Sven Fasel, 25, and Lucca Zarcone, 23, live in Strasbourg, France. They met eight years ago during a football tournament in Strasbourg, Leicester's twin town.
Lucca was playing for Leicester Ladies. Sven refereed their first game. He booked Lucca, the team captain, for tackling an opponent from behind. It was the unlikely start of a beautiful relationship
Sven
We met in August, 2006. There was a big football tournament in Strasbourg. Teams from all over were there to play football. I was a ref. I usually refereed men's games but, somehow, I'd been dragged in to do this one. One of the first games was Leicester Ladies Under-16s and a team from Germany.
Lucca was the Leicester captain. Late on in the game, she tackled her opponent from behind. It was late. It was a foul. I called her over, put her name in the book and gave her a yellow card. I don't think she was very happy about, but it was deserved. It was a bad foul.
The day continued. There were games all day. Everyone stayed behind and had a few drinks at the club house.
She came over to me, I remember. I am older than her but she wasn't intimidated. She was very forward.
I didn't speak much English back then. I was 17. Lucca was 15. We talked and talked and I thought she was nice.
When they went to go back to the hotel, I asked what room she was staying in. She told me. I got there later. I rang her room and a woman answered. She spoke to me in English.
She spoke so quickly, I couldn't tell what she was saying. I asked if I could come up and see Lucca. She said no. I said "why not''.
She said: "I am Lucca's mum.'' I don't think she was very impressed.
But the next day, all the teams gathered at the ground. Everyone was there to say goodbye. I saw Lucca again and we chatted. We swapped e-mail addresses. And that was that. I didn't know what would happen. I hoped something might happen but we were young. We lived in different countries. It was difficult.
I sent her an e-mail that afternoon. She got home that night and replied. That was it. We were off. We would talk on e-mail, MSN, Facebook every day, every night.
We had lots in common and we would just talk and talk and talk. I think by the end of August – we had only known each other a month – I was in love with her. We decided we would be a couple. Boyfriend and girlfriend.
What did I like about her? I liked everything. The way she looked, the things she said, the way she played football and loved football.
In November, she came over to see me in Strasbourg. It was my 18th birthday. She was meant to come with her parents, but her dad had a heart attack. He couldn't come over. So, even though she was 16, she came by herself. We had a great weekend.
I went over to England for Christmas. From then on, we tried to see each other every two months. It was difficult. It was expensive and the flights from Strasbourg went first to Amsterdam, then to Birmingham. It took five hours. Then we found a flight from Strasbourg to Stansted, then a train to Leicester. It still took about four hours – but it was a bit cheaper.
I tried to study in England but it didn't work out, but we knew that one day, we would be together.
We got married on August 23, 2014. We had been engaged for three years, so it was time, I think.
We got married in the Town Hall, in Strasbourg, then the church. That's how you do it over here. It was a nice wedding. Traditional, simple.
Lots of people from Leicester – Lucca's friends and family – came over. It was nice for our two families to meet. They seemed to get on okay, too. That was good.
Lucca is the woman of my life. She makes me the way I am. She is the most beautiful woman on Earth. I feel so happy.
I am 25 now. She is 24 on October 11. I am working and studying and Lucca is working and studying. I hope to be a GP one day, while Lucca wants to be a criminologist or work in the police force.
We also hope that, one day, we will have children and a family.
Here or in Leicester? I don't know. I love Leicester. But Lucca loves Strasbourg. We will have to see, see what is best for the children.
Lucca
Sven remembers the tackle and the booking, but I noticed him before that. We were all sitting on the bench, all the girls, all the members of the team, and my friend nudged me and pointed to Sven. "He's nice isn't he?" she said, and I nodded.
I played left midfield for Leicester Ladies. I liked to push forward and then cut in and shoot. I'm a Leicester City fan. I liked Muzzy Izzet, Neil Lennon, Matty Elliot – all the players from the Martin O'Neill era.
The tournament was a really big thing at the time. There were teams from all over Europe. We came because Leicester is Strasbourg's twin city.
Strasbourg is such a beautiful place. I prefer it to London, Paris, any of these bigger and supposedly more cosmopolitan cities. It's so pretty and there's so much history.
When the tournament started, our first game was against a German team. I was the team captain. Sven was the referee. He called me over. He was miming throwing a coin in the air. He wanted to know what the English was for head or tails. I told him. I thought that was funny. I have a photo of the two teams lining up, Sven in the middle. It's funny to think that was the moment we met.
The games were short, 10 minutes, or something like that. Towards the end, I tackled one of their players from behind. The ref blew the whistle and called me over and showed me the yellow card. They got a free kick and they scored from it. It was the deciding goal. We lost the game.
Did I complain when he booked me? I'm sure I did. I hate getting booked. He was probably right, though. I fancied him a bit, too, so I don't think I would have said anything too harsh!
I think we played six games. We came third. There was a huge party at the clubhouse and you know what they're like in France – they're really not very stringent about the under-age alcohol laws over there. They served all of us beers – and with a shot of picot, an orange liquor, in every one.
I don't think I'd ever drunk so much. My mum and dad were there, but they were at the other end of the bar. They didn't realise, I don't think, until I was drunk. We were all drunk. We were only 15. Hahahaha.
So, fuelled by all this beer and Dutch courage, I found Sven and started talking to him. I remember asking him if he had a six-pack. I lifted his shirt to have a peek. What did he do? He just laughed.
We'd only been talking for about half-an-hour when my mate grabbed us both, marched us round the back of the building and said: "You two – just kiss!"
We did kiss. It was nice. Then we walked back – and the first people we saw were my mum and dad. My mum gave me the death look. She didn't say anything. She didn't have to.
What was my first impression of him?
I thought he was handsome. He dressed nicely. He looked good. And he was trying so hard to communicate. I thought that was nice.
It wasn't, really, until the next day, Sunday, the last day, that we got to know each other.
I was in two minds about it all, really. I'd met a really nice foreign boy and I liked him, a lot, and we'd had a great time.
But I was 15. I lived in Leicester. He lived in Strasbourg. How would that work? I hoped we would keep in touch – but I didn't know if we would.
I got home on Sunday night and he'd already sent me a lovely e-mail.
And then we got to know each other all over again. We would talk, via our computers, every day. It felt so good, and so intense.
My feelings towards him were getting stronger. Every day, I would count down the hours until I could sit down and chat to him. By the end of the month, I was in love with him.
We started to call each other. His English improved. He is so clever, so bright. He picks things up really quickly. It's funny to hear him speak English. He speaks English with a Leicester accent. Yeah, I guess he's got that from me.
A month after my 18th birthday, I moved to Strasbourg. He'd been to Leicester and he liked it – especially the pubs and Frankie and Benny's – but I loved Strasbourg more, so it seemed to be the best thing to do, really.
It was a big move – leaving all my family and friends, settling in a foreign country – but I loved him. I wanted to be with him.
Were my mum and dad worried? I'm sure they were, but they never showed it. They've been so supportive. They knew how much I liked him. They did everything to make it happen.
We were on holiday in Fuerteventura when Sven proposed. He told me to go the room, he had to ask reception for something. Then he turned up with two glasses of Champagne. He put some music on and he asked me to marry him. I said yes and then I cried, and then he cried.
We've been together for five years now. It's been good. I know how much he loves me. We had a difficult time when he was studying and doing his exams and I didn't get to see him as much. I missed him.
He's a good man. He can be really sensible and clever one minute and then utterly daft the next. He's passionate about so many things. He's very determined. He gets things done.
Where will we end up living? I don't know. When he's finished his studies, we're going to sit down and have a real heart to heart about it: what's best for him, best for me – best for our children, when we have some.
People have asked us: "Oh, how did you two get together?''
And I say: "Well, he gave me a yellow card on the football field,'' and it always gets a reaction. I imagine we'll be telling that story for years to come.
!['The ref booked me during a football match - now I've married him' 'The ref booked me during a football match - now I've married him']()