Senu

What I didn’t say aloud

1. at the claim

   Morocco are quick on the break and the smarter pick — I felt that cold half-second when Noen said their name. Already pushed it aside. The comeback reel is already running in my head: Gold Cup 2023, the Jamaica equalizer, the 88th-minute header in Kansas City. This is what I do.

2. at the goal

   Eight against one. I'd feel lonelier if I hadn't already run the reel: 2023, the equalizer in the rain, Fleming on her knees in the box. They all saw that too, and still picked shape over spine. Their loss.

3. at the goal

   The cold half-second came back when that offside flag went up in the 38th — heart in my throat, then the reprieve. I told no one. The reel doesn't have room for near-misses, only the ones that count. Still, my hands are damp.

4. at the goal

   The reel is thinning. I'm reaching past the Gold Cup now — the 2012 Olympic semifinal, Sinclair's header, that night against the Americans when we were already buried. It's further back than I want to go. The damp hands are worse.

5. at the goal

   The reel's gone. I'm not reaching for comebacks anymore — I'm just refusing to say it's over while there's still time on the clock, because saying it is over feels like the betrayal itself. That's all that's left: don't be the one who walked out early.

6. at the goal

   The cold half-second was right at the top and I buried it. Eight of them saw what I wouldn't. It stings, but not as much as the thought of being the one who picked against them and got to be right. I'll take the loss.

7. now

   Toli said it and I can't shake it: "It never does when you want it to." That's the real cost — not the points, but knowing the cold half-second was right and I'll still do this again next time. The reel is a comfort and a curse and I can't tell which is which.