Fandom: German National team
Disclaimer: I still don't know people mentioned in this story and I still hope it isn't true. The plot is still only my fantasy
Summary: After Wales match, Loew's POV
Author's notes, previous chapters and music here
Timeline for the series is here
We’ve won. I should be glad that we’ve won.
Maybe for the first time in my life I think that I couldn’t care less. Just what does it matter if we’ve won or lost or even drew the match? What does it matter?
Just the way a coach of National Team should be thinking.
I don’t recognize myself these days.
“I’ve told you already, no phones in the locker room”. Is it really my voice? Brisk and impatient, I rarely speak like that…
Miro looks a bit surprised, a bit hurt, when he lifts his head.
“It was Jürgen, he just called to congratulate me”. He always speaks so quietly, in measured tones.
So Jürgen called. So Jürgen has no time to call me but always has time for players.
“No phones in the locker room, and I hope there will be no more need for me to repeat myself”. And if he thought that Jürgen’s name will placate me, it was his mistake.
I didn’t want to spoil Miro’s mood. I don’t want players to look at me with silent reproach. As if my orders are unexplainable. As if I should tolerate it if someone decides to disobey.
Bierhoff catches me by the arm in the corridor. His face is… Worried? What…
“Jogi…” He’s speaking quietly and very quickly, putting all the force in his words. “If you have… problems in your personal life, taking them off on people around you won’t help. And it won’t do you any good”. He looks at me intently as if checking if I understand what he means.
Oh yes, I understand.
Trying to teach me how to live, are you, Olli? I’ve still had no time to thank you properly for the whole
“Mind your own business, Olli”, and if he says one more word, I swear… “And let me deal with my, as you put it, problems myself”.
In the silence that follows the melody from my pocket seems to be louder than ever.
“It’s Jürgen”, says Olli more to himself than to me, he knows perfectly well the melody I set for Jürgen’s number.
Finally remembered that you should have called me after the match, did you, Jürgen?
Well, he may be calling the whole night long. I have more interesting things to do than talking to him.
“Mind your own business, Olli”. And I wish to know how many times should I repeat my words before they are finally understood.
Damn it all.