Disclaimer: All players and portrayers © themselves Based off the movie © Disney 'If Nobody Believed In You' © Joe Nichols
Tell me how would you feel
You'd probably give up too
If nobody believed in you
"Can't say I blame 'em," all twenty-three heads looked at a girl in the stands, "I believe I'd give up too."
"Southerner," some of the boys murmured, noting her black cowboy had and boot.
"Aye," she nodded, "Just because I'm a southerner doesn't mean I'm stupid." She waved her hand, before spotting one player on the line that looked at her oddly. She grinned at him.
"Can I ask who you are?" Herb questioned, glancing at the player. She looked thoughtful for a moment.
"I suppose you could," she replied, "But I doubt you'd get much out of it." She looked quite content with herself, leaning against a random seat of the thousands there, "Europe's a beauty, ain't she?"
"Who are you?" A random player questioned. She eyed him with a look of distaste.
"Anyway, as I was saying," she shot her look around the room, "I'd give up too."
"I don't have time for this," Herb responded.
"Go on, ask me the question on everybody's mind," she rolled her eyes. Suddenly, the one player stood, from where he had been on the ground, tired.
"And why is it that you would give up?" he asked, watching as she made her way closer to them.
"Because," she started, "Nobody believes in you. I know, nobody believes in me either." She hooked her thumbs in her pockets. He loosened his grip on his stick.
"I believe in you," he replied. She gave a weak smile.
"I believe in you, Mark," she said, "I believe in you all, but it doesn't matter what I believe."
"It does," Mark responded firmly. She sighed.
"I suppose, if you would start realizing that I do." The two stared at each other, "Realization might would help a little," she urged. Rizzo spoke up.
"Who do you play for?" The other voice took them out of their trance.
"I play for," he breathed, "the United States of America."
"That's all gentlemen," Herb left the tired players.
"Believe, believe," she murmured, "Anyway, remember I believe." She made her was back up, dragging her feet.
She hadn't left by the time the players were boarding their bus. Instead, she sat on the hood of her truck, examining her boot.
"Better not have scratched those, they're brand new, you know," she looked up, now playing with her keys. She smiled, a sad smile.
"Mark," she stated simply, "Should've known." She hopped off the hood in one swift motion, "Anyway, I've got to catch a plane at eleven, I should head that way." He moved towards her, she glanced up causing him to stop.
"Thanks," he murmured.
"Anytime at all," she replied, pulling herself into the driver's seat, "I…" He watched her.
"How did you…?" he started.
"You think I'd miss any of your games? Besides, dad…left…" She swallowed, but the lump in her throat stayed. "I hate the way we are," she said suddenly.
"What?" He looked confused.
"Torn apart," she muttered, "I've given up, as soon as y'all get your gold I'm gone, because this just won't work."
"We'll make it work," he moved towards her again, now she couldn't close the door if she wanted to, "It looks just like your real truck."
"Back in the States," she nodded sadly, "Well, I guess this is goodbye, I'll just be another face in the crowd."
"You're more than just a face in the crowd," he stuck his hand out. She took in between her, watching them.
"I'm a believer," she responded, running his hand down the side of her face.
"I believe in this," he responded, pulling himself in closer, "We can make it." She shook her head, hugging him. Her grip said she wouldn't let go.
"Random fan number ten," she made to close the door as she let him go.
"I'm a believer, too," he stated.
"One more try," she replied after a moment. She pulled her hat from the dashboard, "That's it." She put it on his head, "Don't forget."
"I won't," he responded, engulfing her, "I'm a believer, remember?"
"I find it hard to forget," she gave him a soft kiss before pulling away, "You had better win, Mark." With that she drove off.
"We will, we will," he said to himself.
"So, who's that?" Rizzo clapped a hand on his shoulder.
"A believer," he replied, making his way to the bus, "Like me."
Okay, well. I love Miracle (proof at my LJ and DA page), and Mark Johnson's my favorite. I fell in love with Eric Peter-Kaiser (proof there again), so this is off his portrayal. That 'Random Fan Number Ten' is since she says she'll be another face in the crowd, she's saying she'll be a random fan. The number ten comes from the fact that Mark's number is ten. Anyway, my first Miracle fiction, hope y'all like.