Living in Portugal means getting used to one of the biggest passions of its inhabitants: football. Throughout the country, there are Portuguese fanatics for this sport. Whenever possible, they gather to cheer for their heartfelt team. Here in the ‘Invicta City’, it is FC Porto. The colours white and blue are carried with pride because, according to locals, it is the best team.

Although I was born in a country that promotes sports, I have never been interested in watching people run from one side to the other in front of a screen. However, when I received an invitation to watch the Women’s Euro League, I allowed myself to create a new perspective on it.

As the name suggested, we agreed to meet at the Sports Bar, which focused on broadcasting all sports. The establishment offered different types of beer, local and international, and had ten televisions spread across the walls. The decor did not stray from the theme and could be compared to traditional pubs.

Upon entering the bar, I immediately saw the group from my college seated near the biggest screen. Anna waved when she saw me, and I pointed to the bar, signalling that I would get a drink. In less than a minute, I received a text message on my phone. It was her asking for a Super Bock beer (which did not surprise me).

As I sat at the table, I noticed that everyone concentrated on the TV content, giving me the impression that this night wouldn’t involve much conversation. I handed Anna her drink, and she promised to make the next round and greeted João, who is in my Public Relations class.

“Ready to cheer on Portugal?” João asked excitedly.

“Of course! I even put on my lucky bandana,” I exclaimed, pointing to my head. João noticed the sarcasm in my tone, smiled and turned back to the screen.

Anna snuggled up next to me and showed me a picture of her hugging a man on her phone.

“Do you know who he is?” she asked.

“No idea,” I replied, sipping my drink.

“It’s the guy from Tinder!” she exclaimed.

I reacted with surprise, associating who he was, and asked, “Did it work out?”

“It did! We’ve been out several times since the last time I told you, and I don’t know, I think I’m starting to like him.”

“Wow, I’m glad to hear that! I admit that initially, I thought he was strange with that ‘ideal woman’ talk. But it’s good to know it was just an impression.”

“Ah! He did give a conservative talk, but I understood that it was just a way for him to portray confidence.”

“Just don’t let him vote for Chega.¹ ” I gave a sly smile.

“Then I’ll be the one who will be forced to say a ‘Chega’ to him!” We both laughed, but the entire bar turned to us with disapproval. We pretended it wasn’t directed at us and returned to the game.

---

When the referee’s whistle announced that the match was over, France had won 2-0 against Portugal, and the atmosphere at the table was so dense that it seemed you could cut it with a knife. Inevitably, my colleagues lost their spirits to keep drinking and went home. Anna and I decided to stay longer, but we didn’t wait too long to ask for the bill.

As we walked towards the exit, Anna gave a start and said, “Oh my God, he’s coming!”

“Who?” I asked.

“The guy from Tinder!”

“You know you can start calling him by name, right?” I said with irony. There were times I couldn’t contain myself.

“Oh my God! I wasn’t expecting this!” She asked me with concern. “Can you stay with me until he arrives?”

“Of course, dear! Don’t worry. My house is near here.”

“Phew, sorry. Sometimes, he’s too intense.” Anna added.

“It’s incredible how they still say that women go extra. ” I winked at her, and she nodded in agreement.

We stood by the door for over twenty minutes, and I wondered if this guy was coming. Anna saw that I was starting to lose patience and began to tell me about her adventures in Canada, but someone interrupted her. Finally, he had arrived.

“Sorry!” The man apologised as he approached us. “Do you have a lighter?”

I huffed because I could see he wasn’t the person we were waiting for right away. “No. Sorry.” Anna replied.

“Sorry to bother you. I didn’t want to upset you.” He looked in my direction, but before I could respond, he asked, “Has anyone ever told you that you look like that actress…”

“Jessica Alba? Yes, I already know it.” I cut him off to move the repetitive conversation forward. He smiled.

“Sorry, I didn’t even introduce myself to you guys.” He extended his hand. “I’m Jean.”

I extended my hand in greeting and wondered what one wouldn’t do for a friend.

“Were you guys watching the soccer game?” Jean continued.

Anna, who was focused on her phone, laughed and said, “Oui, oui! Upii. Allez les Bleus!” I could hear the bitterness in her voice, and I could confirm that she had stood up.

“Ah! Supportez-vous également l’équipe de France?” Jean said with impeccable French, and quickly, my mind processed that his characteristics and name could only belong to a Frenchman.

“Je ne soutiens rien et ne veux même pas parler.” Anna replied in her fluent French, and I wondered where my two-and-a-half years of classes had gone. “I’m leaving, okay?” She looked at me.

“But what about the guy from Tinder?” I asked, confused.

“It’s not going to happen. When I better grasp this situation, I’ll let you know.” Anna kissed me on the cheek and pointed to the car. “Uber’s here. Au revoir!”

Upon seeing her enter the car, I realised Jean was still beside me.

“Oh, something is going on, and I don’t want to interrupt,” he said politely.

“It’s okay! But I think it’s time for me to go too,” I said while manoeuvring past Jean to go toward home.

“Understandable. Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Jessica Alba.”

I laughed, raised my hand in farewell, and left.

---

The following day, I woke up to my phone beeping with messages. Still, with my eyes half-open, I grabbed the phone and saw that Anna had sent me seven screenshots, twelve text messages, and four voice messages. It turns out that the guy from Tinder was not a conservative but was married.

As my brain was taking in all that information, I noticed I had 23 minutes to leave if I didn’t want to be late for class. I jumped out of bed and began to get dressed while listening to Anna’s podcast. I left the house with a washed face and hair tied up in a poorly made bun and heard my stomach growl.

On the way to Marquês Station, I quickly stopped at the bakery to buy a sandwich. I looked at my watch as I walked in and realised I was already late.

“If this isn’t a coincidence, then I have to ask you to stop following me,” someone whispered, and I jumped.

“Jean!” I said when I recognised the face. The woman behind the counter called me to ask for my order, and I was finally going to put something in my stomach.

I picked up the container with my still-hot food and walked over to Jean, who was outside.

“I’m sorry, but I’m late for class, and I won’t be able to chat,” I told Jean as I left the door.

“No problem, Jessica. Can I at least have your contact info?” I knew at this point I had already missed the first class.

“Sure!” I took the phone he was extending to me with my Instagram page open and went to look for my profile. It’s incredible how we’ve acquired this app as a source of contacts. “Here it is.” I returned the phone to Jean.

“Perfect! Go ahead. It would be best if you weren’t any later. Have a good class!” he said.

“Thank you!”

As I got on the train, I sat down and called Anna. She didn’t answer. I thought maybe it was better that way. I left a message for her and put the phone back in my pocket. Not even a minute passed, and I felt the phone vibrate. I picked it up again, expecting a message from Anna, but instead, I saw an Instagram notification.

“I think I made a mistake, Jessica.” It was Jean. I replied:

“What happened?”

He responded:

“I let you slip away again.”

The football match may not have been what I expected, but I realised that while some lose, others win.

A.M.

¹CHEGA is a word in Portuguese that, in its figurative sense, means ‘it’s enough’. Also, it is a party building itself as Portugal’s third political force. It is known for its discourse on conservatism.

²translate: Do you also support the French team?

³translate: I don’t keep anything and don’t even want to talk.