Soccer/Football Imagines

Neymar [~] Madrid Player

"I think you'll get along just fine here," your new manager told you, leading you through the tunnel. You had just signed for Real Madrid's women's team that was debuting this year. You were American and after your performance in the World Cup and Olympics they had signed you. You were excited for your new team, never having left America before. Walking out of the tunnel, you followed your manager over to a group of woman crowded around the center of the field. This team had been working together for the last eight months, a routine you hoped to not upset. "Ladies! Meet your new teammate," your manager called.

The group of women jogged over to you and your manager. One girl stepped forward and extended her hand. "My name is Alisha, I'm the captain of this team," Alisha introduced.

            You shook her hand, "I'm (Y/N)," you replied.

            "Well, welcome to the team, what position do you play?" Alisha asked.

            "I usually play center midfield—"

            "—But, she'll be playing forward for us. That's enough introduction, get back to training," your manager ordered. You followed the other girls on their laps around the field. The girls seemed nice and you got along well with the coaching staff. The first practice was hard, but it wasn't insanely hard. Chugging your water, you followed your teammates into the locker room.

            Opening your locker door, you grabbed your other clothes and began to change. "Are you going to the game tomorrow?" Alisha asked you. Looking up with confusion, you shook your head no.

            "I didn't think we had a game," you replied.

            "Oh, not us, the men's team. They're facing Barcelona, our biggest rivals," Alisha answered. Shrugging your shoulders you agreed to go to the game with the rest of the girls. Driving home that night, you decided to look up more about this Barcelona/Real Madrid rivalry. La Liga wasn't largely televised in America but you had heard about how the matches between the two had turned into battles between the two clubs.

            After a hot shower, you walked over to your computer, looking up facts and rosters on both teams. You recognized most of the players and watched a few clips of how the matches had gone sour. The next day after practice, you went home and changed before carpooling with Alisha to the match. Getting out of the car, you noticed how crowded the stadium was.

            Alisha led the way through the stadium, showing our passes and finally making our way into the VIP section of the stadium. Seeing a few of our teammates already here, we made our way over to them. The VIP section was divided sharply between white jerseys and red and purple/navy blue. Turning your attention to the game that was about to start, you recognized most of the players.

            Barcelona had the ball first. The match went smoothly until about five minutes in. Cards were flying and there was so much flopping it should have been a diving competition. Barcelona scored first but Madrid came back and scored two. With two minutes left, a Barcelona striker you didn't recognize got the ball and dribbled down the field quickly and scored. The match ended 2-2, a bitter draw. "Damn that Neymar!" Alisha swore, getting up.

            "Neymar?" you asked.

            "Yeah, Barcelona sighed him a few months ago. We would've won, dammit," she cursed again. The cameras focused on Neymar. He looked about your age with a Mohawk like haircut. Not to mention you found him attractive. You pushed down those feelings after you noticed how the rest of your team was glaring at the Brazilian.

            Walking down the stairs of the stadium, you followed your teammates to a long hallway. "We'll wait for the boys then we go out, El Clasico tradition," Alisha informed you.