Read The Greatest of all Time Chapter 21 - First Match In Europe II online for free - AllNovelFull
At 4:00 PM, the referee blew the whistle, signaling for the match to begin.
Viking Stavanger kicked off the match.
The cheering of Rosenborg fans behind Viking's goal shook the stadium right after. They chanted some of the names of the players entering the stadium, like Ole and Mushaga.
The first few minutes were an affair of a scuffle in the midfield. No team managed to hold the ball long enough to make any notable impact during the first ten minutes.
The Rosenborg boys, in white, struggled to dominate the ball possession with their five midfielders. However, they were always quickly closed down by the Viking players in their dark blue jerseys.
The Viking under-19s were proving to be a tough nut to crack.
They were playing the conventional 4-4-2 formation that afforded them a solid basic structure with defensive depth and attacking numbers. All their players had clearly marked roles.
When the Viking team lost the ball, their four defenders and four midfielders would put eight men in front of the Rosenborg boys, covering the entire width of the field. One of their strikers often returned to help in the midfield.
Their game-play was the typical Mourinho style when he faced the Barcelona of Ronaldinho.
But during the 16th minute, the boy Ole Selnæs started performing like a superstar. He attracted a lot of cheers from the crowd of supporters. His plays were phenomenal, enabling the Rosenborg under-19s to come alive when he touched the ball. The other midfielders would try opening up spaces or making runs aimed at penetrating the opponent's half—awaiting his passes.
His long passes were like sniper shots, always managing to find Mushaga—the center forward of the Rosenborg under-19s. The two created the first good chance of the game in the 20th minute in such a fashion.
After receiving a quick ball from the keeper, Ole unleashed a long ball on an arching path towards Mushaga. The afro-boy had the time and space inside the box after picking up the neat pass and pulled the trigger. But his shot towards the far corner was pushed away by the outstretched fingertips of the Viking goalkeeper.
The Rosenborg Troll Kids won the first corner of the game.
Jonas Svensson, the right-winger, stepped up to take the corner. He whipped a teasing ball into the box, but one of the Viking defenders was alert and averted the threat.
However, it was clear to all the spectators that the Troll Kids of Lerkendal had begun establishing their dominance in the game.
Zachary watched the game on the sidelines from the dugout. He was seated at the furthest end from the team officials with his focus scattered, his mind brimming with nervous anticipation. His toes were itchy to kick the ball after watching the opening minutes of the match.
"Damn it." He heard Coach Johansen curse for the umpteenth time during the first half.
Zachary cast a glance towards him and noticed he was rubbing his bald head in frustration.
He empathized with him.
Jonas Svensson, the short right-winger, had just attempted to find the head of Mushaga with a promising cross into the box. However, one of the defenders of the Viking under-19s outjumped the forward and averted the threat.
Stalemates were the worst nightmare for a coach. Although Rosenborg seemed to be in control—with higher ball possession, the match situation could change at any moment. It would take only one goal for Viking to flip the tables upon the Troll Kids. Zachary had watched Greece win the Euro of 2004 in such a fashion.
And his predictions came true when the Viking Stavanger coach made two substitutions at the start of the second half. He brought in two players.
One was a right-winger—named Yann-Erik, with quick feet and an uncanny ability to leave his opponents in the dust. The other was a black muscular player who came on for one of the central midfielders. He was called Landu-Landu by his teammates. Zachary noticed that the man's chest muscles were bulging through the blue jersey and his exposed biceps balls of strength. He was a strong man.
When the two entered the game during the 47th minute, they immediately made an impact.
Landu-Landu marked Ole tightly and put a stop to his control of the game. He stuck to him and shadowed his every move, leaving him with no opportunity to receive and pass the ball.
With the control tower of Rosenborg frozen, the Viking under-19s came alive.
Teasing balls started flying in from the wings towards their two strikers. In the right-wing, Yann-Erik—the substitute could cross with either foot or cut in and threaten the goal. It seemed like he'd complete freedom to switch wings as he wished. He played as a winger on both sides of the pitch and a third striker at the same time.
He tortured the Rosenborg right and left-backs immediately after coming on to the pitch.
On the sidelines, Zachary wondered why such a player had remained obscure in his previous life. Yann-Erik had the flair, speed, and vision of a top number-7.
Yann-Erik cemented his influence on the game in the 54th minute. The Rosenborg midfielders were exchanging neat passes and waiting for an opportunity to start an attack but made a mistake and lost possession. Landu-Landu picked up the ensuing misplaced pass in the center circle and sent forth a lofted long pass towards the right-wing.
Like the wind, Yann-Erik ran onto the pass and dribbled past Christoffer Aasbak—the left-back of Rosenborg. His agile footwork was splendid as he accelerated towards the box. A few seconds later, he was bearing down on goal—and rifled a right-footed shot into the corner of the net.
0:1. Viking FK was in the lead.
"Damn! Damn!" Zachary heard Coach Johansen cursing while the Viking under-19s celebrated. Rosenborg had dominated the game but was a goal down with thirty-two minutes to go.
Coach Johansen seemed frustrated. He looked towards the bench at Emil Røkke first and then Zachary Bemba, his eyes portraying his indecisiveness. He seemed to be considering which of the two midfielders he should bring on.
Zachary waited anxiously for the coach's decision. He understood that he would have more chances to perform, only when he entered the game early.
Coach Johansen sighed and said: "Zachary. Go, warm up first. You have only five minutes. Come here for instructions once you finish."
[Finally.] Zachary jubilated inwardly. He released a breath of pent up air before saying: "Yes, coach."
Call him sadistic, but he was even a little bit glad that his team was losing. Otherwise, he might have gotten less than ten minutes of play. He needed a game where he could make an impact. And the one where his team was losing was his best stage to impress the coaches.
For more, visit
"Your job in this match is simple. I need you to shut down that winger." He said, pointing towards Yann-Erik.
The winger had just picked up another pass and begun dribbling into Rosenborg's half. He crossed the ball into the box from the side of the pitch, close to the touchline.
Luckily, Fredrik Midtsjö, one of the midfielders of Rosenborg, jumped high and blocked his cross. The referee blew his whistle and pointed to the corner flag.
"Tell Ole to adapt to the 4:3:3 formation..." the coach continued after seeing that the corner had been defended." As we did in training, Ole will remain the defensive midfielder, while Gjermund will move a little bit forward and serve the strikers. You'll have free rein along the entire center-line to get a better handle on Yann-Erik."
He gazed at Zachary for a moment with eyes full of skepticism.
"Is that clear to you, or do you need me to get the board?" He asked. The coach seemed to doubt Zachary's abilities to understand his instructions.
Zachary locked eyes with the coach and replied emphatically: "Yes, coach. I understand."
"Hope so," the coach muttered under his breath.
"You were tackling and intercepting passes during our training sessions. Just do the same on the pitch and shut down the damn kid." He slapped Zachary on the back, adding: "Go."
"DING"
No sooner had the coach slapped his back than the system interface popped up before him.
Zachary was a bit surprised and slowed down his pace as he matched towards the fourth official. He cast a glance at the translucent screen and noticed that there was a new mission from the system.
G.O.A.T MISSIONS
#NEW MISSION: Your Coach has given you an important task(s).
Task 1: Shut down a stubborn player in the game.
Task 2: Impress and gain your first fans.
--
'Accept' 'Reject'
--
Rewards:
- 30 juju-points
--
Punishment in case the mission is still incomplete at the end of the game. (None if you reject the mission now)
-Minus 40 Juju-Points.
--
Remarks: Opportunities don't happen. You create them.
Zachary didn't hesitate to click on the accept button once he had finished perusing through the contents of the mission. It was the first mission with a hefty reward in juju-points. He had a feeling he would need them very soon.
Zachary had resolved to accumulate more points to upgrade the system. From his experience reading web-novels, he knew the system would become more helpful to the host after an upgrade.
Kristin was watching the game in the emptier section of the Stadium. The match had begun boring her after the Rosenborg under-19s got into a tricky situation.
She hated losses and always felt the compulsion to leave the venue of the game whenever her team was trailing. But then, she noticed that Zachary had started warming up on the sidelines.
A Cheshire cat's grin lit up her face like a tallow candle in a paper lamp. She considered him her first project, the first player she'd discovered at the genesis of her career as a scout. Kristin was looking forward to seeing how he would perform pitted against the Norwegian under-19s. Only then would she cast away all doubts about his talent.
"Is that your boy?" She heard Coach Nils Eggen asking her grandpa.
He was Rosenborg's longest-serving manager, having led the team for 22 seasons in five spurs between 1971 and 2010. He'd won the Tippeligaen in his inaugural season, leading the team for 13 of the club's 23 league-winning seasons. He had just won another league championship the previous year.
Although he was about to retire, Nils Eggen still had a lot of influence on Rosenborg's management. Kristin had once heard some rumors that his standing was comparable to that of the club chairman.
"Yes, that's him," Mr. Stein answered Coach Eggen's question.
"Oh, okay," Mr. Eggen replied before returning his attention to the match.
Zachary entered the pitch after the ball went out for a throw-in.
He'd come into the pitch as a substitute for another midfielder named Fredrik Midtsjö.
He jogged, resisting the pressure mounting on his chest. His legs felt heavy like he was wading through water. He felt very anxious since it was his first time playing on the European soccer stage.
He immediately ran to Ole and passed him the coach's instructions before moving to the left-midfield closer to the position of Yann-Erik—the winger of the Viking team.
He had resolved to complete the coach's assignment with all his effort. That was the only thought running through his mind at that moment.
In his previous life, he'd blundered when he came on as a substitute during his first professional match at TP Mazembe. He hadn't followed the coach's instructions and was substituted quickly after. He'd made a record of being the first substitute in the Linafoot league to be replaced without an injury.
But with a second chance presented to him, he would follow the coach's instructions to the letter. He wanted to enter the team first and establish his status. That was his target for that match. He would think about the issues concerning his style of play and career only when he successfully signed the contract with Rosenborg.
Gameplay resumed with Viking's throw to the right-wing.
Yann-Erik received the ball and played a one-two with Landu-Landu. They advanced towards the Rosenborg goal, weaving their way past Markus Henriksen, the left-winger, and were soon inside Rosenborg's half. Their short passes were neat and accurate, allowing them to advance towards the Rosenborg goal, unhampered. If the status-quo didn't change, Rosenborg would be in trouble.
However, Zachary had no intention of allowing them to do as they pleased. He'd noticed some shadows of both balls and human silhouettes flashing out of their bodies into different directions. The Zinedine-Visual-Juju was in action once more.
Zachary ran towards the wing while concentrating on Yann-Erik's sprinting figure. The winger had just received the ball and was dashing past Christoffer Aasbak, Rosenborg's left-back, with a flair of sidesteps.
Zachary then saw two human-shaped shadows flash out of the agile winger's form. One headed towards the corner flag after beating Christopher. The other cut the pitch diagonally—dashing towards the Rosenborg goal.
Zachary didn't need to deliberate for long about which route to defend. He had watched Yann-Erik's plays while he was on the bench and was sure that he would decide to cut inside. Moreover, if he got it wrong, he could still push the winger on a path away from the goal.
However, even the one second of deliberation on his part had allowed the agile winger to move past him. Zachary resolved to take the defender out without any delay.
Tunnel vision set in as he gauged the distance between the ball and his feet. Zachary's soccer brain, enhanced by his high A spatial awareness, was filled with deductions of the speed at which Yann-Erik was traveling. He was gauging the timing of his tackle.
Zachary increased his pace and caught up to the right-winger before sliding in and thrusting his right leg to meet the ball at the winger's feet.
He used his tackling leg to hook around the front, dispossess the ball, and shove it away from the attacker. The very smooth grass of the pitch made his tackling easier as he sent Yann-Erik tumbling to the ground.
Zachary felt all his anxiety fade as the ball broke away into open space before being collected by Christopher, the left-back. He'd come out as the winner in his first face off against an opponent in Europe.
"Ref... Ref..." Zachary heard Yann-Erik yelling as he rolled around in the grass, seemingly injured. However, the referee ignored him and waved for the game to continue. The tackle wasn't a foul since Zachary had won the ball fair and square before sweeping the winger. Otherwise, the nearby linesman would have waved his flag already.
Zachary grinned at the young winger before moving back into the left midfield. He intended to use all means possible to keep the prolific winger out of the game. Smiling at his defeated opponent after their brief battle was the best way of gloating he could think of that wouldn't attract the wrath of the referee.
For more, visit
As the game progressed, it became apparent to Kristin that Yann-Erik was losing his influence in the game. His every run into Rosenborg's half was interrupted by Zachary. The African boy was doing a good job even in the defensive role of the midfield.
Zachary didn't just mark the winger tightly and shadow his every move like what Landu-Landu was doing to Ole. He would move quickly into position when Rosenborg lost the ball and place himself between Yannick and his team's goal. When the winger ran ahead of him, he would use a sliding tackle to sweep away the ball.
His free reign in the midfield allowed him to help both wings when the Viking under-19s were attacking. The game reverted to a stalemate in the midfield after he stopped the runs of the agile winger.
Rosenborg played well with their wingers moving forward and flanking Mushaga, the formerly lone central striker. The two wingers were using their speed on the wings before cutting in towards the goal. They managed to threaten the Viking goal several times but were unable to seal the deal and score.
The 4-3-3 formation was working out well for the Troll Kids of Lerkendal.
But what worried Kristin the most was the score. The Rosenborg under-19s were still a goal down, yet the clock hand was already approaching the 80th minute.
If Rosenborg didn't score in the next few minutes, they would lose the game. That wouldn't look good on Zachary's CV and might affect his confidence.
"Your boy seems to be good at defending." She heard Coach Eggen say. "He has very sharp instincts and is reading the young winger like a history book. He would make a good center-back."
Mr. Stein sighed before saying: "That's not why I brought him to Rosenborg. He has something else—even much better?"
"Really?" Coach Eggen seemed surprised.
"Yes." Mr. Stein nodded. "He hasn't even displayed a quarter of his abilities. Coach Johansen is just using him in a position that doesn't suit him."
"What is his natural position?"
"The midfield," Mr. Stein replied. "But he should be in the attacking role rather than the defense. His passing abilities are simply phenomenal. He might even be better than Ole."
"It has been long since I heard you rate a player that highly." Coach Eggen smiled. "Now my interest is piqued," he added before returning his focus on the game.
As the match progressed, a chant grew from the stands behind Rosenborg's goalposts until it was a full-blown war song intended to fuel the performance of the Rosenborg players.
"Ohh. Shalalalalalala..., oh Rosenborg..." The fans sang as they jumped and danced to the rhythm defined by the clapping of their hands.
Zachary, on the pitch, was impressed by the passion of the Nordmenn in support of their team. The cheers of the fans excited his zeal to perform at his best and win the game.
He looked around and started observing the entire width of the pitch. The Viking keeper was about to take a goal-kick. The ball had just gone out after another failed attempt at goal by Rosenborg. The forwards of the Troll Kids had already missed more than a dozen clear chances to score.
The Viking goalkeeper kicked the ball high and sent it deep into Rosenborg's half. One of the center-backs of Rosenborg headed it back high into the midfield—towards Zachary's position.
He was the only one with any space to receive the ball since the Viking under-19s were marking all the other midfielders tightly. It seemed they had taken him for a mere defender with no ability to attack and left him unmarked.
Zachary shot forward and leaped up towards the incoming ball. He controlled it with his chest as a shiver erupted through his body. His feet hit the ground—and he took off towards the other half of the pitch.
He'd just noticed a clear white line running from his position through the pitch—towards the opponent's box. His A game-intelligence attributes (spatial-awareness and risk assessment) had just made him aware of a safe route to run with the ball. Zachary was determined to exploit the gap left by the Viking players in between the midfield.
Sweat poured down his face as his heart pounded in his chest. His lungs screamed for air as his feet flew across the green towards the box of the Viking team.
Two defenders in blue jerseys sprang in front of him. Zachary slowed down his pace a little before faking to the left but then accelerating and moving to the right with the ball remaining close to his feet. His dribbling was not anything fancy, just an occasional change of pace in his long strides allowing him to weave past the defenders. Zachary simply slowed down, getting the defenders to relax a second, then took off like the wind.
He managed to wriggle past the two defenders and continue towards the goal, shrugging off one chasing player before getting past two incoming sliding challenges.
Zachary unexpectedly found himself stepping into the 18-yard box with only one defender between him and the goalkeeper. A deft touch took him around the defender before he fired the ball in from an acute angle. He had nothing else in his vision but the goal.
However, he noticed the fingertips of the keeper brushing the ball and shoving it a little higher off its intended path. His heart leaped into his throat as he regretted not going for a carpet shot instead of a looped ball.
[Please go in.] He prayed inwardly.
However, his mood sank when he saw the ball hit the crossbar and rebound back into the pitch.
By reflex, Zachary turned around to chase it.
Then out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mushaga pounce on the loose ball near the penalty spot—and fire off a low shot into the middle of the empty net. Goal. 1:1.
The Rosenborg under-19s had managed to equalize in the 82nd minute.
For more, visit
The cheers erupted like an auditory volcano in Lerkendal Stadium.
It was all quiet one second and then deafening after Mushaga scored the goal.
Mushaga didn't celebrate alone but ran up to Zachary, pulled him in a bear hug, and said: "That was a hell of a sprint. Thank you."
Before Zachary could reply, the other Rosenborg players came jumping on them and embracing them to celebrate the goal.
Zachary's lips curled into a smile as he tried to suppress his still bubbly emotions. It was all coming back to him at that moment. His crazy run through the midfield had led to an equalizer. He wasn't even sure how he managed to dribble past the four Viking players.
"Zachary, Ole. Come here." Zachary heard Coach Johansen yelling from the sidelines.
Zachary wasn't worried that the coach would query him for previously leaving his position. Scoring and winning games mattered the most to coaches. They would support players who could spot the gaps in between the opponent's formation and exploit them. Zachary had done just that.
And indeed, the coach had called them to receive more instructions on how to win the game. He didn't even reflect on the goal but started giving them new instructions.
"You two will form a triangle with Asen in the midfield. In the remaining seven minutes, I want you to press them hard and get another goal. Understood?"
"Yes, coach," the two boys replied.
"And Zachary. Do not try to dribble through the midfield once again. The Viking players will mark you tightly for the rest of the game. Use short passes instead."
Zachary nodded to indicate his assent. He chugged down some water before returning back to the pitch.
The Rosenborg under-19s were on fire after the game restarted.
Zachary followed Coach Johansen's instructions and used only short passes instead of dribbling.
Together with Ole and Asen, they formed a triangular midfield that dominated the ball possession. Zachary was much more involved in the passing and attacking than in the first half.
His only task was to receive passes from Ole, the defensive midfielder, and supply them to the one striker and the two wingers. The Viking midfielders couldn't keep him in check.
Zachary had managed to deliver several good through passes to the three forwards, but they still failed to score.
"As you said, the boy has a good game reading," Coach Eggen observed.
"Yes, he does," Mr. Stein replied, smiling. "Do you think we can fix him into the current under-19 squad?" He asked.
"How old is he?"
"His 16th birthday is on the 3rd of December."
"Martin." Mr. Eggen frowned. "He is still too young. We can't bring him into the club yet."
"But..."
"Martin, no buts." Coach Eggen interrupted the scout.
"While you were missing in action, FIFA introduced a new regulation. It prohibits international transfers involving underage players starting this year."
"Do those FIFA rules really matter? Clubs like Barcelona and Atletico Madrid in Spain have already signed young talents from all over the world this year."
"This time, they're serious about enforcing the regulations. If we don't comply and sign a minor, who's a foreigner, we'll be risking a transfer ban that could last a couple of seasons."
"That serious?"
"Yes." Coach Eggen nodded. "We received the first notice about the regulation last year. You were still in the hospital then."
"Then, how do we handle the boy? As you can see, he is very talented. We can't lose him."
"We'll send him to an affiliated academy until he turns eighteen. NF Academy is a good choice. FIFA will have no grounds to question us, as long as he is exclusively an amateur player. He will be on a scholarship, studying in one of the upper secondary schools here in Trondheim."
Coach Eggen smiled and added: "We basically won't have any association with him until he is an adult. We can include him in our roster when he turns 18. That's just a season away."
Mr. Stein sighed. "This regulation will mess up the opportunities of many talents from the developing nations. They will most likely waste away without proper training."
"You should already know about the previous cases of unscrupulous agents and organizations that were exploiting young talents from the developing nations. FIFA intends to reduce the number of children sent away by their families at the risk of being abandoned in Europe by such idiots."
"I already promised him that he would get to join the under-19s if he performed well in the match."
"Don't worry," Coach Eggen said, smiling. "The boy will be in good hands. The period until he turns 18 will allow him to refine his techniques further. This will be good for his development."
"I hope so." Mr. Stein sighed before focusing back on the match.
The game was still at a stalemate, with two minutes, minus additional time, remaining.
Rosenborg was always on the attack, pressing the Viking under-19s in their half.
Jonas Svensson had just delivered a tricky cross into the box. However, it had been cleared out of play by one of Viking's center-backs.
It was another goal-scoring opportunity from a corner for the Rosenborg under-19s.
Most of Zachary's teammates headed into Viking's box to attack the ball from the corner. Soon, more than 16 players were tangling within the box as they waited anxiously for the corner to be taken. Most were pushing and pulling at the shirts of their opponents.
The referee only managed to keep them in check by giving out yellow cards to two of the Viking players.
Zachary remained back—just a few yards out of the box. He didn't join the fray. He wanted to try out his arrow shot from the edge of the box.
But then he heard Coach Johansen yelling from the sidelines: "Zachary, head into the box and attack the corner. Why are you sleeping outside the box?"
Zachary hesitated, wanting to remain in his position. He could easily take a shot at the goal from there.
"Are your ears filled with lint? Head over into the box right now," Coach Johansen hollered at him, seeming angry.
Zachary sighed and headed into the box after a few seconds of deliberation. He would rather lose the game than antagonize a coach at the start of his career in Europe.
Zachary would have stayed in his position if he was sure that he would score from the edge of the box.
However, the Zinedine-Visual-Juju wasn't 100% perfect. It involved some guessing and deducing the path of the ball based on the observation of the juju-shadows and his game intelligence. If Zachary disobeyed the coach and missed out on scoring, he would be in deep trouble.
When he entered the box, a tall Viking player was instantly on him, shadowing his every step. Zachary ignored him and concentrated on Jonas, the winger, taking the corner at that moment.
Since he was already in the opponent's box, he wanted to try his best to score.
However, the cross from Jonas Svensson was nothing special. The ball came in high and was directly heading into the outstretched arms of the leaping goalkeeper.
The opportunity seemed lost—and players of both sides started relaxing.
But Zachary wasn't among them.
He'd just noticed that the hands of the Viking goalkeeper were in a peculiar position. The keeper was aiming for the contour catch, whereby his hands could cradle the ball, with the thumbs and index fingers forming a "W" behind it. However, the gap between his wrists was slightly wider than the diameter of the ball.
Any other player would have missed the small detail, but not Zachary. Using his Zinedine-Visual-Juju, he'd already deduced that the keeper would drop the ball.
So he moved in for the kill.
He ran away from his marker—towards the Viking goalkeeper.
And his vision didn't disappoint him.
The keeper ended up mishandling the ball, allowing Zachary to pick up the round gift before slotting it into the back of the net to make it 2:1. GOAL!
A terrible mistake by the keeper had led to the goal.
Kasongo watched his friend score his first goal in Europe.
He was cheering along with the rest of the enthusiastic fans in the stands behind Rosenborg's goal. They pumped their fists into the air as they soared to new heights of emotion.
Zachary's goal had shocked him since it came out of the blue, from a seemingly lost chance.
His achievement made Kasongo want to get on the pitch, to train. If Zachary could do it, so could he. Maybe not at first. But with relentless training and determination, he would succeed.
Kasongo wished to go back and train right away. However, he wanted to see whether his friend could do any more wonders in the game.
He continued watching the game until it ended with the score of 2:1 in favor of Rosenborg.
For more, visit
The sun had sunk lower in the sky, the light of day draining away, giving way to the velvety dark of night.
Zachary walked back home with his shoulders drooping, his brows creased, and his face tense as he replayed his conversation with Mr. Stein after the match.
He'd just learned he wouldn't be able to join the professional soccer stage until he was 18. That implied he still had a year and a few months before he could obtain his player's license to play in Norway.
The bureaucrats, based in Zürich, had decided to enforce a new regulation to prohibit the transfer of youth talents from developing Nations, claiming to be protecting the rights of minors. Zachary wondered how the rights of the prospective players would be protected when some had nothing to eat in their home countries. He was disgruntled.
With FIFA's new rules, there was not a chance that he could receive a license before he became an adult. Zachary remembered that some of the top clubs, such as Barcelona, had incurred the wrath of the world's football governing body because they'd signed minors during his previous life.
[Seems like I'll have to delay my plans for a bit.] He mused.
Zachary had hoped to join the under-19s after having a good game that day. He would have then gotten a lot of playing time and built up his skills and experience in official matches. But all that was no longer possible due to the damn FIFA rule.
[Maybe, I can focus on my personalized training during the period before I turn pro.] Zachary sighed.
He'd been keen on training some new skills which would benefit his career. However, he had always been busy preparing for the trial in Lubumbashi and then his move to Norway. However, he now had plenty of time to hone his skills.
With the facilities present in Trondheim, he could upgrade his fitness and refine his techniques to a higher level. His goal was to turn most of his attributes into A-grades within a year. With a system that could help along the way, he was confident that he would turn into a monster by the time he debuted for Rosenborg.
Occupied by his plans, Zachary made it to Moholt a few minutes later. He was already feeling better, regaining his post-match jubilant mood, after the short walk through the cold evening air.
As he was about to enter his apartment, he was surprised to hear several unfamiliar voices from behind the door. It was always just him and Kasongo in the kitchen, especially during the evening.
He opened the door only to find two blonde Caucasians seated on one side of the dining table. Kasongo was comfortable in one of the other chairs, engaged in a chat with them.
"Wow, there comes our star," one of the Caucasians, with brown hair, exclaimed once he noticed Zachary standing in the doorway. He stood up and rushed to Zachary before extending his hand for a handshake. "Nice to meet you. I am Paul Otterson." He grinned.
Zachary returned the handshake. "Zachary Bemba. Nice to meet you too." He looked towards Kasongo for clarification. He wanted to know who the strangers in their apartment were.
Paul Otterson noticed his confusion and beat Kasongo to a reply. "We're your other two housemates." He laughed. "I'm in room 1, and Kendrick, over there, is in the other room."
"Oh," Zachary said. "So, you are the two academy players from Sweden?" He was enlightened. Mr. Stein had mentioned something about their housemates from Sweden being away on holiday.
Zachary was surprised. The boy before him looked more like a movie star rather than an athlete. His short light brown hair was particularly curly and artfully tousled, matching his arched brows and sharp cheekbones that were perfectly angular. He seemed like one of those pretty-boy types in teenage romance movies to Zachary.
"Yes, that is us," Paul replied, pointing at his pointed nose. His square chin, coupled with his small eye slits, combined to create intense facial expressions—like he was peeved about something all the time. However, the boy seemed like he was the more cheerful and fun-loving person among the two Caucasians.
"We have been in Trondheim for a year already. We had just gone on holiday. I watched your game—and your run was simply magic. How did you manage to do it?" He asked.
Before Zachary could reply, the other Caucasian cut in. "Paul. Give the guy a break. He's just from a match. He should be tired."
He stood up and moved towards Zachary. "Kendrick Otterson. Nice to meet you," he said, extending his hand. The Swede looked like one of those Zenned-out folks, the modern-day hippie types, with his long shoulder-length brown hair loosely framing his face. His scruffy beard did much to help the impression along. His downcast ocean blue eyes and his quiet, thoughtful demeanor, seeming to communicate a certain innocence about his person.
"Nice to meet you." Zachary returned his handshake, nodding. "You two are brothers?" He asked.
Both had ocean blue eyes and shared a common last name. But their other traits were nothing alike. Kendrick was taller—about six feet, and more muscular than Paul. Zachary couldn't easily confirm whether they were close relatives from just their looks.
"Yes, we are," Paul was quick to answer. "Do we look alike?" He asked, putting an arm around Kendrick's broad shoulders. The latter pushed him away before returning to his seat.
"Such a bore," Paul mumbled, shaking his head like an aged man.
He turned to face Zachary and asked: "Have you eaten?"
"Nope," Zachary replied. Since Mr. Stein had summoned him right after the match, he didn't get time to eat the post-match snacks with the team.
"Great." Paul clapped his hands excitedly. "Let's eat together. I've cooked Lasagna." He announced.
Fifteen minutes later, the group of four settled on the four-seater dining table to have their dinner. Zachary was surprised to find the lasagna cooked by Paul delicious. The salty pasta layers it had, spiced up by the hot sauce, was simply amazing. Its scent was simply intoxicating and mouth-watering when Zachary cut apiece off and shoved it into his mouth.
Kasongo, the outspoken boy, took a bite of the lasagna, cheesy with dark leafy greens. He smiled, "Paul, that's so good."
With a boyish grin, the Swede raised his brows, opening up his eyes, "Obviously. Any food I touch is a work of art." He emphasized. He seemed like one of those narcissistic pretty boys who usually bullied people in high school movies. "So, the two of you are from Africa?"
"Yes," Kasongo replied after swallowing a mouthful of food. "The Democratic Republic of Congo, to be specific," he emphasized, smiling.
"Is that near Didier Drogba's country?"
Zachary's mouth twitched noticeably after hearing Paul's question. DR Congo was thousands of miles away from Ivory Coast. He wondered how a person would ask whether the two were neighbors.
"Hell, no." Kasongo shook his head. "Congo is at the center of the African Continent, bordering countries like Sudan, Uganda, and Tanzania."
"Haven't heard of any player from there," Paul mumbled. "But I know Uganda. Was it the country in the Last King of Scotland?"
"Yes, we border Uganda, the country in the movie," Kasongo concurred. "So, which positions do you two play?" Kasongo skillfully diverted the topic away from his home country.
"I play as a forward and a winger," Paul replied before looking towards Kendrick—who was quietly eating his food. The boy had been silent for a large part of the evening.
"Goalkeeper," Kendrick answered after noticing that his brother was glancing at him.
Zachary couldn't recall any players with the name Otterson—who played the two positions on the Swedish team during his previous life. They were probably not famous in his past life.
"What about you?" Paul turned towards Kasongo.
"I can play on any wing," Kasongo replied.
"Are you as good as Zachary?" Paul asked, his eyes looking expectantly at Kasongo.
"Not yet." Kasongo sighed, smiling ruefully. "But I'll be in a short time."
"That's the spirit, brother." Paul nodded. "I'm the same. I want to join the Rosenborg under-19s as soon as possible. By the way, Zach, which number did you get on the Rosenborg team?" He looked at Zachary, seated opposite him. Kendrick and Kasongo also glanced at him with their eyes glittering with expectation.
"I haven't yet joined the under-19s..." Zachary explained the whole FIFA regulation about not allowing foreign under-18 players to obtain a professional license away from their home country.
"Damn! That's unfair." Kasongo shouted when he heard Zachary's narrative.
"Don't worry about the license for the meantime," Paul consoled. "We have been here for over a year, and yet we have no prospects of receiving a license before we turn 18. Scandinavian Clubs are very strict, especially with rules concerning minors."
"But be assured that your time here will pass very fast," Paul continued. "You'll have to attend the mandatory secondary school education here in Trondheim while also undergoing the hectic day to day training in the academy."
"You two are in upper secondary. Right?" Zachary asked.
"Yes," Paul replied. "We are attending the Trøndelag International School. It is the school where the NF academy sends its students for their academic education. The coaches will most likely send you there after you complete the academy registration procedures."
"Do we have to pass all the subjects to stay in the academy?" Kasongo asked, frowning.
"Yes." Paul nodded emphatically. "You have to at least perform above average to stay on scholarship. But don't worry. The school designs our learning timetables to fit our training schedules. It has a collaborative initiative with Rosenborg to train young football talents in Trondheim."
The Swede went on to explain the schedules of training at the academy to Zachary and Kasongo. In addition to the daily routine soccer training, the players had a chance to participate in international training camps and under-17 competitions if they performed well. The NF Academy team had even participated in the SIA Cup of Valencia and the Riga Cup of Latvia during the previous year. At such competitions, there were junior teams of the top clubs like Manchester City, Valencia, and PSV participating.
Zachary was pleased with the offered packages by the academy and could not wait to start his training.
After the hearty meal with his new housemates, he headed back to his room to rest for the night and prepare for the academy registration the next day. He was already dosing as the match had tired him out.
Just out of habit, he opened the system interface to check out his mission completion status for that day's match. But when he opened the G.O.A.T-missions tab, his eyes widened in shock as he perused through its contents.
For more, visit
#8 new messages
CONGRATULATIONS
- You have completed the mission (Important tasks from Coach Johansen).
--
-Mission-Rewards
1) 30 Juju-points
--
-Mission Summary
Task 1: Shut down a stubborn player in the game. (Complete shutdown achieved; Rating S)
Task 2: Impress and gain your first fans. (Staunch fans gained = 16; Casual fans gained = 721; Rating S)
--
Overall Mission Rating: S
--
-Bonus rewards
You have earned 30 bonus Juju-points
--
Zachary had expected the completion grade to be an S. He'd toiled hard in the game, thereby producing an assist that led to an equalizer and scoring the winning goal. He expected an S rating for his match performance. However, what caught him by surprise was the message blinking in red below the mission completion notification.
CONGRATULATIONS
- You have completed the hidden-mission (Create match-winning opportunities during your first game in Europe).
--
-Mission-Rewards
1) One-year dosage of C-grade Physical Conditioning Elixir sent to system inventory (temporarily-unlocked).
--
-Mission Summary
Analysis: You played like a potential G.O.A.T and managed to grab on to the rare opportunities, leading your team to victory.
You executed the task so well and managed not to antagonize your Coach even though you continuously moved out of your position.
--
Match Statistical Rating: 9.2/10
Overall Mission Rating: S
--
-Bonus rewards
You have earned 30 bonus Juju-points
--
Zachary felt pumped, excited, and more alive after perusing through the G.O.A.T missions status tab.
He shook off all the drowsiness that had almost enveloped his psyche after taking a glance at the rewards. The additional 30 Juju-points were a handsome reward for him at that juncture. He then had a total of 107 Juju-points that were more than enough to level up the system. He couldn't wait to see how the system would evolve after leveling it up.
However, Zachary was not a very impatient person. He decided to first check out the Physical Conditioning Elixir before upgrading the system. The system's elixirs had played a key role in improving his soccer skills. He was optimistic about the new elixir's effects.
Zachary closed the G.O.A.T-Missions tab and opened the System-Shop.
SYSTEM SHOP
-Gift Packs (temporarily-unlocked) (2 msg)
-Purchase Skills (locked)
-Purchase Elixirs (locked)
-Lottery Coupons (locked)
-Inventory (temporarily-unlocked) (1 msg)
Both the Gift-Pack and Inventory tabs were blinking red. Zachary right away clicked on the former—as it contained descriptions and instructions on how to use the items from the system. Zachary sought to understand the usage of the Physical Conditioning Elixir before retrieving it from the system.
"DING"
GIFT PACKS (temporarily-unlocked)
#2 new messages
--
CONGRATULATIONS
-You have received a System Gift: One-year dosage of C-grade Physical Conditioning Elixir.
Each dose contains all the required macro and micronutrients to support the user's weekly high-intensity training.
The elixir can improve all aspects of physical fitness, depending on the training plan and intensity over the given period.
Please select the associated gift-card every week in the Inventory to retrieve the dosage of the elixir.
--
NB:
To receive the reward, the user must agree to complete the new system mission; Progressive Overload Fitness Training.
The user can only retrieve a new dosage after meeting the training requirements of the previous week.
The user must consume the doses within five seconds after removal from the system shop.
--
- If the user agrees with the terms and conditions, he can right away retrieve this week's dosage of the elixir from the Inventory.
--
Zachary bounced and hopped around his room on his flexing feet and rubbed his hands together after reading the system's message. His facial expression at that moment was that of a small child with an especially—large Christmas present. He could hardly contain his happiness.
The system's reward for the hidden-mission was what he desired to advance his skills and compete with the top professional players in the European leagues.
Zachary understood that soccer was one of the most physically demanding of all sports. His coaches in his previous life had always emphasized the importance of proper feeding when training. That was why most professional sports clubs employed food and nutrition specialists to monitor their players' diets.
Zachary needed to meet the required energy requirements of his long-term training plans to improve his physical fitness. Failure to meet those increased energy needs, especially with the recommended quality of nutrition, would significantly increase the risk of impaired training status. He would end up not getting the results he deserved from the training routines.
However, the system had saved Zachary from all that hustle by providing him with a dosage of Physical Conditioning Elixir. Moreover, it had also designed a mission that contained weekly tasks for his progressive overload fitness training. He no longer needed to wait and consult his coaches before beginning his fitness training. He only needed to follow the training plan of the system.
After calming down, Zachary closed the Gift-Pack tab and opened the system-inventory to retrieve his reward. A card with an image of a yellow banana filled up the screen once he opened the system-inventory. He didn't deliberate for long and just clicked on the gift card to retrieve his weekly dosage. He was already used to the system's elixirs being in the form of fruits.
"DING"
No sooner had he tapped on the gift card than the familiar system notification sounded in his mind as a description of a new mission populated the screen before him.
G.O.A.T MISSIONS
#NEW MISSION: One-Year Progressive Overload Fitness Training
Task 1: Run a distance of 35 miles within a week (10 miles must involve high-intensity running exercises in the outdoor environment).
Task 2: Complete 100 dumbbell (15 kg) squat-and-press routines (Click here to watch instructional video).
Task 3: Complete 60 single-leg-squats (30 for each leg) daily for a week (Click here to watch instructional video).
Task 4: Complete 60 push-ups daily for a week.
Task 5: Complete four rounds of half a dozen Hatha-Yoga poses daily for a week (Click here to watch instructional video).
--
Rewards:
- Next week's dosage of the C-grade Physical Conditioning Elixir
- 5 Juju-points
--
Punishment in case the mission is still incomplete after the stipulated time.
-Loss of a monthly dosage of the Physical Conditioning Elixir
--
Remarks: It takes sweat and determination to become a G.O.A.T since the only place where success comes before 'work' is in the dictionary.
--
-The user has to accept the mission before retrieving the reward.
Accept Reject
--
Zachary felt overwhelmed after perusing through the mission tasks. The physical training routines would take up roughly three hours of his time daily. Even worse, the exercises would expend much of his stamina and might even worsen the results of his technical soccer training at the academy. Too much of anything was good for nothing.
However, after thinking about the benefits of the C-grade Physical Conditioning Elixir, he right away clicked on the accept button. What was there to fear when he possessed the dietary booster from the system?
"DING"
The system notification sounded as the mission description disappeared and the gift card with the yellow banana once again appeared. Zachary didn't hesitate to click on it. A mini-sized yellow banana popped out of the card, into the physical world as soon as Zachary's finger left the translucent blue screen.
Zachary swallowed it right away.
For more, visit
Thursday, August 25, 2011.
A year had passed already, almost in a blur as Zachary underwent professional soccer training at the NF Academy.
He had managed to secure a full scholarship from the academy after the match against the Viking FK under-19s. Zachary was then an officially registered sports scholarship student in Norway.
His day usually started with physical fitness training each day, involving gym-work and running exercises, from 6 AM to 9 AM. He would then spend five hours at Trøndelag International School, going through his upper secondary education classes to maintain his sports scholarship. Luckily, the school days were only on weekdays, from 10 AM to 3 PM, and didn't tire him out.
Immediately after his classes, he would practice the agility and stamina drills in the NF training grounds near Moholt before attending the technical and tactical soccer classes conducted by the coaching staff on-field or in one of the auditoriums of the academy.
Zachary was usually as tired as a dog when he ended his day at 8 PM and headed back to his apartment to rest for the night.
His day-to-day timetable was jam-packed except for the small breaks at lunch and dinner or when he was sleeping. Zachary had been made aware of how gruesome a task it was to maintain a strict daily routine over a long time. He had almost failed the system mission during the harsh winter months of December and January.
Due to the extreme coldness, Zachary had lacked the motivation and zeal to wake up from bed and head to the gym or go jogging in those months. He only persevered due to the C-grade Physical Conditioning Elixir.
The elixir was beyond marvelous. With just a dose, Zachary would have enough energy to go through the physical training routines set-up by the system every week.
His weekly tasks often involved weight training—mostly with dumbbells, forward-backward sprints, lateral-band walks, medicine ball push-ups, among other routines. Occasionally, when he trained with either a pair of dumbbells or going through the fitness drills, he would feel his muscles strengthening and becoming more flexible. But most of the time, Zachary felt like he was only tiring himself out.
Nonetheless, he didn't stop his training. The significance of the progressive overload training designed by the system was cumulative—but not always obvious. He had maintained a strict schedule of completing all the system tasks to better himself as a professional sportsman. His goal was to become one of the best in his age group—by the time he debuted for Rosenborg.
On that day, Zachary was going through a routine of physical conditioning to complete the system mission when Coach Boyd Johansen abruptly barged in, surprising all the under-17s that were busy exercising.
"I can't believe that some of you haven't even mastered the basic dumbbell bench step-up exercise," Coach Boyd Johansen grumbled. He pulled at his overgrown red beard in frustration as he walked around the gym, supervising some of the under-17 group of players, exercising with the 25kg-dumbbells.
"The physical fitness coaches have already explained these exercises again and again over the past year," he continued. "You should by now be performing them by reflex. But I see several good-for-nothings who can't even complete a set of bench step-ups!" The coach exclaimed, shaking his head.
"Here comes the cranky old man," Paul Otterson, running on a treadmill close to Zachary, mumbled. "I wonder what he's doing here at this time."
"Shhhhh..." Kasongo, who was going through a dumbbell squat-and-press routine, sashed him. "Be careful. He may hear you. What awaits you then would be expulsion from the academy."
"Paul. You'll face dire consequences once you keep running your mouth like that." Kendrick Otterson, jumping a rope nearby, emphasized. His long brown hair lay like a second skin over his flushed cheeks—and he looked as if he was just—caught in a sudden storm. He wore the sweat from exercising the same way a hero wears rain.
Paul snorted at his brother. "Stop treating me like a kid. I know what I'm doing. He is busy with those other lazy bums and can't hear us."
"Suit yourself." Kendrick scowled at Paul angrily. "The good thing is that I already warned you multiple times. If the coach cuts you from the program, don't run back home crying." He harrumphed, continuing his rope skipping.
Zachary didn't break his exercising routine to listen to his flat-mates' bickering or his coach's grumbling. He was already used to that over the past year spent with them.
He continued his high-intensity interval training on one of the treadmills in the gym. The sweat cooled his skin and brought a deeper hue to his green jersey, yet that is how he knew everything would work out, that he would remain in good shape and proud of himself as an athlete.
"Zach!" Paul called out as he hopped off his exercising machine and approached Zachary's treadmill. "What are the sprinting speeds and resting intervals for the exercise you are doing?"
"I first set the treadmill at a speed of 2 mph for 5 minutes to warm up," Zachary answered without pausing his jog on the machine. "I then adjusted it to the highest speed at 9 to 10 mph for 70 seconds and later reduced to 3 to 4 mph for 30 seconds. I'll have to repeat the same routine 20 times to complete my training for today." He stammered as he gasped for breath.
"Zach! Aren't you overtaxing your body?" Paul asked, his brows creased. "You shouldn't be running at such peak speeds for more than 30 seconds. Will you be able to train in the evening?"
"Paul!" Kasongo cut in. "Man, leave him alone. The other day, he sprinted from Moholt to Lerkendal in eight minutes. That means he was covering roughly 400m per minute. Do you think that the simple running on a treadmill will faze him?"
"F*k!" Paul exclaimed. "This guy is a monster with such stamina. I'm just wondering why the coaches are not selecting him for the under-17 matches. FIFA wouldn't care whether he played for the academy. He's not part of Rosenborg and just a student studying in Norway." Paul whispered, moving closer to Kasongo. "Do you know why?"
"He doesn't say why!" Kasongo replied as he put down his dumbbells. "I think it is something to do with the arrangements of the Rosenborg officials. I'm guessing they don't want to expose him to their competitors before he joins the team. I would do the same if I were the coach. I would hate to lose him to some other team before he plays for me."
"The curse of being overly talented," Paul sighed. "Makes me hate FIFA rules even more. The guy should be on the bench of the first team already." He shook his head. "Kasongo! Are you done with your physical training for today?"
"Yes." The short guy nodded, picking up a bottle of water from his backpack. "We have been here since six o'clock. Three hours are enough for me." He grinned before chugging down some water.
"Don't you guys get tired of waking up at such early morning hours? We are only required to be here at 8 o'clock!"
"Man, I'm only trying to copy the training plan from my role model." Kasongo laughed, patting Paul's shoulder. "Although I can't match his crazy work rate, I'm still benefiting from following in his footsteps."
"Oh. Wake me up too when you guys are going for training next time," Paul said.
"Me too," Kendrick also chipped in as he joined the group.
"You want to wake up at six?" Paul laughed at his brother's request.
"I need to improve my fitness," Kendrick sighed. "Grant is already far ahead. He's benching me in all the games."
"Then, you'll wake up at six?"
"Yes." Kendrick nodded emphatically. "Don't look at me like that. I'm serious this time. I'll even be changing to a smaller mattress this week to prevent myself from oversleeping."
"I'll pray for you." Paul patted his brother's back. "I do hope you achieve your dream."
"A dream of waking up at six," Kasongo chimed in before bursting into laughter. Paul joined him. The two had tried to wake up Kendrick at seven o'clock in the morning multiple times. However, the lad would always be sleeping like a log.
"But Zach is a monster." Kendrick sighed, ignoring the irony of the two chatterboxes. "Where does he get all that stamina?" He exclaimed as he glanced towards Zachary's treadmill.
For more, visit
Zachary let himself step off the treadmill when the sweat settled on his skin as newly melted snow crystals. His legs were empty—and there was a rising feeling of nausea from his stomach.
It never ceased to amaze him how the muscles that had been working so hard only seconds ago were then struggling to hold his weight. He relaxed for a few seconds before jumping on the exercising machine once again to restart the high-intensity routine.
Zachary only had that single exercise remaining to complete the system mission he had been toiling with for over a year.
He was glad about the training plans designed by the system. The high-intensity interval-training mimicked the rhythms of a real football match—where a player might quickly switch between walking around the pitch and sprinting into the box.
He had been undergoing the routine for more than six months to condition his body to adapt to an efficient way of using oxygen and prepare for the sudden change of pace in games.
The system had been gradually increasing the frequency or number of repetitions in his running routines on the treadmill.
For instance, the system had assigned him the weekly task of 30-second high-speed sprints repetitions on the treadmill, spaced with 1-minute resting intervals during the first three months of the mission. The next months, the missions comprised shorter and shorter resting intervals to increase the exercising intensity.
Zachary continuously increased the stress on his musculoskeletal system to gain muscle size, strength, and endurance. And his efforts had paid off over the year of training. He was stronger physically compared to the previous year.
Zachary was sure that he could hold his own in a physical battle against the strongest Rosenborg under-19s. He was itching for an official match to test his skills.
Zachary had been in a good mood when his body was getting stronger as the months progressed. On a treadmill, he always felt fast up there, exhilarated. To feel his strength, to feel his own body flying at such speeds before slowing down, it fed back right into the soul and kept his inner flames healthy and bright.
"DING"
The system notification sounded when he was on his eighteenth routine of the high-intensity exercise. That was music to Zachary's ears as it indicated that he had finished the final task of the one-year progressive overload fitness training mission.
Before he knew it, Zachary was smiling a little, a smile with a twist to it, like the smile of a child who was determined not to weep. He was feeling the agony of the intensive exercise coupled with the happiness from completing the system mission. The two combined to bring him a sadistic euphoria.
However, he didn't pause to open the system interface. He continued running on the treadmill—until he completed the twenty routines of the high-intensity training for the day.
"Okay, boys. First, come here," Coach Johansen hollered from the stretching and mobility area of the gym. He was in his usual unique style outfit—in a baggy black Nike tracksuit.
"This is rare," Paul commented. "The coach is giving a talk early in the morning. There may be something important coming up."
"Like a match? Or more like the cutting of certain players!" Kasongo frowned.
"Stop speculating," Kendrick cut in. "Let's head over and see what he has to say." He turned towards Zachary—who had just stepped off the treadmill before asking: "Are you coming?"
"Of course." Zachary smiled. He reached out and took out a bottle of water from his backpack before chugging down some water. "Oh, that was refreshing." He sighed in between gasps of breath.
The three-hour exercising had already tired him out. But Zachary wasn't worried. He would recover his stamina in a few hours due to the dosage of the physical conditioning elixir he had consumed earlier that week.
"Let's go and hear what the coach has to say this time," he said to his flat-mates after he'd steadied his breathing.
"Is everyone here?" Coach Johansen asked, his gaze roaming across the sixteen players seated in the middle of the gym.
"Sir," Coach Bjørn Peters said. "I've already taken roll call—and everyone is here." He was a man of middling height with a stern face and deep-set eyes. His regular gym work-outs made his chest, arms, and shoulders laden with muscle making him resemble a bodybuilder instead of a soccer coach.
"Great." Coach Johansen nodded. "I'm glad you're now taking your physical training seriously. Had anyone been absent without reason, they would have faced the ax today."
"I hope it's a good morning for everyone here!" The Coach continued. "Moving on. You lot will be undergoing annual reviews in the next two weeks. We want to assess your progress over the past twelve months. So, we have organized two matches where you can showcase the fruits of your training for the past year."
"Next Friday, you play against the Rosenborg under-19 team combined with the reserves team. The Friday after that, you'll face off against the senior team of Rosenborg. Aren't you excited?" The coach grinned, glancing around the gym.
"Playing against the Rosenborg senior team for our review! How are we supposed to perform against experienced players? The academy officials are not serious..." The murmuring of the players intensified the already tense atmosphere in the gym.
"Quiet," Coach Johansen bellowed, creasing a brow. "This is an opportunity for you. The Rosenborg officials will be watching. You have a chance to make it into the Reserve team or even be spotted by the head coach. What are you afraid of?"
"As long as you have improved, you don't need to fear playing against the reserve or the senior team of Rosenborg," the coach continued. "We don't expect you to win, but to perform at your best even when facing players above your level. That will be a valuable experience for your budding football career."
The players around the gym settled down after hearing his peroration. Although they seemed to be worried, they couldn't force the coach to change the annual review. They just had to swallow their anger and anxiety.
But Zachary was different. He wanted to test his skills against high-level players. Only then would Zachary gauge his progress and determine whether his skills were already good enough to join the professional league. Moreover, he was hungry for matches since he hadn't played a single official game in a year.
"Coach!" One of the players raised his arm after the coach had finished making his announcement.
"Yes. You can ask your question, Martin." Coach Johansen nodded at the player.
"How many of the under-17s need to be cut from the team after this review?" The lanky, gangling boy asked.
"You know I can't tell you that." Coach Johansen grinned. "But we need very few players from your team to join the under-19 group. However, if you all play a shitty game, then you'll all be cut from the team. So, do your best."
"Any more questions?"
All the players remained silent.
"Okay, great." The coach smiled. "Let's meet at the NF training grounds at 3:30 PM today. We'll start our pre-match training then—so don't be late."
For more, visit
After the gym work-out, Zachary and his flatmates rode their bikes towards TIS—the Trøndelag International School.
He had gotten used to riding his bike outdoors for hours over the course of the past year. Riding a bike was liberating for him. It had become his go-to way of moving quickly through the streets of Trondheim.
"F*k! When will this rain stop?" Paul, who was riding beside him, cursed out loud as they rounded a corner and headed into a narrow tarmac road connecting Festningsgata main-street to their school.
The rain poured down from the white—velvety sky steadily and softly. The days in Trondheim were beginning to wane—as the inevitable cold winter neared, each nightfall happening sooner than the one before. The warm days of summer were long past.
"Stop complaining and just ride," Kendrick snapped from behind Zachary. "It's almost 10, and we're almost late for class."
"Okay, Okay," Paul yelled, glancing back at his brother. "Let's race to see who'll reach the school gate first. The loser cleans the bathroom this week." He grinned from ear to ear.
"Fellas, is it a deal?" He asked, bringing his bike to a sudden halt. The other three followed suit and braked beside him.
"Deal." Kasongo and Kendrick nodded in unison before readying themselves to start the race.
"What about you?" Paul turned towards Zachary as he fastened his jacket. The Swede was also preparing for the small race.
"I'll race," Zachary replied. "But no punishments or cleaning the bathroom for the loser. We have got to maintain a strict rotation of who cleans the apartment each week. That's the only fair way."
"Zach." Paul sighed. "You're no fun."
"Let's just race without the punishment," Kendrick cut in, concurring with Zachary.
"This time, I'm winning," Kasongo said, gripping the handlebars of his bike more tightly.
"You wish..."
"Guys," Kendrick interrupted, his tone impatient. "We need to get to school before class starts."
"Three, two, one... and go," Paul yelled before taking off and moving ahead of the others. The other boys followed suit. Their bicycle wheels rolled over the wet track, their speed bringing the cold rain splattering into their faces much harder than it would have if they had just walked. Their waterproof outer-wear had long failed at keeping their bodies dry, leaving their trunks as wet as their legs.
Their race through the rain managed to get them to the school gate in less than four minutes. Kendrick Otterson was first, his brother second, Zachary third, and Kasongo last.
Zachary never ceased to be amazed by just how fast his two Swedish housemates could go on their bikes though they were much slower than him on foot. He occasionally mused on how they might have been better off as professional cyclists rather than soccer players.
"I win again," Kendrick declared as they passed through the gate and entered the school grounds.
"My bike was not in the best condition." Kasongo sighed. "Otherwise, I would have covered the distance in less than a minute," he added in a serious tone. The others ignored him since it was not the first time he had blamed a loss on his equipment.
They rode quietly across the school grounds at moderate speed. The courtyard was a richly planted garden with walkways of smooth white stone set in several meandering paths across it. Due to the rain, no students were lounging at the benches, talking, reading, or eating packed snacks. It seemed they were all in the three buildings, 3-stories high, surrounding the expansive u-shaped courtyard.
Zachary parked his bike in the bike-room and removed his outer waterproof clothing. He then followed his flatmates through the large glass doors—into the building containing his classroom.
On the inside, a hubbub of conversation from the students hustling and bustling down the corridors assaulted him. They seemed to be in one of the ten-minute breaks at the end of each lesson. A crowd of vibrant young students of various nationalities filled up the hallways. The chaos was perfect, like a movie. Friends greeted each other with hugs—or playful punches while newcomers stood looking scared.
Most of the students gave way when Zachary and his flatmates passed through the hallway heading to the stairs at the far end of the building. Sports students on scholarship garnered a great deal of respect from their peers. Zachary had rarely faced any bullying despite being relatively new to the school.
But there were always exceptions to the norm.
As they ascended the stairs to the next floor, a group of students, one year their seniors, blocked their advance. Grant Anderson, the substitute goalkeeper of the Rosenborg under-19s, descended the stairs ahead of his small entourage of three, his lips curling into a wide grin.
"Well, well—what do we have here?" He said. "Two wannabees from a third world sh*thole accompanied by their two loser friends. What can I say? Rosenborg has fallen really far to list you as one of its potential players." His sycophants laughed at the comment like they had just listened to a funny monologue delivered by Eddie Murphy. Zachary wondered how a grown-up could find such nonsense funny.
"Here comes an idiot to mess up our day," Paul whispered. "I just don't get why the school doesn't expel him." He groaned.
"Ignore him," Kendrick said, his voice somewhat hushed. "With the backing of his father, he will never get expelled whatever he does."
Zachary didn't even pause his ascent to glance towards Grant. He had long gotten used to the constant insults from the tall Caucasian goalkeeper.
Followed by Kendrick, Zachary sidestepped the silhouette of the goalkeeper and continued ascending the stairs. He couldn't waste his valuable time on pointless quibbles with a jealous teenager.
Kasongo and Paul, though, stopped and glowered at Grant. The latter licked his lips and said in a crisp tone: "Grant, one of these days, I'll beat you up so bad that even your mama won't recognize you. Keep insulting me—and you'll get what's coming to you." The Swede harrumphed before moving past the goalkeeper.
"Kasongo!" Zachary turned back, looking towards the boy still squaring off against Grant, who stood at almost a foot taller than him. "Are you coming? We have less than ten minutes before the lesson begins."
Kasongo quietly ground his teeth in frustration before following Paul Otterson up the stairs.
"Cowards born as losers, to loser mommies," Grant scoffed, as Kasongo and Paul were only a few steps away from him.
The two paused midway up the stairs before turning back. "Say that again," Paul growled, clenching his fists.
For more, visit
Grant's smile widened as he walked closer towards them. "I said you're cowards, charity cases who are just being fed by Rosenborg here in Trondheim. One of you played a single game and thought he was the star of the generation. But, he is just a loser like the rest of his band." He grinned viciously at Zachary, who was already atop the stairs.
Zachary sighed audibly. He could not believe that a professional athlete with such an idiotic mindset existed in one of the top international academies of a developed nation.
Although Grant had already graduated from the NF Academy and joined the Rosenborg under-19s, he still behaved like a child. He had started taking verbal jabs at Zachary when he noticed him talking to Kristin before the match with Viking the previous year.
"Let's go," Zachary said, turning away from Grant and his cronies. "We need to get to class." Zachary felt angry, but he knew he had to ignore the fool. He had no intention of jeopardizing his sports scholarship.
"Why do you put up with his insults?" Kasongo asked once he fell into step by his side.
Zachary glanced at Kasongo and shook his head. The short boy was yet to be exposed to the ways of the world. "Let me ask you this," he said. "What would I gain from fighting or bickering with him?"
"You can defend your dignity and honor," Paul answered as they moved away from the stairs, through the hallway, and towards their classroom on the second floor.
Zachary smiled. "I can't live on either of those." He spread out his arms to emphasize his point. The others stopped pestering him once he gave them the reply. They remained quiet, seemingly in contemplation—until they entered their small but cozy classroom.
Reading tables with well-padded chairs were placed around a podium with a large blackboard that ran from corner to corner of one of the walls—painted light-green.
The rest of Zachary's classmates had already arrived. They stood in groups of twos and threes scattered all around the classroom.
"You guys are finally here," murmured a female voice, lisping slightly, drawling out consonants and vowels into an exotic Italian accent.
Zachary turned around only to lock eyes with a stunning young woman with dark hair worn in long braids that plunged over her slim shoulders. Her brown eyes smoldered with a sensuality that could easily capture the hearts of the stoniest of men. Her dark-green ruffled silk blouse could not conceal the lush curves of her cleavage while her denim jeans clung to her hips, accentuating the outlines of her thighs.
Paul, who thought himself a Casanova, nudged himself in-between Zachary and the girl and gave her a gallant little bow. "Good morning, Marta." His mannerisms mirrored the chivalry of knights in old medieval movies.
Marta Romano gave Paul an arch look and said: "Your bows are not the least bit amusing. You're turning into an old man."
"But a lovely old man," said a second voice—and a second beauty, indistinguishable from Marta except that she wore her hair in a ponytail. She looked like a supermodel in her fitting Rosenborg jersey. She hooked an arm over Paul's shoulder and added: "My sister is just cranky from yesterday's long piano practice."
"Good morning, Melissa," Paul murmured. "You look lovely as always."
Melissa's mouth curved up into a soft smile. "Thank you," she said. "But you two are late today."
"We had a meeting with our head coach after our morning practice," Paul answered, sounding cheesy. The beauty of the two Romano twins had long spellbound him.
"Zach! How was practice?" Marta said. She had moved around Paul and her sister to stand beside Zachary once again.
"Just the usual," Zachary replied, smiling. "How was your piano practice?"
The two girls were among Zachary's few classmates. They were both students at one of the music institutes in Trondheim. They also partook in classes with special programs for part-time students at TIS.
TIS was an international school that accommodated the needs of international students undertaking their education in Trondheim. Talented students from all fields could join the school for their secondary education.
"Same as usual," Marta replied, once again locking eyes with Zachary. "You are yet to fulfill your promise," she stated.
"Sorry about that." Zachary grinned sheepishly. He motioned for the girl to follow him away from the others. "Training has been taking up most of my time. I couldn't clear up time to do anything else." He added.
"When you come to me for discussions, I'll also claim to be busy with practice," Marta mumbled.
"Why don't we adjust our plans to the autumn break," Zachary said. "We'll have a lot of free time by then."
"Is that a promise?" Marta questioned, her tone solemn.
"Yes, it is." Zachary nodded emphatically.
"What are the two of you whispering about?" Melissa interrupted their conversation as she positioned herself beside her sister. "Are you two...?" However, before she could complete her question, the lecturer stepped through the door into the classroom.
"Settle down people—and let's learn some German," said the male lecturer, sounding dramatic.
Zachary spent the next three hours cramming German words and sentences he could not understand. At 1 PM, he ate a light lunch with his friends before sitting back in the classroom for algebra. Most of the students lost their vibrancy as the minutes passed. It was as if they were partaking in an intense 90-minute soccer game rather than a lecture.
Zachary was always bored by the equations and calculations during the math lessons. He would have preferred to spend all his time on the pitch rather than in a classroom. But, he persevered to maintain his scholarship.
Fortunately, the class only lasted an hour. At three, Zachary headed to the NF training grounds, where he started his long week prematch training with his teammates and coaches. He spent the whole evening there and only returned to Moholt at 8:30 PM after a sumptuous dinner at the soccer academy.
After freshening up, he returned to his room and opened the system interface. He was planning on making his first purchases from the system shop after saving up a considerable sum of Juju-points over the past year.
For more, visit