This Girl Can

by Zara Hayworth

She sat nervously waiting for her coaches pre match team talk, heart pounding as fast as the metal studs which clicked the cold, concreate floor. Never before had she been in a dressing room so extravagant, the three lions proudly displayed on the HOME TEAM door and the sports performance car seats with heated bottoms. A far cry from the bare, stale smelling changing rooms at her childhood club where you would be lucky to get a lock on the toilet door.

Hidden among the glitz and glamour of press calls, Nike and Adidas sponsor interviews was a white shirt hung proudly, displaying her number........3. She had never been the tallest or noisiest but she had always been the feistiest, willing to go the extra 10% when the team were feeling low.

Her dreams all those years ago were about to become a reality, through hard work and determination - no luck required!

It was the Women's World Cup Final. England vs Germany, a matter of national pride and a place in the history books, not to mention the shiniest, most exquisite trophy that she had ever seen.

With her thoughts wandering like rain jumping from cloud to cloud in the sky, she remembered her 1st female coach who she knew would be sat in the stands, face painted in patriotic red and white chanting her name and singing their beloved national anthem as the teams emerged onto the Wembley turf.

Adelle was formidable, opinionated and passionate but she had the softest of cores, Adelle gave her the confidence to go out into the world and play her way. This had won her world wide praise and made her an indispensable part of both her club and country teams.

Time and time again she was told 'little girls don't play football, how about ballet or gymnastics?' time and time again she ignored her doubters. Her passion was sport, her passion was the beautiful game!

Coach stepped in and the room fell silent, suddenly from all the madness you would have been able to hear a pin drop.

team talks in Finals have a habit of being over run with emotions but this one was clear and precise. Press the Germans high and don't allow them to pass the ball. Sounds Simple.

With the ladies ready and willing, she emerged from the shadows of her thoughts, placed her shirt over her head and let out the longest, deepest breath. Boots laced as perfectly as always, hair pulled back into a neat pony. It was time to feel the stadium roar around them, packed with flags, banners and happy families ready to enjoy a spectacle that only a few years ago would never have happened.

She had made it, She had arrived!