lights buzzed, casting an uncomfortable glow over the locker room. The air was thick with sweat and anticipation, tension strikes within the players as they listened to their coach.
Ethan, a young left-wing rookie, sat on the bench, arms resting on his thighs. His black hair and bright red highlights at the back. His hair is damp and sweaty.
He has a lean body but well-built muscles, his toned arms and legs.
He listened half-heartedly as the coach, a middle-aged man with blonde hair and piercing green eyes. He laid out the game plan.
"You need to volley or short-pass to Alejandro," the coach instructed firmly. "No risks."
Ethan sighed, already knowing how this would play out.
Their plans were always predictable, easy to counter even.
He glanced over at Deshawn, a substitute forward. Deshawn, a tall, light skinned man, long curly hair tied up neatly, sighed as well, copying Ethan's frustration.
Leaning closer, Ethan whispered, "Deshawn, at this rate, we're not making it. Should I try something different, just one play to spark something?"
Deshawn pondered for a moment, setting his bottle down. Then, with a slow nod, he agreed with Ethan.
The coach clapped his hands, trying to figure out last minute confidence. "Listen, I know this season's been rough, but we have to keep pushing. I still believe in this team."
The players stood, walking through the tunnel toward the field. Ethan's chest tightened. Not from fear of losing, but from the pressure of what he was about to do.
He had felt this same weight last year when he first joined the team.
Their opponents, the Blueline Kings, wore smooth blue jerseys with gold accents. IronHaven United, Ethan's team, stood in contrasting white jerseys with silver stripes. The national anthem played, and Ethan pressed his hand to his chest, sweat already forming on his brow. His heart pounded.
As the whistle blew, the game began. Alejandro surprised everyone by passing directly to Ethan, an unorthodox start.
He took possession, dribbling swiftly down the sideline, carefully avoiding tackles.
A defender named Steven stepped in to block him.
Without hesitation, Ethan flicked the ball over both of them, using his momentum to recover on the other side before Steven could attempt to get it. As he neared the corner, he saw Alejandro waving for a pass. But something inside him made him feel the need to take the shot himself.
Slamming his left foot down, he swung his right leg forward, striking the ball with the lateral side of his foot. It soared through the air, curving toward the goal. The goalkeeper lunged, stretching desperately, but the ball dipped at the last second, sinking into the net.
The air horn blasted. Cheers erupted. His teammates swarmed him, patting his back and shouting in celebration. Deshawn, usually composed, was grinning ear to ear.
Then, the substitute board went up. Ethan's number 22 was displayed alongside Theo's 36.
Confused and frustrated, Ethan stormed to the coach. "Coach, what the hell? I just scored! Why are you taking me out?"
The coach's grip tightened on his clipboard as he looked Ethan dead in the eyes. "You didn't follow the plan. It doesn't matter if you scored. Your job was to set Alejandro up, not go rogue. If you can't follow orders, you won't start. Got it?"
Spit flew as the coach ranted, his face red with fury. Ethan clenched his fists but bit his tongue, knowing arguing wouldn't change anything. He took a seat on the bench, sipping his water as Marco, a substitute, patted his back.
"That was a fantastic goal," Marco said. "I hope you get another chance to shine."
Ethan watched helplessly as the game unraveled. Alejandro struggled to keep possession. Defenders got dribbled past too easily. The goalkeeper couldn't withstand the pressure. By halftime, IronHaven United was down 1-2.
Deshawn looked furious, pacing as the second half was about to start.
As play resumed, Theo attempted a similar strategy to Ethan's, but he was slower. When Steven challenged him, Theo barely managed to flick the ball away and push forward, setting up for a volley per the coach's instructions.
Ethan watched as Deshawn suddenly rushed toward Alejandro's position. Theo lobbed the ball in, and Alejandro leaped to head it in. The ball fell short, but Deshawn, sprinting in from behind, launched himself into the air and met it with a powerful header. The goalkeeper, caught off guard, reacted too late. The ball crossed the line.
The horn blasted again. The crowd erupted. Deshawn pumped his fist high, and Ethan clapped for him. But when Ethan glanced at the sideline, he saw the coach throw his clipboard in frustration before signaling for another substitution.
Number 12, Deshawn was being replaced.
Deshawn stormed off the field, anger etched into his features. The coach put in Parker, a wild card of a player. Lazy at times but capable of brilliance.
Parker's black hair was tied into a loose bun as he jogged onto the field.
The clock neared 89 minutes. Ethan's gaze drifted toward the argument brewing between Deshawn and the coach. He turned back just in time to see Alejandro lose possession. But Parker reacted instantly, tackling the opponent and stealing the ball.
Parker ignored Alejandro's shouts for a pass, sprinting forward. A defender lunged in for a slide tackle, but Parker flicked the ball up, twisted his body to look away then jump. Time seemed to slow as he executed a bicycle kick. The ball rocketed toward the goal. The goalkeeper barely got his fingertips on it, but it wasn't enough the ball bounced into the net.
The stadium exploded in cheers. Parker landed hard, then stood and bowed dramatically, smirking as fans chanted his name.
IronHaven United: 3. Blueline Kings: 2.
As the final whistle blew, the team celebrated their hard fought victory. Ethan, however, felt conflicted. Relief, pride, and frustration churned inside him as they walked back through the tunnel to the locker room.
As he toweled off, the coach grabbed his shoulder, leaning in to whisper. "If that happens again, you're off the starting lineup. You're a rookie. Stick to the plan."
Ethan clenched his jaw, shrugging off the coach's grip. He didn't care about the warnings. He had done what needed to be done.
On the bus ride home, Ethan sat next to Parker, while Deshawn had his headphones on across from them. Parker, usually relaxed, was flipping through a book.
Ethan nudged him. "How did you do that kick?"
Parker smirked. "Flexibility, accuracy, and food. But mostly I just want to win."
Ethan then leaned back, checking the KickLine news on his phone. The headline caught his eye:
'IronHaven United Wins Against Blueline Kings. Will this be a turning point?'
The cover photo? Parker mid-bicycle kick.
Ethan exhaled, turning off his phone. Music played softly through the bus speakers as he closed his eyes, letting the moment sink in.