Not knowing the age of Zavala’s brother, he couldn’t say he knew what kind of timeline the other player was working on, but he did look close to thirty - so maybe his time was slowing down on the field. If he was already Captain there wasn’t far to go.

He was mildly intrigued about what Zavala’s plans might be after retirement, what sort of game players in this country made of their lives after, but there was always a possibility he’d smash himself in during the summer, so maybe he would wait until after the world cup to inquire.

In the meantime, of watching the British women’s skill: “Or their lack of it,” Yassine could not resist putting in with a bark of laughter, because although they had a few women on the Moroccan team, he did not think much of them when he tallied up their talents in general. Maybe it was less about the flying and more that they seemed more sensitive to his attitude. At any rate, all he knew about British women and the sensibilities of these English roses or whatever did not scare him. If their skills did not stack up, Zavala would be paying up anyway, so Yassine clapped him on the back with an easy smirk. “I look forward to being a little richer for it.”

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