Femi's heart still raced when he walked off the pitch after the Ajax U-23's 4-1 loss to the Senior Reserves. The sting of the first-half mistakes lingered, but there was a flicker of something else too—something that kept his head high despite the scoreline. It wasn't the result he'd wanted, but the second half, with its tactical shift and his move to a traditional left-back position, had shown him something valuable: he could do this.
The match had ended, but the lessons from the game weren't over.
In the locker room, the atmosphere was heavy. Coach Bakker was in the midst of a heated conversation with Lars, the Dutch legend, trying to break down the details of what went wrong. Femi's mind drifted back to the second half when he'd had a hand in stabilizing the back line. While his positioning still needed work, he had managed to make three critical tackles, one of which stopped a dangerous counter. He wasn't perfect, but he was getting closer.
Sven Janssen, the Ajax senior team captain, entered the room as the conversation continued. He didn't say anything at first, just observing the younger players who were mulling over the match. His presence, though, commanded respect. Femi didn't expect anything from the senior captain. After all, he was still trying to carve a place in the U-23 squad.
But when Sven made his way through the locker room and stopped near him, Femi's heart skipped a beat. This was a man who had seen It all. A seasoned pro.
"Good shift out there," Sven said, his voice low and steady. There was no praise for the win, because there was no win, but his acknowledgment felt important. "You looked more comfortable after the formation change. You've got potential."
Femi blinked, unsure whether to be relieved or intimidated. Was this just polite banter, or was it genuine feedback?
"You've got the tools," Sven continued, "But you need to work on the little things—positioning, timing. Your defensive instincts showed through in the second half. You just need to trust them more."
Femi nodded, absorbing the advice. He wasn't ready for praise, but he wasn't going to let this moment pass unnoticed either. This could be the beginning of something.
Sven clapped him lightly on the shoulder, as if to cement the moment before moving off to the other players. Femi stood there for a moment, feeling a sense of quiet pride. It wasn't the result he had hoped for, but it was validation of his efforts—something he hadn't expected to get from a senior player like Sven.
Later that evening, Femi walked back to his room, his thoughts still on the match. It had been a day of contrasts—disappointments wrapped in moments of hope. He'd played poorly, then he'd played better. He'd had his failures, but he was starting to see glimpses of the player he could become.
As he opened the door to his room, however, he was met by an uncomfortable sight. Josip Van der Berg, the U-23 starting left-back, stood by Femi's bed with his arms crossed, his eyes narrowed in what looked like frustration.
Femi froze. The tension in the air was thick, heavy with unspoken words. Josip wasn't someone known for subtlety. If he had something to say, he usually said it. But tonight, there was an uncharacteristic stillness about him—something simmering beneath the surface.
The silence dragged on for what felt like an eternity. Femi waited, unsure if Josip was going to speak or simply make a point of his presence. Josip's temperamental attitude had never been a secret. He wasn't someone who liked being challenged, especially not by someone like Femi—someone who was slowly but surely working his way into a position he had fought to be in.
Femi glanced at Josip, searching for any sign of what this confrontation might be about. But Josip didn't move, didn't speak, didn't offer any kind of greeting. His gaze was sharp, assessing, but there was nothing forthcoming.
Finally, just as Femi opened his mouth to say something, Josip scoffed and turned toward the door, making no effort to say a word. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Femi alone with his thoughts.
What had just happened? Josip had been standing there, his body language exuding frustration, but he hadn't said a thing. It wasn't like him. Femi had expected some sort of confrontation or even a dismissive remark, but the silence was more deafening than anything.
With a deep sigh, Femi sank onto his bed. The whole exchange had left him unsettled. Josip was clearly not pleased with something, but Femi couldn't quite pinpoint what. He wasn't sure whether to be angry or confused. Josip had always been temperamental, but this was different—more personal, somehow.
Femi knew one thing for sure: he wasn't going to let this simmer for long. He would prove himself. No matter what Josip thought, no matter what anyone thought, he would show that he belonged here. He had to.
He just had to keep his head down, stay focused, and keep working. One step at a time.
To be continued…