At the Westphalian University of Applied Sciences in Gelsenkirchen, the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the football pitch as a group of teenagers battled it out in an intense internal match. These young players, part of the university's football team, were fully absorbed in the game, beads of sweat glistening on their foreheads. The competition was fierce, with both teams—one in green and the other in white—vying for control.
More than twenty players moved across the field in their green and white jerseys, each one determined to prove themselves. The green team was relentlessly attacking, keeping the pressure high as they surrounded the white team's penalty area. Despite their efforts, the white team held firm, their defense solid and disciplined. The green team's attempts to break through were met with a wall of resistance, and the white team's goalkeeper remained largely untroubled, only occasionally glancing towards the ball as it was cleared from danger by his central defenders.
Frustration was beginning to seep into the green team's ranks. Their striker, growing impatient after numerous failed attempts to score, was starting to lose his composure. The tension was palpable when he finally found himself in possession. Positioned well after some clever movement, he managed to deceive one of the white team's defenders, creating a rare opportunity for a one-on-one with the goalkeeper. However, his eagerness got the better of him. His shot, struck too hastily, lacked the necessary power and precision. The white team's goalkeeper, calm and collected, dove to his left and comfortably smothered the ball, tucking it securely under his body.
"Beep beep!"
The sharp sound of a whistle cut through the air, signaling the end of the match. The players from both teams, though tired, clapped each other on the back as they moved towards the touchline where a commanding voice echoed: "Huddle up! Huddle!"
Obeying the call, the players quickly formed two lines facing each other. As they stood there, an older man, his hair streaked with gray, approached them. He appeared to be in his fifties, his presence immediately commanding respect from the young athletes. This was Coach Norbert Elgert, a man revered by everyone on the pitch. His reputation as a strict but fair coach preceded him, and the players knew well that he had no patience for mediocrity.
As Coach Elgert surveyed the two teams, his expression shifted. He cast a warm, approving gaze at the white team, a nod of acknowledgment for their disciplined play. Then, as his eyes moved over to the green team, his demeanor changed abruptly, becoming stern and severe, as if a storm cloud had suddenly darkened the sky.
"Four days," he began, his voice low and measured, "Four days until the final, and you think this kind of training will get you anywhere? Honestly, if this is what you've got, you might as well throw in the towel now. Forget the match, go enjoy your lives—date, race, do whatever you want, because playing like this, there's no hope."
The players of the green team stood in silence, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air. Among them, one young player, his pride stung, found the courage to speak up. He lifted his head and, with a steady voice, said, "Coach Elgert, I promise you, next time I won't miss that chance. I will score."
Coach Elgert's eyes narrowed as he turned sharply to face the speaker. His name was Ndi, a talented but inconsistent striker who had often been at the receiving end of Elgert's tough love. The coach stepped closer, his gaze piercing as he demanded, "Ndi, look at me and repeat what you just said."
All eyes were now on Ndi. The tension was thick as he hesitated, but only for a moment. Summoning his resolve, Ndi met Coach Elgert's intense stare and repeated, "Next time, I will score. I won't miss that chance again."
The coach held Ndi's gaze for a long moment before finally nodding, though his expression remained inscrutable. "We'll see," Elgert said, his tone neither encouraging nor dismissive. "But remember, words mean nothing on this pitch. It's your actions that will define you."
With that, Coach Elgert turned to address the rest of the team, his voice carrying the weight of experience and authority. "This is more than just a game. It's about discipline, focus, and commitment. Every moment on this pitch matters. If you want to win, you need to give everything—every single time. No exceptions."
The players nodded in unison, the gravity of the coach's words sinking in. They knew what was at stake, and they understood that their performance in the coming days would not only determine the outcome of the final but also shape their futures as footballers.
As the meeting concluded, the players slowly dispersed, each one lost in thought, replaying the match in their minds and considering what they needed to improve before the final. The sun had begun to dip below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the pitch. The final, just days away, loomed large in their minds, a test of all they had trained for under Coach Elgert's watchful eye.
This young man stood out among his peers—not just for his talent but also for his appearance. His dark, African skin contrasted sharply with the predominantly white faces around him, making him easily recognizable on the pitch.
The name "Ndi" was as unique as his presence. Unlike the more familiar Western surnames, it carried a distinct African identity, setting him apart even further in this European setting. Samuel Ndi Ebogo was the Green Team's striker—the Cameroonian student who had just squandered a golden opportunity to score in a one-on-one situation against the goalkeeper. A student at the International School of Westphalian University of Applied Sciences, Samuel was well aware of the weight his name and heritage carried, both on and off the pitch.
When Coach Elgert's voice rang out, sharp and demanding, Samuel instinctively straightened up. He pounded his chest with determination before raising his voice to respond, "Next time, I will not waste a single opportunity!"
Coach Elgert's eyes bore into him as he immediately countered, "There is only ever one chance on the pitch. If that one-on-one you just wasted had been the team's last opportunity, would there be another one?" His tone was stern, almost harsh, but it was laced with the wisdom of countless matches and a deep understanding of the game's unforgiving nature.
Samuel felt the sting of the coach's words but steadied himself. Though nervous, he spoke the truth with a calm, measured voice: "If the defender hadn't been Franck Emmanuel Ndongo, and the goalkeeper wasn't Alain Didier Nkoum, I would have been more confident." As he said this, he glanced towards the white team's side of the field. There, two other African faces stood out—Franck, the towering central defender and captain, and Alain, the imposing goalkeeper. Both were Cameroonian, like Samuel, and both were key players for the team.
Franck, a commanding presence at 1.95 meters, was a formidable obstacle on the pitch. His height and defensive prowess made him nearly unbeatable in the air, and his leadership skills earned him the captain's armband. Alain, just a few centimeters taller than Franck, was a goalkeeper of exceptional talent. His calm demeanor and quick reflexes had saved the team on numerous occasions, and his imposing figure in the goalmouth was enough to intimidate any striker.
These three Cameroonian students—Samuel, Franck, and Alain—formed the backbone of the school's football team. It was an unusual sight, even in the diverse landscape of German football, to see three players from the same African country holding such crucial positions: striker, center-back, and goalkeeper. But it was this very combination that had propelled the team to new heights.
In a city like Gelsenkirchen, known for its deep footballing roots through Schalke 04, the presence of these Cameroonian players in a university team reaching the final of the 2007 German University Football League North Rhine-Westphalia Regional Division was nothing short of remarkable. It marked the first time in the school's history that such a diverse lineup had achieved such success, and it was no surprise that the school management was paying close attention.
The performance of the Westphalian University of Applied Sciences football team had been on a steady rise since these players joined. Last year, they had finished fourth in the state, but this year, they were in the final, one step away from claiming the championship. The school's expectations were higher than ever, and the pressure was palpable.
As Samuel spoke, Franck's face lit up with a sense of pride, while Alain allowed himself a faint smile. Their reactions, though different, revealed the deep bond between the three. Under the watchful eye of Coach Elgert, their connection was evident—not just as teammates, but as friends who understood the significance of what they were achieving together.
After hearing Samuel's words, Coach Elgert shifted his gaze back to Franck Emmanuel Ndongo and Alain Didier Nkoum in the white team. A hint of satisfaction crossed his face, and when his eyes lingered on Franck, he even allowed himself a small, appreciative smile.
In his heart, Coach Elgert knew exactly why this team had made it to the final. The attack had managed just 15 goals in 10 games, but the defense, led by Franck, had conceded only three. Franck's role as the anchor at the back, with his exceptional defensive skills, had been crucial to their success. His contribution was immense, and Elgert recognized that.
However, despite the acknowledgment in his heart, Coach Elgert's expression quickly hardened again. He turned his attention back to Samuel and asked sharply, "Samuel, repeat what you told me on your first day with the school team—what's your dream?"
"I want to join a professional club and become a professional player!" Samuel declared loudly, with conviction.
"That's a ridiculous dream for you!" Coach Elgert retorted, crushing Samuel's aspirations without hesitation.
"Do you even understand what it means to be a striker in a professional team? They believe they're practically divine, the chosen ones, and they look down on defenders like you. They don't just think defenders are tough—they believe they're beneath them. You think you can survive in that world? You couldn't even handle Franck today, and he's not even a professional. Yet you still dream of going pro? Dreams are fine, but without the confidence to back them up, they're nothing but empty words!"
Elgert's words were harsh, and Samuel could feel the sting of each one. He wanted to argue, to stand up for himself, but he knew deep down that the coach wasn't speaking from a place of ignorance. Coach Norbert Elgert had a wealth of experience—he had played for Schalke 04's first team, worked as an assistant coach for their U19 youth team, and spent a decade at one of the Bundesliga's most prestigious youth academies. He had seen countless young players, evaluated endless talent, and earned his place as a respected figure in German football. His words carried weight.
German football, with its focus on community leagues and youth training centers, rarely saw players rise from college leagues to the professional ranks. Many of the teenagers who joined the school team harbored dreams of becoming professional players, but how many of those dreams were realistic? The three Cameroonian students—Franck, Samuel, and Alain—shared the same aspiration: to receive professional training in the best possible environment and one day play in one of Europe's top leagues. But Elgert's words felt like a cold bucket of water, dousing Samuel's hopes. If he wasn't even good enough to make it to a professional club's youth team, was there any point in continuing down this path?
After Coach Elgert dismissed the team, Franck and Alain immediately went to comfort Samuel. "Don't worry, Samuel," Franck said reassuringly. "The final is just a few days away. You know this is the first time in five years that the school has a real chance at winning the national championship. The coach is under a lot of pressure too."
But Samuel's mood remained low, the coach's words still echoing in his mind. In a moment of vulnerability, he switched to Ewondo, his native Cameroonian dialect, and asked, "Franck, do you really think I have no talent? That I'm not cut out to play professionally and that I've just been fooling myself these past few years?"
Franck found himself momentarily at a loss for words. The three of them—Franck, Samuel, and their mutual friend—had been inseparable since their first days at the university, forging a bond that had only grown stronger over time. Franck, in particular, had come to understand Samuel better than anyone else. He recognized the subtle shifts in Samuel's demeanor, the way his normally confident posture would soften, and how his usually sharp, quick-witted responses would slow when something weighed heavily on his mind.
Franck knew that whenever Samuel was troubled, uncertain, or feeling particularly vulnerable, he would instinctively slip into Ewondo, the language of their shared Cameroonian heritage. It was a habit rooted in a deep-seated need for comfort and familiarity, a way of grounding himself when the world around him felt overwhelming. Hearing Samuel speak in Ewondo now, Franck knew immediately that something serious was troubling him.
Franck placed a reassuring hand on Samuel's shoulder and said, "What are you even worrying about? Is there a problem with your training? Are you struggling during matches? Come on, are you a man or not? Don't be so soft!"
"Exactly, Samuel! Don't listen to that old tortoise's nonsense!" Alain chimed in, his rare outburst in Ewondo lightening the mood.
"I'm not worried about myself," Samuel admitted, "but the three of us promised we'd play together in a professional team. I'm just afraid I'm going to fall behind."
"Samuel, stop overthinking it," Franck advised. "The state finals are almost here. You need to focus on that for now, not on playing professionally. At least not yet. Right now, your biggest task is to rest and prepare for the final. We need to give it everything we've got."
The words of his friends, though comforting, did little to ease Samuel's mind completely. But he knew they were right—the final was their immediate goal, and he had to concentrate on that. As the three of them walked off the pitch together, Samuel resolved to push his doubts aside, at least for now, and give his all in the upcoming match. The dream of going pro would have to wait—until after they had fought for the championship.
…
…
In the international students' dormitory of the International University, the halls were always bustling with a mix of languages and cultures, a reflection of the diverse student body. As Franck, Samuel, and Alain walked side by side through the building, their camaraderie was evident, drawing the attention of their peers. It wasn't uncommon for someone to joke, "Haha! I'm really curious if the three of you are ever separated."
To an outsider, the bond between these three might have seemed like it had been forged in childhood. But in reality, they had only become friends after starting university. Although all three hailed from Yaoundé, Cameroon's capital, their neighborhoods were quite different—Alain was from Bastos, Samuel from Oyomabang, and Franck from Essos.
Born in 1989, the three of them grew up during a time when football was the heartbeat of Cameroon. The country's love for the sport was fueled by legends like Roger Milla, whose iconic goals against Colombia in the 1990 World Cup and jubilant corner-flag dance captured the world's imagination. Cameroon's historic run to the quarter-finals of that tournament made them the first African team to achieve such a feat. Then there was Samuel Eto'o, who, with his remarkable performances at Barcelona—winning Champions League titles and scoring countless goals—became a symbol of Cameroonian pride. These legends inspired an entire generation, including Franck, Samuel, and Alain, who all dreamed of one day playing for the Indomitable Lions, Cameroon's national team, and winning the World Cup.
Even though they weren't born when Roger Milla danced into history, his story, along with Eto'o's ongoing success, ignited their passion for football from a young age. Each of them began playing in their respective neighborhoods, their dreams fueled by the desire to emulate their heroes. Recognizing their determination and budding talent, their families supported their ambitions, hoping that one day they might rise to fame in the world of football.
The story of how these three became friends is as much about rivalry as it is about camaraderie. Franck, the natural leader due to his size and demeanor, took charge when they first met. Standing taller and broader than the others, he proposed that they follow his lead, positioning himself as the 'big brother' of the group. Alain, with his gentle and easy-going nature, was quick to agree, not one to seek conflict. But Samuel, always direct and strong-willed, was less inclined to accept Franck's authority without a challenge. At 1.80 meters tall and muscular, Samuel wasn't one to back down easily, despite being slightly smaller than Franck.
However, reality hit hard. When Samuel challenged Franck's leadership, a brief scuffle ended with Franck delivering a single, well-placed punch that left Samuel with a nosebleed. It was then that Samuel learned Franck had trained in taekwondo for three years before focusing solely on football. The lesson was clear, and Samuel, albeit begrudgingly, acknowledged Franck's leadership.
Franck, despite his tough exterior, was excellent at fostering friendships. Once the hierarchy was established, he took it upon himself to ensure that the group remained close-knit. Whether it was dealing with the dirty work that inevitably came with being international students in a foreign country or handling school bullies who thought the newcomers from Cameroon would be easy targets, Franck was always at the forefront. Those early days in Germany were challenging, with an unfamiliar environment and initial hostility from some of their peers. But Franck's protective nature soon earned them a reputation—anyone who tried to mess with them quickly learned the consequences.
This fierce loyalty and protection from Franck not only solidified his role as the group's leader but also created a deep sense of trust between the three friends. Samuel and Alain gradually grew to respect Franck, not just because he was a few months older, but because, as Samuel would often say, "With Franck around, there's a sense of security. He protects us like a big brother."
Their bond became unbreakable, and they were seldom seen apart on campus. The most important reason for their inseparability was that, in the vast expanse of the university, they had only each other. They shared not only a deep friendship but also the same goal: to work hard and become professional footballers.
…
…
Back in the dormitory, Franck switched on the TV and PlayStation 3, a familiar routine after a long day. Franck turned to his friends with a mischievous grin and suggested, "Hey, why don't we play FIFA? I need to show you who's boss."
Samuel, already spotting Franck's team selection on the screen, couldn't help but tease, "Franck, you're picking Dortmund again? You always choose them. If you love Dortmund so much, why didn't you just go to university there?"
Franck chuckled and shot back, "If I went to Dortmund University, would we still be at the same school? Who would have your back when you get into trouble?"
Samuel wasn't letting it slide. "My brother, let's be real here! It's not like you avoided Dortmund because of the exams. If you had passed their entrance test, would you have really chosen to come here? Come on, we all know it's about that girl you saw in Dortmund. You don't even care that much about the team—you're just thinking about her, right?"
Alain, usually the quiet one, chimed in unexpectedly, "Yeah, Franck. You're not fooling anyone. It's that girl, isn't it?"
Samuel, catching the drift, joined in with a sly grin, "Oh~ Haha! Franck is smitten! Don't worry, you'll see your dream girl in a couple of days."
Franck rolled his eyes, trying to deflect the teasing. "Some things are better left unsaid, but you two just can't help yourselves, can you?"
Despite his protests, it was clear from Franck's reaction that Alain and Samuel had hit a nerve. Samuel's grin widened as he sensed they were onto something, while Alain shot a knowing glance at Franck, both of them enjoying the moment.
After a brief pause, Franck sighed and decided to come clean—at least partially. He opened his MSN Messenger, and sure enough, in his friends list was the picture of a stunning girl with long blonde hair, delicate lips, and a radiant smile. Her name was Lena Weissbach. Franck hesitated for a moment, then typed a message to her: "Sorry to bother you, but will you come and cheer me on when I play in the final this weekend?"
It didn't take long—half a minute at most—before his computer chimed with a "didi" sound, signaling a reply. Franck quickly opened it, and there it was, Lena's response, complete with two smiley faces and a heartwarming message: "Of course! Such an important moment—I wouldn't miss it for the world!"
Seeing her reply, Franck's heart skipped a beat. He clenched his fists in excitement, unable to hide the smile spreading across his face. The thought of Lena watching him from the stands gave him a renewed sense of purpose and a surge of energy. Suddenly, the upcoming match held even greater significance.
In just a few days, Franck and his teammates would face off in the final against the Technical University of Dortmund. Much like the fierce rivalry between Borussia Dortmund and Schalke 04, this match was more than just a game. Both universities were situated in North Rhine-Westphalia, and their football teams had a long history of intense, closely contested matches. The rivalry was deeply entrenched, and every year, the two teams met in what felt like a reenactment of the Ruhr derby.
Last year's semi-final had ended in heartbreak for Franck's team, with the Westphalian University of Applied Sciences falling to their Dortmund rivals and missing out on the final. But this year was different. The team had been strengthened by the addition of Franck, Samuel, and Alain—three new players who had brought fresh energy and determination to the squad. They had battled their way through the semi-finals and now stood on the brink of glory.
Coach Elgert had been clear about their mission: they had to win this final. The draw for the College League had determined that this year's final would be held at the Technical University of Dortmund's home ground, a daunting prospect for any away team. Playing on their rivals' turf wasn't exactly ideal, but Franck now had something—or rather, someone—extra to play for.
Lena's promise to be there, to watch him play, transformed what could have been a nerve-wracking situation into a golden opportunity. Now, Franck wasn't just playing for the title; he was playing to impress the girl who had captured his heart. With the final fast approaching, the thought of performing well in front of her gave him a boost of confidence and determination.
As Franck, Samuel, and Alain settled in for their FIFA match, the stakes of the upcoming real-life game loomed large. But with Lena's message fresh in his mind, Franck knew he was ready to give it everything he had—both on the pitch and in life.