A Sweet, Sweet Defeat

Hey there. For those few of you who don’t already know me, I’m Liam Dean, the best and brightest among sports journalists here at Eastfield, a top class college for all athletic pursuits.

People often speak about me for my good looks, my short brown hair, strong and tall build, or my smooth and deep voice, but I prefer praise for my accomplishments. It’s not often that you become a professional able to work with top athletes at the college you are currently attending after all. Not to mention my numerous front page articles, viral headlines, and revolutionary interviews.

I’d recently moved into an apartment nearby ahead of my third year, deciding a more private space within driving distance would do wonders for the creativity that I rely upon.

On one particular day in the late stages of our first term, I happened to stumble upon a big opportunity from an unlikely source, the girl’s soccer team. On that day I had two options to attend. The first of which was a struggling men’s lacrosse team, whose unattractive style of play and lack of star quality left much to be desired. However the second option was a girl’s soccer team who dominated the nation, led by their captain, striker Ria Klein, a stunning beauty whose looks are matched only by her play. Sleek black hair, piercing green eyes, a quiet yet confident voice, and an aura that screams, “I would be the best no matter what I did.”

I’d had the honor of interviewing her on a few occasions prior, due to her standout performances in her first two years at the school, but with the start of her third year here, she’d been assigned as the captain and has elevated her appeal even further. A piece about her dominant rise to stardom after she leads her team to beat their undefeated rivals and claim the #1 seed? Now that’s what I was after.

The day passed with agonizing slowness as I reviewed the matchup, needing to organize all the facts I could ahead of time. 15-2, that was the record between our Eastfield and their bitter rivals in the past 10 years. About as one sided as a rivalry could get between two strong teams. Despite the opponents’ undefeated record and supposed strength, there was no world where we would lose. Yet as the professional I am, I of course prepared for the potential outcome. It’s my job after all.

Preparations ready and clock finally having moved far enough, I watched a sweet, sweet defeat. Our Eastfield, one of the biggest and most successful branches of our college’s academics program, got absolutely and thoroughly destroyed 7-0 in one of the longest and most excruciating games in the team’s long history.

The away fans’ cheers filled an all but empty stadium come full-time, and a stunned Ria Klein walked off the field, goalless for the first time in months, surrounded by many of her teammates, yet comforted by none.

I managed to get an incredible shot of the scene before rushing off to get a good spot for the post-match conference, a tradition of our school, regardless of the sport or the result. This tradition was the main reason I went to this school after all.

As I sat in the front row I noticed surprisingly few attendees for such an incredible story. I couldn’t help but shake my head and chuckle at the sight, empty seats of half baked amateurs who wouldn’t report when their team loses, a sadly common sight with beloved teams at this school.

Minutes later the coach of the team and Ria walk in and take their seats at the head of the room. Microphones were lined up on the table in front of them, as well as a special cloth commemorating the big game draped over the edge. I decided that it would make for a very nice photo, maybe mid-way through my article.

As other interviewers asked their entry level questions, I bided my time, jotting down important responses that could prove useful in my summary, and eagerly awaited my turn. And when my turn finally came, I looked Ria straight in her eyes, fighting to keep myself from glancing down at my notes, or at the watchful gazes of my peers around me.

“Many keen viewers of your prior interviews have been quick to point out your weak mentality, especially resulting from your inability to assign blame and responsibility to others when needed. Do you think that lack of true leadership quality caused both the poor performance of your team and your poor performance individually?”

As I watched her eyes, normally piercing and true, became confused, inquisitive, and then suddenly and wholly sorrowful. I’d always been able to ask deep, sometimes even hurtful questions despite the mutterings and harsh daggers stared in my direction, but never before had I regretted asking a question.

It was simply our job, a responsibility of the journalists to get the story, and the athletes to create the source material. At the end of the day, business is business and I was sure everyone understood that. However, as I looked upon the star of the soccer team, the most fearsome and complete player the team has seen in generations, I watched her normally calm and composed demeanor wither away, her glance drop and, as a new and unfamiliar feeling filled me, her voice quivered.

“I-I don’t-”

Her voice trailed off as a silence filled the room. This was a new kind of silence. Not one resulting from a boring question or answer. Not one of an athlete contemplating or patiently awaiting a question.

This was a silence new to everyone in this room, the silence of a songbird whose song has been forgotten. The silence of a bad taste, from a sweet, sweet defeat.