"I guess today could have gone worse."
Carl sat on the hotel bed, glass of water in hand, not taking his eyes off the movie on the screen, even though the dub was bad enough that he felt he would have an easier time with the Dutch dialog. Chris, wearing a towel, crossed in front to get to his own bed and sat down before answering.
"We've definitely played worse matches. Hell, you've played worse matches. "
"I've only played two matches for this team."
"Exactly."
"I guess we just needed to get up to speed."
"Whatever."
Chris settled under the covers and dropped his towel next to the bed. He'd been sleeping naked as long as they'd been in the hotel; Carl had assumed it was normal until Cormac Danielson had told him otherwise, but by then it was too late.
"Still," said Carlton, "A goal each. We definitely did pretty well."
"I'm used to scoring a lot more than that against amateurs." Chris turned grumpily away.
"And Cory getting his first international goal."
"Should have happened a long time ago."
"You're just determined to be unhappy, aren't you?"
There was a grunt, and the television turned off.
