Chapter 44 - Last Day

Millwall had always been a hard team to play against. They have among the most aggressive, committed fans in all of English football, and consistently the best defense to boot too.

Blaise had many fond, and not so fond, memories of Millwall during his career.

One was that FA Cup semi final match where he got booed to oblivion and given a thousand middle fingers by the Millwall faithful after scoring a long-ranged free kick winner to seal the deal.

The other was that red card given to him after a bad tackle that sent Millwall's beloved captain to the dirt. He got booed to oblivion again, and this time, the number of middle fingers given to him doubled— or was it tripled, maybe quadrupled? There's some spit and bottles mixed in too.

He's glad that this is just an Under 18 game. It saves him the trouble of investing his most complex emotions into this game.

Though how could he? This game will be his farewell to the Under 18s!

He's not going to waste it.

Blaise was in the middle of the field, scanning for openings on the rock solid Millwall defense. It's hard, even for a reincarnated ex top flight player here in the youth teams, since most of the Millwall players are graduates of their academy and molded by their tough, hard nosed football doctrine.

His broad shoulders kept at bay one pesky physical attacking mid that was glued to him from the start. He dribbled past, and planned to just take the ball with him until someone stops him, or at least until his vision sees an opening.

Terry unexpectedly was the first to get past his marker, but Blaise didn't even look at him as he's so far offside to matter.

At this moment, still with a single man cover and with his midfielders dropping back, Blaise sighed and revved his engines for a full sprint to the net.

The attacking mid that was glued to him was rooted to his place, unwilling to break the team's solid structure by following Atkinson on his foray deeper into their half. All he could do was block his path for a second and let him through for the next player to take.

Blaise was like a runaway train, using his legs to cut deep into hostile territory with just himself, forcing his teammates and opponents to move according to his whim. Millwall could only be reactive to him, knowing that they couldn't let this guy venture deeper without resistance.

He hurdled a sliding defensive midfielder while keeping in check one of the midfielders that was trying to hold him down. This is the kind of physical defense Millwall is best known for.

Several seconds later, passing the line of midfielders, the options are now clear for him.

Left? Cameron is man marked by a defender as fast as him.

Right? No… look at the physical disadvantage there…

Center? Let's go through the middle! Force them to make a difficult choice!

He slid the ball between the last defensive midfielder's legs before the poor guy fell over while backtracking. Just a few yards in front of him, was a center back, scrambling to get the ball first.

The momentum of Blaise was just that domineering though. His back foot went on top of the ball, as he angled for a spin move, before he dragged the now slow moving ball with the other foot. By the end of it, the defender was already lost in confusion, and Blaise had tucked the ball beautifully to Terry Quinn's path…

Terry's composure in one on ones had always been his asset. He will not miss.

1-0!

Terry jumped on Blaise Atkinson's back in admiration for the man's ridiculous one man machine play. The Sheffield boys— including Terry himself— thought that it was regrettable that he didn't finish the play off himself.

They'll miss him for real.

"Yo, this game's for you wankers." Blaise smiled at the lot of them. "I thought you're gonna impress them!"

"Fuck you." Cameron gave him a slight punch on the arm. "After a play like that, whatever we do won't impress them anymore!"

Millwall defended like a steel wall after conceding the opening goal.

Their stifling defense got even tighter than it already was, especially around Atkinson, who didn't venture forward much after his maniacal run. He stayed back most of the time, content on recycling possession and disrupting the sparse Millwall offense.

It was inevitable then, that the two sides floundered around in the midfield without breaking much ground until the halftime whistle.

***

The second half started with aplomb, with Sheffield becoming more assertive in possession, controlling the tempo and making a lot less mistakes.

The away side's defense won't crumble with just that though, especially now that they've learnt their lesson in the first half.

They barely gave Blaise Atkinson any leeway to demonstrate his overwhelming capabilities. The central midfielder, given the unenviable task of holding him, hounded him like a lockdown defender guarding the star player of a basketball team in the three point line with seconds left in the game.

A few minutes later, a horrendous late challenge from the Millwall midfielder sent Blaise Atkinson eating the dirt in the dangerous area. It was a free kick, and a yellow card given, but Blaise grimaced on the ground after his right foot was hit with some momentum.

The first team coaches on the stands stood up in disbelief, after seeing him clutching his right foot. If he goes down here, we'll really have a midfield injury crisis on our hands!

The colors on their faces vanished at the sight of him going down.

Good thing the colors on their faces returned after he dusted himself off and rotated his right foot like it's nothing.

They'll still check on him later to make sure though…

Cameron and Blaise were the ones standing behind the ball on the ensuing free kick. Visible among the crowd was the duo deciding who'll take the free.

Nobody thought that Blaise Atkinson won't take it though.

Blaise started his run up… the wall braced itself... it's a decoy!

Cameron quickly took it instead with his left foot… Goal!

The ball didn't leave the ground the entire time, as it traveled underneath the players that formed the wall and with the goalkeeper's vision obscured by the mass of bodies, it found the bottom left corner easily.

The defense was caught flat footed. Such a dead ball specialist giving up a dead ball goal scoring chance to a teammate? It's not like Cameron Okojo has a track record of scoring free kicks!

As the saying went, the unknown is always the scariest.