Matchpoint

by Gus Ralthocco

  Caio and Diego had done their homework, watched some clips of Mathieu and Wells, studied their evolution in the past year, and discussed what strategy would best suit the match. The Australians were a strong team, but Caio and Diego had bested them in the past, and they were looking for a repeat performance.

  “I was wondering how Mathieu is coming to this competition after his injury. He was the rock of their team. Wells is good, but he seems to mess up a lot of his serves when he’s nervous,” Diego said when they were seated side by side after their warm-up.

  “They took some time away from competition to train after they lost the Australian event in the series, and I’m sure they’re coming back stronger.” Caio used a towel to wipe the sweat from his forehead and passed it to his partner.

  They had left Marina, Alice, and Diego’s parents on the way to the stands before the game. But since it was the middle of the week, there would be fewer people around, and they might find a good place to sit. Still, when they got into the complex, a lot of Brazilian fans were milling around with shirts and flags in unmistakable colors.

  “So, you think we should use the same strategy that worked last time with them?” asked Diego, watching how their opponents practiced on the adjacent court.

  “Sending most of the balls to Mathieu?” Caio recalled. “I don’t know. We could try doing that for the first half of the game and see how he reacts to it. Then we can alternate.”

  Diego dipped his head. “You remember that the last time we played, Mathieu got some of the balls, but when we kept throwing them at him, he broke down in the middle of the second set, and we won that one easily.”

  Caio remembered that match, but he knew this one was different, and he didn’t want to seem too confident. “I know, but I still think we should wait and see how they come to this game.”

  They both watched the Australians throwing down some hard spikes before they stopped to rest. Caio could see that they were in top form, and he was right not to underestimate them.

  “Oh, look who I found.” Diego tapped his thigh to point Caio to another court, a bit farther away, where the Uruguayan team was training. Angel and Medina were good friends with Caio, even before everything happened with Adônis. When Diego got into the partnership with Caio, Angel and Medina welcomed the new guy with open arms in their hometown.

  Caio waved, and Tobias Angel locked eyes with Caio and raised his hand in greeting. The smile on his face lasted until he was hit on the head with a ball thrown by his partner.

  “Yikes.” Diego winced, and Caio felt the pain for Angel, but the two of them laughed at the antics of the other team.

  “Good luck on your game!” shouted Mario Medina from the other court, in a thick Portunhol accent.

  “Thanks,” Caio shouted back. “Good luck on yours, too!”

  Diego waved at them, and that was the extent of their interaction. It was a nice reprieve from the usual lack of affinity between the Brazilian teams.

  After another minute of rest, Caio and Diego went back to playing ball.

  By the time they were set to enter the main court, Caio was practicing his breathing and Diego seemed as focused as ever. The official presentation of the teams called them into the court under the morning sun, and the noise from the crowd welcomed them as the referee got ready to start the match.

  Even though Caio was still unsure about the correct strategy, he and Diego decided to try doing the same thing they had done in the past. If it worked, it worked. If it didn’t, they could always change things up.

  The Australians got the ball in the coin toss. They’d be the first to set it into the game.

  With his fingers Caio signaled their tactic of defense before the first ball.

  Mathieu didn’t force his serve, and Caio received it with ease and passed it to his partner. Diego set the attack, and Caio aimed at Mathieu, but the man was quick on his defense, and the Australian team mounted a speedy attack and caught the Brazilians off guard.

  Australia 1, Brazil 0.

  “That didn’t go too well,” Diego commented when they reunited in the middle of the sand for a quick moment before the next ball.

  “It’s all right. Let’s try again.” Caio offered his fist for a bump, trying not to let the tension mess with his head.

  But as they tried again, the same thing happened. Mathieu defended, and they scored. And then he defended again, and the Australians scored another time. But things changed when Diego decided to switch to Wells, and they found a crack in their armor. Not a point yet, but a mistake from them, which eventually led the Brazilian team to score a point, but only when the game was 4-0 to the Australians.

  “Change of plans, right?” Diego offered when they met in the middle of their side of the court after a successful attack.

  There wasn’t much time, but Caio nodded. “Try to put your balls next to the sidelines. Both of them are pretty good at receiving in the middle, so let’s make them work harder for the point.”

  Caio waited for Diego’s nod of confirmation, and Diego seemed confident. It helped Caio center himself for the next ball.

  It wasn’t smooth sailing after that, but the match became more balanced. It was still tight, and there were mistakes, but both teams made them. Nevertheless, Caio and Diego were nothing if not resourceful, and when things went wrong with one of their fundamentals, they switched to a different strategy.

  As the game went on, Caio directed Diego to split the attention of the other team, shoot the balls right to the space between them, and get them as close to the net as possible, so they’d have to scramble.

  Diego wasn’t as accurate at that sort of serve. He preferred to use brute force, even if it sometimes worked against him. But Caio and Diego complemented one another. They trailed behind the Australian team for most of the first set, but they managed to turn things around and get ahead. The first set ended 23-21 for the Brazilian team.

  Loud cheers followed them as the teams moved to their chairs to rest while the sand was smoothed out again to prepare for the rest of the game.

  “Wouldn’t it be a good time now to go back to our strategy from the start of the match?” Diego wondered as they sat down.

  Caio glanced at him and thought about the question, but his eyes focused on a bead of sweat at the top of Diego’s upper lip, and he lost his concentration. Diego moved his tongue to lick the moisture from his skin, and something warm pulsed inside Caio. Diego’s skin glinted under the sun.

  “Wells is getting antsy about the game, and Mathieu is frustrated, but you know one of them is prone to making more mistakes than the other,” Diego added. He expected Caio to say something, and Caio needed to speak up.

  He managed to look away a few seconds later and shook his head to clear his thoughts.

  “We can try. If we open a larger advantage before the timeout, we might get to administer the rest of the set,” Caio reasoned as he pulled back from Diego to concentrate on the game.

  They hydrated until the referee called them up, and Caio took a deep breath as he felt the electricity of the crowd push him back into the game. Still, there was a different energy, stronger than the one from the crowd, running through his veins.

  On the other side of the court, Mathieu was tasked with the serve again. The Australian player sent a floaty ball to the Brazilian side of the net, and Caio received it and passed it to Diego, who prepared their attack. Caio got ready to jump, aiming his arm at Mathieu, across from him on the other side. When he hit the ball, it went right to Mathieu’s chest and hit him with enough force for it to sound around the arena, but Mathieu didn’t give up. He let the ball kick off his chest and into the air again. His partner, Wells, would set the ball for the attack, and Mathieu needed to recharge for the next spike.

  On the Brazilian side of the court, Caio prepared to block while Diego peeled from the net to defend the backcourt. When the ball came, it was fast, but Caio blocked its course. The ball fell to the sand on the other side of the net—a
point for Brazil.

  “Yes!” Caio turned to high-five Diego.

  “More of the same?” Asked Diego, his eyes wide and alive, full of energy.

  “More of the same,” Caio agreed. He had to force himself to turn around, because he wanted to look at those brown eyes just a second longer.

  On the next serve, Diego sent the ball toward Mathieu again, with a short, quick hit. Mathieu received with some success, but he had to finish their attack. When he came up to the net Caio raised his arms even higher and Mathieu wasn’t able to keep the ball away from him. The block was solid, and it converted another point for Brazil.

  The crowd cheered with them during the next rallies, as Diego served quick balls to Mathieu, who never managed to send it back to the Brazilian side of the court. He was either stopped by the block or his aim was compromised.

  Since things weren’t working out for them, Wells asked for a timeout, sensing that his partner was losing concentration. Caio could relate, but although he had something on his mind besides the match, he was still able to focus on what he needed to.

  As they moved to their chairs, Diego wore a satisfied smile. Caio was affected by his confidence, but it was the right moment to give Diego a reality check.

  “Don’t get cocky. I’m sure Mathieu is getting a good talking to, and I don’t need to give you one. I want you to vary your serve on the next ball. Hit Wells and let them decide what’s going to happen. If we get the point, then aim at Mathieu again.”

  Diego confirmed with a dip of his head, and Caio hoped Diego wouldn’t get too comfortable with the pace of the game. Inside the court only the win mattered, and the game only ended after the match point.

  The thirty seconds of rest were over and both teams came back to the sand. Following Caio’s advice, Diego aimed his next serve at Wells, but the other team didn’t show surprise. They quickly formed their attack.

  Caio made to step toward the net, but when the ball was set to the back of the court, he changed direction. The hit was going to come from the middle of the opposing court and most likely aim to the back of the Brazilian side, so they prepared for a long ball. Diego was paying attention to Caio’s movements, and also went to the back of the court, prepared for the attack that came bounding his way.

  With his hands together to receive, Diego sent the ball into the air. Caio moved to set it again and gave a quick look at the players on the other side. He tried to sense how far into the other court he wanted the spike to go and how their opponents were spread out in the sand. Diego jumped before the ball was in the air again, and Caio followed his movement and sent the ball right to his hand with a swift tap upward. It hit Diego’s spiking hand and went viciously right down to the front of the net.

  Mathieu had relaxed on his block, but quick on his feet, he tried to kick the ball so as not to let the rally end. Wells raced to follow up and send it back into the air, but they didn’t prepare a decent attack and only managed to pass the ball to the Brazilian side.

  “Mine!” Caio called, and they inverted positions for him to receive the ball.

  He bumped it to Diego, who set the attack so Caio could be the one to jump high for the hit. The ball went from Caio’s hand to Mathieu again.

  This time Mathieu didn’t manage to stop it and got hit right in the face. The ball fell to the sand.

  “Yes!” Caio heard Diego cheering on the side, along with the crowd. Even Caio felt relieved at the end of that rally, especially when the point was theirs, but he sent a worried glance toward Mathieu, who eventually got up.

  The Australian team lost the set again, and this time without putting up much of a fight. They finished at 21-9.

  When the two teams met at the net after the Brazilian win, Mathieu was still red in the face from that ball, and Caio apologized for hitting him that hard.

  “It’s the game, mate. No need to worry,” was the answer he got, coupled with a strong handshake to send him off. The Australian team still had a chance to qualify in their next match because they had won their first game against the Mexican team, but they needed the win to guarantee a qualification.

  On the other hand, Caio and Diego had two wins and no set lost, which meant they could even lose the next match and still advance to the next round.

  At the mixed zone, Diego offered to take the questions this time, and Caio waited behind him and listened to the conversation from a few feet away.

  “Your second win here, after also a good day yesterday for the women. Do you see Brazilian volleyball honoring the tradition of past editions of the games after failing to get as many titles during this Olympic cycle?”

  That question was not unexpected. All the sports in Brazil had lost funding after the Games in Rio, though the athletes who had reached their peak during that time had reaped some rewards later on. But a lot of other sports were trying to recuperate from the subsequent decrease in development, either investing in different categories or allocating the available funds to fewer teams. A lot of the experienced athletes had retired in the past couple of years, and Caio was one of the oldest still competing.

  “I think it’s hard to maintain any hegemony in the sport the way we did. We got medals in all editions of the Games since beach volleyball was included in the Olympic program. And yeah, we had some difficult times in the past, and I’m sure more of them will come in the future, but we’re here to play and to honor the colors of our flag.” Diego was serious in his answer, but then he smiled at the reporter.

  “And I know a lot of people talked about the photo during the Opening Ceremony—” at that, Diego visibly rolled his eyes, almost as a joke, but there was a shift in his demeanor, and a bit of apprehension was visible even under a layer of good humor.

  He didn’t let the reporter finish her question.

  “I think we had a lot of fun that day. I have to congratulate the photographer, because they caught us in the middle of a big party. We were having fun, just that. But people are allowed to see what they want to see when they look at that image.” He took a breath, but before the reporter could get a word in, he opened his mouth again. “And also, there would be nothing wrong if we were having an intimate moment right then. Men can also treat each other with affection, and it doesn’t really matter who we kiss. In the end, we’re here to play and to win. The rest is just noise.”

  With a wave, Diego stepped back and turned to Caio as he made his way to the exit.

  Caio followed him, surprised but fascinated with that wordy answer.

  In the backstage area, away from the cameras, the confidence on Diego’s face changed into doubt and hesitation.

  “Do you think I said too much?” Diego seemed unsure.

  Caio was quick to shake his head.

  “I don’t think so. You did say a lot of stuff, but it’s all true.”

  “It is, right? I hope no one takes issue with it. But it’s not like I was wearing an ‘I’m from the Valley of the Gays’ shirt.”

  At that, Caio snorted. He knew Diego had that shirt back home.

  In the end, people would speculate about whatever they wanted. It’s not like Caio and Diego were a team because they were both gay guys, because they liked dick. It was far from the most important reason why they were together.

  They were a team because they could understand each other in ways no one else was able to. Caio had been hard pressed to think of a reason why at first, but he and Diego had found a lot of common ground to thread, and that was all they needed to make it work.

  Kiss or no kiss, what they had was enough, and it shouldn’t make a difference either way.

  Chapter Seven

  DIEGO and Caio spent the next day training and returned to the room, where Diego took a shower and lay down in bed as the sun fell behind the buildings. “You think De la Rosa and José Maria are going to cause us any trouble tomorrow?”

  As Caio turned back from the open window, wearing shorts and nothing else, Diego couldn’t help but swallow hard at the vision of
his partner’s naked chest. His pecs were well defined and his abs were ripped, even when Caio was at ease. Diego lowered his eyes to his phone.

  “I don’t know what their strategy is going to be tomorrow,” Caio wondered aloud as he leaned on the wall beside the window. From the corner of his eye, Diego could see his profile bathed in the setting sun. “They tried to hit you hard on the last game we played, but it didn’t work out well for them.” There was a compliment hidden in his words.

  “If they do that tomorrow, I’m going to be ready.” Diego raised his eyes again.

  “I know you are. Just don’t forget that De la Rosa kind of had it out for you last time. I can only wonder why.” Caio gave him a side-eyed look, to which Diego replied with the most innocent glance he could muster.

  Diego knew he wasn’t the most attractive person in the world, but during the last game they played against the Mexicans, he tried to show off his body, licking his lips every time he looked at De la Rosa, aiming to provoke some reaction. It turned out that was a good strategy to win the game against someone with a little bit of prejudice in their veins.

  De la Rosa’s partner, José Maria, had tried to make De la Rosa snap out of it during a timeout, and Diego had seen their argument. Caio might have not realized what was happening, but that was because he was above and beyond any kind of intimidation tactic. He was like a rock sometimes.

  “So, do you want to watch a movie?” Caio changed the subject when he sat down on the other bed. “It’s too soon to go to sleep, but I want to relax for a bit.”

  “Yeah, I’m game.” Diego moved from his seat to get his laptop. “Do you have any preferences?”

  “What about Mulan?” Caio suggested, and Diego smiled.

  Back when he first met Caio and Alice, Diego had watched the animated version of that tale a bunch of times with her during rainy spells in winter. When the live-action came out, they watched the movie many more times together.

  “Do you have any snacks?” Diego inquired as he set up the movie on his laptop. “I have some chocolate bars, but that’s it.”