The match now tilted in our favour, became more contested, leading to multiple attacking opportunities for both teams.
I almost converted a long shot, Jack barely able to tip it over the crossbar due to a lack of power in the attempt.
'Tch, I need to strengthen my ankles'
Arthur whipped the ball in from the resulting corner, accurately delivering it to Rick, who attempted a powerful header, unfortunately hitting the woodwork.
Fortunately, I was able to tap it in before Jack could clear it, extending our lead.
*****************************
*Fweeeeep*
*Ding*
[Data collection complete. Host is advised to compete in an official match]
3-0. That was the outcome, the last goal coming off of Rick's feet. I made my way to the resting area while receiving praise for my performance, most wishing to see my form carry over into tomorrow's game.
The next few minutes consisted of the coaches reviewing a player's performance and providing them feedback while they performed their post-match routine - stretching, eating and so on.
Coach James heaped praises on my performance while exaggeratedly patting my shoulder, "That was an astonishing display! Keep it up! I hope to see today's Nick out on the pitch destroying them tomorrow!"
While he moved towards the next kid, I rotated my shoulder in an attempt to loosen it, stiff from the hammering it had weathered, when James turned around and exclaimed, "Oh! Almost forgot. Be sure to see me in my office for a private chat after the game"
I stared at his retreating back as I tried and failed to recall any pre-existing reason for the sudden chat.
'Maybe he has questions about my transformed play-style?', I wondered before shifting my attention to the translucent window obscuring part of my vision.
'So it doesn't disappear due to blinking, huh. Maybe it's following my will?'
I held back the urge to confirm my hypothesis as I committed the message to memory. An idea struck just before I willed it away, prompting me to give it a go.
'Minimize', I willed with all my might, and almost jumped with delight when the screen shrunk to a blinking blue dot and settled in the corner of my vision.
Willing the window to expand, I watched as it expanded to fill my entire vision. I experimented with various mental commands, discovering the ability to customise their size and position, but failing to change its color or opacity.
A sudden waving hand in front of my eyes pulled me out of my investigation, followed by a mischievous voice, "What's our resident wonderboy daydreaming about?"
I dazedly looked up, still preoccupied with my inspection, to find Max observing me with a curious expression.
"Who's wonderboy?", I questioned while I willed the window to minimize.
"You, duh. With your recent performances, some of the guys started calling you that", Max explained with a shrug.
Snorting at the needlessly grand nickname, I recalled my atrocious ankle strength and all the training I'd decided to do. Turning to Max, I enquired, "Hey, do you have any specific training plans in mind for today?"
"Not really, just something to do with passing, maybe?", he responded in an unsure voice.
"I came up with a mini-game, passing is a part of it, wanna give it a go?", I proposed with a grin, to which he nodded, intrigued.
While Max looked for Jack, I searched for Arthur and Oscar. Spotting them paired up for what appeared to be passing practice, I approached them, "Hey, guys. Max and I are going to play a mini-game, we could use your help"
"Does it involve defending against you?", questioned Oscar in a concerned tone, receiving a nod from me.
"Oh! Sounds fun. I'm down. What about you?", replied a cheerful Arthur, earning a hesitant yes from Oscar.
With the five of us gathered, I explained the rules, "Ok, we're going to split into two teams, one for attacking and the other for defense. Oscar and Jack will be part of the defending team while I will be responsible for the attack. Max and Arthur will split up and switch between the two after each round"
Observing traces of surprise at the unconventional mini-game, I continued, "The attackers will start with the ball, earning a point for a goal scored. The defenders will get a point for being able to prevent conceding, but you can only earn a point if you successfully avoid losing the ball for half a minute after winning it from the attackers"
Pausing for them to process the rules, I added, "Some rules regarding Jack, you are allowed to pass to him, but he cannot pick it up. Jack, you can use your hands only to save a shot on goal. If you happen to catch the ball, drop it at your feet immediately. It goes without saying, but clearing the ball is not allowed and fouls will result in a 15-second timeout for the player"
The ensuing silence was broken by an impressed Oscar, "Damn. You came up with that? Did you take classes from Coach James?"
"Yeah, thanks for the hands-off rule. I've been wanting to improve my foot skills, especially my passing with defense", added a slightly downcast Jack.
"Don't misunderstand the Coach's decision, Jack. You have excellent skills and he's aware of it, too. Ivan just has better chemistry with the defense because he's been playing with them for longer. I'm sure he'll have you between the sticks next week if we win tomorrow", I encouraged him while setting up some cones.
*****************************
I tucked myself in for the night as I reflected on my findings today, 'Passing and shooting accuracy have improved as I get used to being a midget. Though, it's doubtful if I'd be able to regain my technique completely before I can vote'
Turning my thoughts to the more pessimistic conclusions, I made a mental note of my lack of power and stamina, 'I'll have to leave the shadow striker role for when the team is desperate for a goal. All that activity is unsustainable as of now'
Finished summarizing today's findings, I addressed the elephant in the room, 'Expand', I willed.
Looking at the floating message, I let my mind wander in search of explanations, 'On the surface, it is interested in my football information and presumably wants data from an official match. Why?'
'Seeing that it is advising, either it doesn't have the means to control me, or it is not interested in doing so, which means it's more of an observer for now. *Sigh*, I wish I could read the previous messages for a better idea…..', my thoughts were interrupted when the screen's contents switched to a log, displaying multiple messages with a scroll wheel to the side.
Performing a mental face-palm, I paused, and willed, 'I wish to have a billion pounds'
Looking around to check, I shrugged after finding everything unchanged, 'Meh. Was worth a try'
Bringing my attention back to the window, I read the messages with a racing heart.
[Data collection complete. Host is advised to compete in an official match]
[Host part of a football club. Collecting information]
.
.
.
'Seems like it's in reverse chronological order', I deduced as I willed it to scroll to the top. My eyes widened as they fell upon the first few messages, my brain screeching to a halt, 'WTF?!'
If you want to support me, tip me @
paypal . me / adhik57
Hope you enjoyed reading :)