on the other team, including the goalie who ate two goals at least in part from Jasmine's foot in the last 5 minutes.
"Not formally, really," Sharon responds. "Not bad at all yourself either," she adds before they go to shake hands with the other team. "Haven't really gotten a chance to try out for the local clubs; always miss the deadline," she explains to the woman. "You?" she asks. "Name's Sharon, by the way," she adds, grabbing one of the bottled waters from the cooler and offering it towards Jasmine.
Jasmine grins a little bit, grabbing the offered bottle and taking a swig, "Mm…I play when I kin. Not as big 'ere as back 'home, sa I make due with what I kin find." She rolls her neck out a little bit, "The local club's not worth joinin' anyway…not 'less ya fancy some bottom flight football with some guhls prone ta bruisin' ya legs. Look fer the picky teams; they're the ones worth playin' fer."
"Don't much care for that myself," Sharon replies as she stretches her legs out a little bit while she talks. "Mostly just do pick-up games like this, though it can get tricky at times. Not to mention that there's only a few more months left until the great white blanket buries our city". A shrug is given to that. "Wish I had time to play more though. But, only so much daylight, and a girl has to earn her monthly rent payments".
Jasmine chuckles and nods, "Mm…wanted ta play fer Chelsea back 'ome, but I nevuh got a chance ta tryout." She smirks a little bit, shoulders sagging a little at that as though that were the ultimate disappointment to her, "Still 'ope to a'some point…but fer now, I'm stickin' t'school and m'job. Keeps me close ta the game, even when I can't play."
"Have to admit the football tradition isn't so strong around the States, unless you count the one where you throw the ball more than you kick it, though I'd certainly not mind having a go at a Major League team here. Hard to put the hours into practice with work and school though, too," Sharon says. "What're you going to school for, if I can ask?" the woman says, coming out of her stretch. "Majored in athletic training and biology myself".
A snort comes from the London native who just shakes her head, "'snot football, luv. They jist like t'call it football." She grins a little bit, shrugging and starting a bit of a cool down stretch herself, "Th' professional team 'ere isn't bad. N'like DC United or nothin', but not bad themselves." She stops and thinks, grinning, "Not shuh what Red Bull's interest in football is, but t'each they own, I guess." At the question about her schooling, though, she grins, "Physical the'apist. 'elp with a clinic in 'ell's Kitchen. Strange place, that…call it Chelsea 's well…"
"Not so different in the schooling then. I train them up, you fix them up if they go and get hurt," Sharon says to the woman. "Oh, true enough about that. Football requires a bit of agility, not just bashing into each other while wearing body armor". Sometimes she wonders how those men get hurt with the sheer amount of padding they wear. "Probably share a few clients, knowing the tendencies of a few of mine to get themselves into scrapes".
Jasmine chuckles quietly and shrugs, "Wouldn' be suhprised. Tend t'specialize in leg injuries m'self, jist cuz I'm a footbal guhl through'n'through." She grins a little bit, shrugging briefly, "One o' the few I met in the States calls it football…ya from anothuh place, or just undahstand wha' real football is?"
"Just know what it is. Come from Denver myself. Mostly got the American football team there, but I spent most of my time mountain climbing. Meet a lot of people from a lot of places who climb the Rockies, and you pick up on culture quick". Sharon shrugs at that. "Just actually know what most people in the world call it. Just Americans who got confused and named it wrong is all".
Jasmine nods a little bit, chuckling. She finishes up her quick stretch, then takes a seat beside her bag, "Can't figure why they called it football…ya nevuh use yer feet, 'cept when yer settlin' fer fewer points…" She stops and thinks, "An' why's the scorin' in that game s'strange?" Yeah…she's not a fan of American football.
"Americans like overly complicated rules and points systems, and guys have an obsession with big numbers. Ever seen them get into their bench press one-upsmanship in a gym before?" Sharon asks with a laugh as she takes a seat on the bench, only now reaching into her bag and taking out her gym towel.
Jasmine laughs a little nodding, "Ah, yes…who's more macho. Always fun t'watch. And laugh at." She grins a little swigging back her water again before starting to remove her cleats, "Jist realized; I'm Jasmine." She extends a hand over, flashing a little grin.
Sharon takes the hand. "Sharon Hawkers," she says. "Though speaking of, I actually have a client in 40 minutes or so. So I should head back over to Power House so I'm not late," she says, grabbing her stuff casually. Power House being the name of the generic gym she trains at. "Give me a shout if you hear of anyone else we have to teach the meaning of football to," she says, tilting her head in the direction of the field. "Don't have a pen handy, but they can reach me at the gym".
Jasmine chuckles quietly, nodding, "Definitely." She grins a little bit, "I'll look it up. Thanks." She leans her head back a little, bracing herself on her arms and just relaxing for a bit, her eyes closing slowly.
Sharon heads on off for the gym once she's changed out of her cleats and into street shoes, stuffing everything else back in her bag. Can't be late!