Matchpoint

by Gus Ralthocco

  “I promise you we’ll go anywhere you want when this is over,” said Caio.

  Alice lifted her arms in celebration. “Yes!”

  The look of happiness on her face inspired Diego to smile. He couldn’t help but want to be a part of that trip too, but he wondered how things would change after the Olympics.

  Chapter Four

  CAIO and Diego went back to the village in the afternoon. They had time to freshen up and rest a bit before they had to go back to the arena. While Caio waited for Diego to come out of the shower, Marina messaged him.

  [Marina] I forgot to ask you if the other two finally arrived.

  [Caio] Shouldn’t you be paying attention to the meeting?

  [Marina] I am. We’re on a break. But I saw their coach here, so….

  [Caio] Yes, they’re here. Arrived last night after the ceremony.

  [Marina] Hmm. And everything’s all right? No drama with the ex?

  The ex being Adônis.

  For the public, the two of them had been only partners in the sand, nothing beyond that. But behind closed doors, their relationship had been different. Caio still regretted giving in to his desires all those years ago. In the end it didn’t work out, and the split was complicated on and off the courts. Caio feared he’d lose his career and prestige when he came out, and if it weren’t for his strong will, he would have.

  Still, he kept Adônis’ secret because the man was still in the closet. They’d played against each other on many occasions since then, especially on the Brazilian circuit. Now they didn’t share more than a nod and a few stilted words, and Caio never knew if Adônis wanted to talk to him or not, especially after the way things ended.

  [Caio] On my side, no drama.

  [Marina] Good to know.

  When the texts ended, Caio threw his phone on the bed and checked to see if he had everything in his bag. He had packed another pair of shoes, a few rolls of athletic tape and some kinesiology tape, energy bars, a towel, sunscreen, his cap, and another change of clothes.

  He draped his uniform jacket over his shoulders as Diego came out of the bathroom. Both were wearing their new jerseys.

  “Ready?” Caio asked. The blue and yellow of their uniforms was toned down compared to the bright colors of their ceremonial attire.

  “Yeah.” Diego looked around the room to make sure he had everything he needed. “Let’s go.”

  The apartment had been empty when they got back after lunch, and when their roommates weren’t around, Caio felt a lot less stressed.

  Their trip back to the Champ de Mars was silent, though the bus brimmed with conversation. Caio liked the quiet, although he knew his partner wasn’t much for it, so he kept an eye out for Diego.

  He saw Diego biting his lip once, and Caio bumped a leg on his to distract him from the tension.

  “You okay?”

  Diego looked up and detached his teeth from his bottom lip. He nodded.

  Caio knew the Olympics was bigger than anything else they’d done together, and there was no doubt some anxiety would make an appearance. He and Diego would be fine when they started to play, of course. It was the reason they worked well as partners—inside the court, they knew exactly what to do.

  When they arrived at the arena, the late-afternoon crowd had taken over the plaza, and to reach the inner gate to the backstage area, they had to dodge the crowd that was waiting to get into the stands. A few people twisted their heads when they spotted him and Diego, but they made no motion to approach. For a moment Caio wondered if they were fans of Diego’s or if they had seen the picture of the two of them at the ceremony.

  Marina and Alice waited for them on the other side of the gates. Under the jacket Alice had on, Caio could peek at the shirt she had promised to wear for the game.

  “All ready, boys?” Marina asked in greeting.

  Alice came forward to throw her arms around Caio’s midsection and pushed him back a couple of steps.

  “Daddy!”

  “Yep.” he answered his sister as he tugged Alice closer and lifted her up from the ground. “Hello, Princess!” Caio kissed her cheek, and the scent of her cinnamon shampoo wafted toward his nose.

  “We’re ready,” Diego said from the side. He bounced a bit in place and seemed to be getting his spirits up.

  “That’s good.” Marina nodded. “Today we’ve had no surprising results so far. Your compatriots won their game. The Americans and Russians did too, so now it’s up to you to do your part,” she warned.

  Caio put Alice down, and she poked his leg for him to lower his eyes.

  “Did you see my special shirt, Daddy?” She opened her jacket to show him a white shirt painted in red and green. The letters spelled out Go Daddy! Go Didi! BRASIL!

  He felt the corner of his mouth curling up as he crouched down to her eye level.

  “Thanks, sweetie. We’re going to win this one for you, all right?”

  “I know you’re going to win,” she said, matter-of-factly, and then put her hand under the collar of her shirt to bring out the pendant she wore. It was a metal jellyfish in the colors of the rainbow. “This is for good luck, right?”

  “Of course, it is. It’s our good luck charm,” Caio agreed, not to contradict her. He considered Alice herself their good-luck charm.

  Marina ruffled Alice’s hair, which prompted her to move away with a side-eye to her aunt.

  “Anyway, the meeting this afternoon was just to confirm what we already got from the Organizing Committee, but afterwards the prez came to talk to me.” Marina glanced up for a moment as Caio rose from the ground. “I’m not sure if he talked to the other teams, but he’s hinted that he expects a medal from one of the Brazilian teams. I’m not sure he’s talking about us. We know who the favorites in his eyes are.”

  Caio barely contained the roll of his eyes.

  “We’re still the number one team in Brazil,” Diego pointed out with a shrug. Marina made a “what can you do” gesture, but no one said anything else.

  The prez was a man called Antônio da Gama, president of the Brazilian Volleyball Federation. He was someone Caio often wanted distance from. His experience with him had been far from cordial ever since Caio split with Adônis but very educational.

  “Anyway, the match tonight is your first in this competition, but it’s nothing you two haven’t done before, right?” Marina stepped closer to look them in the eye and urged them to give her their hands so she could hold them in hers. “The most important thing is to go onto the court and focus—on the ball, on your opponents, on the lines and the net. Focus on each other, and the rest will follow. Later, when I see you again, I want us to celebrate a win, all right?” She squeezed their hands.

  Diego confirmed with his head, and his fingers twitched. Caio hoped the exchange of energy would settle him.

  “We have to go,” announced Marina when she released their hands. “Take your time to prepare and hydrate. Diego’s parents already found a place for us up in the stands, so we’ll join them soon.”

  “See you later, then.” Caio motioned for Marina to come closer so he could embrace her. He did the same to Alice.

  Marina wouldn’t be able to stay with them close to the court, so it was better for her to go to the stands and find a good place to see them if she needed to relay some info at the last minute.

  As Caio watched them walk away, he realized he hadn’t even asked if Alice liked her outing in the afternoon, but he’d have time later to get a full report.

  He and Diego went to the athletes’ area behind the main arena. They greeted some of the other competitors along the way but didn’t stop since it was their game night. They had been allocated a time on the warm-up court closest to the main arena, and a volunteer passed by to confirm that they were next in line.

  They took off their shoes and made themselves comfortable in their designated area. The late-afternoon air was moist, even if it still wasn’t as bad as it usually was during the summer in Brazil. And they liv
ed in the south, where the season was far from the scorcher that it was in the northeast.

  On the court right next to theirs, their opponents for the night, the team from Slovakia, was warming up, doing quick runs from the net to the end line.

  Caio grabbed a couple of balls from the basket beside their court and held them. It was the same ball they’ve played with a hundred times before, only now it seemed to have a different weight and shape.

  When Diego followed him onto the sand, Caio threw a ball at him to test his reflexes, but Diego caught it easily.

  “Let’s run,” Caio announced. Then he took off around the court with the ball under his arm, and Diego went after him.

  In training, Diego deferred to him, perhaps because Caio was the more experienced on the sand, but most of the time it seemed to be because he liked to follow orders. While Caio didn’t really have a desire to order people around, he liked the semblance of control it gave him.

  They went up and down the length of the sand court a few times and then stopped to stretch. The other team was working on some hard spikes over the net in an intimidating tactic to keep them on their toes, but Caio followed his preferred pace. After a few minutes of stretching, he initiated a game of passing the ball back and forth on one side of the court and used that time to warm up their fingers so they’d be able to withstand the force of the coming blows. It also served to hone their senses for the match, and as they advanced through different exercises, Caio grabbed the thread of that calm-and-focused mindset he wanted to achieve and didn’t let it go.

  They tested out digs and spikes, and they finished their warm-up with some blocks over the net, jumping high to get a feel of the sand and the responses of their bodies. Caio managed to break a sweat.

  By the time they were done, Diego also seemed more focused. Playing ball always brought out the more goal-driven side of him, which was good in the sand.

  As they sat down to drink water, Caio practiced his breathing and watched as Diego quieted down beside him.

  “What’s your place inside the court?” Caio asked.

  Diego looked up, the answer ready on his lips, “The right side.”

  “And my side?”

  “The left.” Diego dipped his head once and appeared to use the words to regulate his own breathing pattern.

  “If I’m a blocker, you’re a—”

  “Defender.”

  “And together we’re a team.”

  “Yes. We’re a team,” confirmed Diego, and most of the tension lines on his face disappeared.

  “Being a team means we’re together through good and bad. It doesn’t matter if it’s in a small competition or one as big as the Olympics. This is the game we have to play. And we play to win.”

  Caio offered a hand palm-up for Diego to take. Without missing a beat, Diego laid his hand on Caio’s open one, and Caio closed his fingers and held him tight.

  “Let’s do this.”

  Twenty minutes before the game, a volunteer helped them carry their bags as they moved to the warm-up area of the main arena. The referees walked by and greeted each player with a shake of hands, and Caio and Diego did the same with their opponents. Outside the court they were colleagues, all with similar goals and a comparable amount of work behind to be where they are now.

  “You need more tape?” Asked Caio as he checked the bandages on his fingers. Diego shook his head and continued to wrap the hand he used the most.

  Caio took one last deep breath and glanced at Diego as he waited for their names to be called. He trusted Diego, and he trusted himself. Their eyes weren’t solely aimed at the top of the podium because the game was unpredictable. The most important thing was knowing that they played the best they could.

  The only other person he needed inside the court was right by his side.

  Finally, volunteers came to lead the way from the backstage area to the main sand and guided them through a tunnel and into the middle of the crowd. The arena was lit with colorful lights, the stands more than two-thirds full. Caio embraced the chill that ran up to his neck when he heard the noise of the crowd, and his heartbeat picked up.

  Beside him, Diego had his eyes wide open, but he didn’t look scared.

  They dropped their bags, and both teams stepped into the court. They played ball from one side of the net to the other to get a feel for the field, and then they were escorted out so the sand could be prepared for the game.

  At the bench Caio opened a bottle of water to wet his tongue as he waited to be called up for the coin toss. He saw Diego looking at his own hands beside him, flexing the fingers. The veins in his arms popped every time he made a fist. Caio said nothing, only laid a hand on Diego’s shoulder, and left it there until the referee called the captains.

  “Welcome to the Olympics, gentlemen,” the Japanese referee said when Caio and the other captain approached the center.

  The ref assigned sides of the coin and tossed it into the air. The Slovak team won and chose the ball, and Caio was content to keep their side of the court for the time being.

  In that last minute before the match, he turned to the stands in search of Marina. There were many Brazilian flags and people wearing yellow, blue, or green. There were even a few posters of Diego and him, some with the pride flag attached to the corner. There was one with the image of the almost-kiss from the night before, and Caio took in the image for a moment.

  “They’re on the other side.” Diego pointed to the far side of the arena where Alice was waving her arms.

  “Thanks.”

  Caio sent a wave to his daughter, and Alice threw him a kiss that he caught in the air with a fist.

  As he turned to Diego, who got up from his seat, their eyes met. In a silence that existed only between them, Caio wanted to search inside of Diego for the confidence he knew was there. He leaned close to his partner, and they almost bumped foreheads as Diego stared at him with wide eyes in an imitation of what happened at the ceremony. He wasn’t sure that was the right way to distract Diego, but it worked, because Diego laughed.

  “From Brazil, Caio Paraguassú and Diego Torres!” The announcer called their names, and the crowd cheered for them.

  As they stepped onto the court, Caio slightly in front of Diego, raw energy came at them from the stands. They positioned themselves, and Caio signed with his hands behind his back for Diego to see their first tactic of defense.

  The referee blew the whistle and the Slovak defender who was positioned at the back of the court, out of the line, sent the ball flying into the air and then jumped to serve it toward the space between Caio and Diego.

  “Mine,” Diego called out as he put his hands together to receive the ball. He sent it into the air again, closer to the net than it should be.

  Caio leaped above the net, and instead of setting the attack for Diego, he tapped the ball with his palm on the second touch. He sent the ball toward the ground on the other side of the court, breaking the timing of the other team as they scurried to save it. The ball dropped to the sand.

  “Yes!” Diego shouted beside him. “That was awesome.” He lifted his hand for a high five, and Caio slapped his palm in the air. The worst of the tension Caio felt seemed to dissipate then and leave a growing excitement in its place.

  “Brazil 1, Slovakia 0.”

  Caio clapped his hands and welcomed the burn in his palms. The crowd cheered in the stands, fueling him with adrenaline.

  He was tasked with the next serve, so he walked to the back of the court. When the whistle blew, Caio used a light touch to carry the ball to the other side and darted back to his position as the other team worked on their court. The attack prepared by the Slovaks aimed to the side where Caio was positioned, so he advanced toward the net and covered it as Diego moved back and landed on the space between Caio and the sideline.

  When the Slovak team spiked the ball to the Brazilian side of the court, it came almost sideways to hit the opening between Caio and Diego. But Caio was quick to move hi
s arms to the right so he could catch the ball before it passed the net and block it down onto the other side again.

  That was a two-point difference for Brazil.

  “Yeah!” Caio pumped his fist and turned to Diego, who came ready for another high five. It seemed as though everything was falling into place, and Caio wasn’t wrong.

  There were mistakes here and there, mostly on the follow-up to some receives. At other times, Caio was too quick to block before he reached the net, which made the ball slip right under his nose and give the point to the other team. Then it was Diego trying to get an ace when it was his turn to serve, but he hit the ball too hard and it went over the line.

  But they played well, and the game ended in a 2-0 for Brazil. The crowd was behind them throughout the match, so Caio bowed to them at the end and Diego followed him around the arena to do the same. They greeted the Slovak team with the feeling of mission accomplished, and Caio clapped Diego on the back and sent a wave to Alice and Marina in the stands.

  He saw the prez sitting not far from Marina, with an intense look on his face.

  It didn’t take long for Caio and Diego to be ushered toward the mixed zone, where reporters were waiting. Coasting on the high of a win, Caio was at the front, preparing himself for the questions as a microphone came close to his face.

  “Hello, Caio. Congrats on the win, it looked like a good game for you guys. What can you say about your preparation and how this first day went for the Brazilian teams?” The reporter had a camera behind him, and Caio saw in his shirt the logo of one of the biggest TV stations in Brazil. Their game might have been on live TV, so he schooled his emotions before he spoke.

  “It was a good match. We trained a lot to get here, and we’re ready for the competition. I would like to give a shout-out to our coach, our families, and everyone who helped us through the preparation for this competition. Our result tonight is as much theirs as it is ours.”

  “Adônis and Elton also won their game 2-0. Do you believe we can have two Brazilian teams on the podium?” the reporter asked, and more microphones joined the first to catch Caio’s answer.