The dressing room was filled with the low hum of exhausted breaths and clinking water bottles. Ajax U-23 had just edged out FC Utrecht 2-1 in their final friendly before the National U-23 Championship. But despite the smiles, everyone knew the real challenge was still ahead.
Femi sat on the bench, jersey clinging to his back, the buzz of his goal still pulsing through his chest. That strike—that curling finish after that interception—felt like a statement. One he had been aching to make. He looked up and saw Coach Bakker standing at the front of the room.
"Good win," Bakker began. "But make no mistake, that was a test run. Tomorrow, we begin the real journey."
The room fell quiet.
"The draw for the National U-23 Championship happens live tomorrow at four. Strategy room. Be there on time, sharp and focused."
Femi nodded along with the rest, but inside, his mind was already racing. What team would they face first? Would he even start? His body ached, but adrenaline refused to let him rest.
As the players peeled off their boots and headed to the showers, Josip brushed past Femi. A glance, a slight twitch of the mouth—was it respect or resentment? Femi could not tell. But he felt something shift. The air between them was different now.
The next day, at precisely four o'clock, the squad gathered in the strategy room. Lights dimmed, eyes glued to the large screen. A live feed from the federation's headquarters began to roll. Coach Bakker stood at the back of the room, arms folded.
"Here we go," he muttered.
The screen flashed with the tournament logo, then the draw began.
Quarterfinal 1: Ajax U-23 vs Feyenoord U-23
A murmur spread across the room. Femi's chest tightened. It had to be Feyenoord. The fiercest rivalry in Dutch football—one that extended even to the youth squads.
Liam leaned toward him and whispered, "Looks like your spotlight just got a little brighter."
Femi cracked a nervous grin. "Good. Let them come."
The rest of the draw followed:
Quarterfinal 2: AZ Alkmaar U-23 vs PSV Eindhoven U-23
Quarterfinal 3: Vitesse U-23 vs Heerenveen U-23
Quarterfinal 4: FC Twente U-23 vs Groningen U-23
It was a straight knockout bracket. Four matches. One champion.
Coach Bakker turned to face the group.
"We play in two days. You all know what this means. Lose, and we're out. Win, and we march toward the title. Training tomorrow at nine. Be ready to work. Dismissed."
As the team filtered out, Femi lingered. His heart was pounding. Not from fear—but from anticipation. Feyenoord. A statement game. The kind of match where legends take their first real steps.
He stepped out into the hallway and found Liam waiting.
"You nervous?" Liam asked, eyes calm as ever.
Femi looked down at his boots, then back up. "Not really."
Liam raised an eyebrow.
"Okay," Femi admitted, exhaling. "A little. But also… ready."
Liam nodded. "Then show it. This is where it starts for you."
Femi nodded back. His mind was already shifting—tactically, emotionally, mentally. The rise had begun.
To be continued…