The heavy glass doors of the stadium groaned as William stepped inside, his heart pounding in his ribcage as he took in the cool air conditioned surroundings.
He wore his gear bag with pride as he knew today was the day he would prove to everyone that he was good enough to be here. He walked through the brightly lit corridors until he reached the locker room, the sounds of his
teammates chatter and the smell of muscle rub instantly filling his nostrils.
As he walked in everyone fell silent for a second before they all gave him warm smiles and nods of approval. The first to reach him gave him a firm clap on the back and a grin that made William's heart swell with pride.
"Look who's back on his feet!" the defender shouted before turning to face the others.
William gave the man a grin before walking to the middle of the room where Coach Lincoln was waiting. The man was frowning as he looked over some papers before his gaze landed on William's leg.
"How is your leg feeling, William? Tell me the honest truth because I need to know if you can actually play," Lincoln said before looking up at him with a mixture of concern and determination in his eyes. William gave a small smile before he did a few quick and nimble hops on the spot, rotating his ankle to show the coach there was no stiffness.
"I am very well for the match, Coach, and I feel even better than yesterday thanks to the treatment," William replied, his eyes full of determination so the man could see it. He wanted Lincoln to know there was no way he was going to sit this one out.
The coach gave a slow nod before he gestured for everyone to gather around the white board on the far wall, magnets and marker lines detailing the game plan. Lincoln began to talk, showing them how they would keep the ball in the middle and stretch Brentford with the wingers. Everyone was silent as they listened to him before he finally began to talk about the starting line-up.
"Up front we have Muller and Gabriel and in the midfield we have Fernandes leading the charge," he said, pointing at the whiteboard. He paused for a moment before looking at William, who was leaning forward in interest.
"William you will be starting on the bench today because I do not want to risk you getting injured in the earlyminutes of the game. The pressure will ease off in the second half and that is when I want you to come on and finish them off with your pace," Lincoln explained, his voice firm but his eyes soft with concern.
William's heart dropped into his stomach as he felt a wave of disappointment wash over him.
He opened his mouth to argue but the look on Lincoln's face told him the man was being serious. He swallowed the lump of pride in his throat before nodding his head in agreement, although his soul was screaming for him to disagree.
The team soon left the locker room and made their way to the emerald green pitch for their warm-up, the sheer size of the stadium making William feel small. As he stretched and jogged he looked over at the other side of the pitch where the Brentford players were doing their own warm-up.
His blood ran cold as he spotted a certain boy among the group, a boy with a sharp jaw and a sneer that had once tormented him in school. It was Jamal, the boy who had bullied him and made fun of his dreams of becoming a professional footballer. He had once told William he was a shadow and that he would never amount to anything but here they were, both standing on the pitch in rival kits. Jamal's eyes widened as he spotted William, his face
showing genuine surprise to see his old victim in a Blackpool kit before he quickly masked it with a smirk. They both ignored each other, turning their heads away as if they were strangers but the tension between them was noticeable. The warm-up soon ended and both teams made their way back to the locker rooms to change into their match kits. William pulled on his black and green kit before fastening the new boots his father had bought him,
"feeling like a warrior as they walked back out through the tunnel."
Whistle!!!!
The cheers of the crowd were deafening as the game began, the Brentford team quickly showing they were a force to be reckoned with. They battled for control of the ball and it was all William could do to keep up with them. In the 34th minute Jamal was in possession of the ball, the boy easily evading the Blackpool players as he made his way towards the goal. He looked like a panther as he used his body to shield the ball before suddenly using a quick leg sweep to get past one of the defenders, the man sprawling on the grass. Jamal then did a wonderful feint, his body moving like that of a boxer before he sent a well placed shot from outside the box, the ball curving and screaming into the top corner of the net.
Gooooaaallllll!!!!
The stadium erupted as the Brentford fans chanted Jamal's name, the boy beating his chest before pointing at the scouts and
directors in the VIP box, all of whom were scribbling notes down furiously. The club board and the scouts were all impressed with what they had seen so far, William feeling a wave of jealousy as he watched his bully get all the glory. The noise from the crowd was incredible as Blackpool tried to gain control of the game but it was no use, the Brentford defenders were too exhausted from trying to keep up with Jamal and the scouts were already talking amongst themselves. William sat on the edge of his seat, his fingers digging into the plastic as he wanted nothing more than to go out there and shut up Jamal for good.
The first half soon ended and the Blackpool players walked off the pitch, their faces sweaty and their heads hung in defeat as they made their way to the locker room. They all looked like they wanted to give up as soon as they walked in but that was not going to happen.
CoachLincoln looked up from the papers on his desk as he watched his players shuffle in before his gaze landed on William. He knew they were being outplayed and he needed someone to inject fresh energy into the game, someone who would fight for every ball and every inch of ground. He looked at the
young boy, his shinguards digging into his knees as he looked like a caged lion that was ready to pounce. Lincoln did not need to look at the whiteboard anymore because he knew what the game plan was.
"Everyone listen up!" he shouted, making the boys turn to face him. "We are being outplayed because we're playing with fear but the second half is a whole new game. William get your gear on and get ready to go in because I need your magic on that pitch right now," Lincoln said, his voice firm as he looked at the boy.
William's heart gave a huge leap of joy as he stood up, the feeling of happiness sending sparks of electricity through his veins. He looked at the coach and his teammates, a determined look crossing his face as he prepared to show the scouts, his father and most importantly Jamal that the boy who had once bullied him was now a man ready to take over the world.