“Marta passes the ball to Abadi. This could be Tyresö’s last chance, what is Yasmin going to do? She’s running for goal now. Ohh, she’s past the first defender! The second! The Third! Only the keeper to beat, can she do it…OMG what a goal! Yasmin Al Abadi just scored a screamer of a goal! There was no way the keeper could catch that! Yasmin Al Abadi, the one time Iraqi refugee, has just clinched the Damallsvenskan for Tyresö! Who would have thought!”

Sitting in one of the Tyreso busses that roam the streets, connecting the town to Stockholm, she cracks a little bright smile as she remembers her majestic performance, the jewel in the crown that was her career, before shedding a tear of longing. This was only four years ago, in 2012. Yet for Yasmin, those were the good old days, before she had to prematurely retire at 28, two years later, due to a career-ending injury. Her leg was broken in two places by a rash tackle in training. The damage was so severe that doctors even considered amputation. Her body could muster enough healing power to allow her to walk again, but no more than that. She could not return to the field as a player without risking her well-being. Even then, she knew she’d only be a shell of her former self.

The decision to retire was the right one, but it cast a cloud on her psyche. Her post retirement life had been blissful, in a town that almost deified her and with a cushy job as an on-screen analyst of Swedish football. Yet the smell of the grass haunted her. She could hear the crowds chanting the hymns of Tyresö in her sleep, screaming her name and the names of her teammates whenever they stepped into the field. Playing the beautiful game was her own beautiful escape from the past she had left behind in the deserts of Iraq. Yet while these auditory and olfactory mirages usually triggered flashbacks to her traumatic Iraqi teenage years, running away from the bullets of armies and militias, trying to protect her younger brothers from the looming doom, today is different. Today, the smells and sounds of her footballer past invoke hope. Today, Yasmin Al Abadi will become a men’s football manager.

Once she reaches the job center in Stockholm, Yasmin gets up to leave her bus. She tips the driver before stepping out into the open. As she heads towards the job center, her mind starts racing. Yasmin has always been what we call a dreamer, consumed by daydreams and visions of the future. This time, these were visions of glory. Interloped with the tactical schematics and scouting report formats she envisioned were snapshots of her hands clutching the many trophies that the footballing world would offer her. The Allsvenskan, the Champions League, the World Cup…Yasmin’s ambitions were endless. Yet with them came doubts. Why is she going through this? Why put herself in a position where she would surely be scoffed at, rejected and expelled from the footballing community? Couldn’t she have continued in her cushy job, or maybe decided to coach female footballing teams, like tradition would dictate? Why throw herself into the clutches of sexists and conservatives all over the world, seeking to tear her apart before she could even prove herself? Yasmin Al Abadi, the refugee girl who was rejected in the field years before, had already proven herself. She has the status and the lifestyle to live a comfortable life. What’s the point in going through this all over again? It is these thoughts that accompany Yasmin as she searches for vacancies at the job center. It is these thoughts that grow louder as she looks at the available opportunities. It is these thoughts that drown her mind as she reads the football teams on her screen.

And yet, she does it anyway. She applies to the one job availabe to her at the moment: Head Coach at Fana Fotbol, in the Norwegian Second Division. The odds may seem insurmountable now, but she is Yasmin Al Abadi, damn it! She had survived gunshots and war zones. She had endured rejection and skepticism from her peers, xenophobia and racism from her fellow humans. She had prevailed through it all, and she knew, in her heart of hearts, that she can do it once more. As she reads up on the team she has applied to, she smiles again. This time, however, it is not a smile of pain and longing, but a smile of hope and excitement. Her career as a football manager is about to begin. She could not be more ecstatic.