"Come on, there's still time. Follow me, I'll introduce you," Samuel said to Franck, his tone carrying the enthusiasm of an old friend reconnecting.
Franck, somewhat reluctant but not wanting to disappoint, trailed slowly behind Samuel, curiosity piqued.
"Hey! Jean!" Samuel suddenly called out, his voice carrying across the field.
The number 11 player of Darmstadt University of Technology, Jean Ekombo, turned around at the sound of his name. Upon seeing Samuel and Franck, his expression shifted from confusion to recognition, as if memories from the past had just come flooding back.
Samuel immediately feigned displeasure. "What's this? Don't tell me you don't recognize me anymore, after all the windows we shattered together? Remember those days?"
Jean's face lit up with realization. "Oh my God, Sam! Is that really you?" he exclaimed, his voice laced with genuine surprise.
Samuel grinned, brushing a hand through his hair as if to make a point. "Do I look more handsome now? Is that why you didn't recognize me at first?"
Jean chuckled, shaking his head in mock disdain. "You haven't changed a bit. Still the same old narcissist."
After a brief exchange of friendly banter, Jean's gaze shifted from Samuel to the towering figure beside him. Franck, with his imposing height, immediately caught Jean's attention. Jean's surprise was evident as he turned back to Samuel with a questioning look. "And who's this?"
Samuel took a step forward, nudging Franck ahead. "This is Franck Emmanuel Ndongo, my best friend and someone who's like a big brother to me," Samuel introduced with a proud tone. He then added, "Franck, this is Jean Ekombo, my classmate from elementary school."
The two young men sized each other up, both clad in the uniforms of their respective teams. No handshakes were exchanged—just a nod of acknowledgment, a silent understanding that this was more than just a casual meeting.
Samuel, eager to set the stage before the match, turned to Jean with a confident smirk. "Jean, I know you've always been a standout player, but Franck here is different. He's someone you'll want to keep an eye on. Just a friendly warning from an old pal—don't underestimate him."
Jean responded with a casual, almost dismissive tone. "Oh? But Sam, I've heard this kind of talk before. I'll believe it when I see it. I've always enjoyed making defenders chase me around the pitch."
Samuel's expression soured slightly, but before he could respond, Franck stepped forward, his voice calm and measured. "Good. I like playing against strong opponents. Bring your best."
For a moment, the air between the two was charged with tension. They stood there, locked in a silent standoff, neither backing down. Franck's stare was intense, his demeanor exuding an aura of quiet dominance—a trait honed from his time as a leader on the field, forged through countless battles and victories. He had developed a presence, a killer instinct that few could match.
Jean, despite his initial bravado, found himself the first to look away, a subtle but telling sign of who held the psychological upper hand. Though he was a key player for Darmstadt, the absence of a captain's armband on Jean's sleeve further underscored the difference in their status.
Embarrassed, Jean muttered, "See you on the field," before quickly turning to rejoin his teammates.
As Jean walked away, Samuel leaned in close to Franck and whispered, "I was hyping you up, but I have to admit, he's really strong."
Franck, unfazed, replied with a smirk, "Are you nervous? How strong could he be?"
Samuel sighed, then continued, "I've told you before—he was my classmate in elementary school. Remember where I went to school?"
Franck nodded, half-distracted. "Yeah, Government Bilingual Primary School. You've mentioned it so many times, I could recite it in my sleep."
Samuel's tone turned more serious. "Alright, then listen to this: our school has produced some of the best players to come out of Cameroon."
Franck waved his hand dismissively, "Has he made it to the national team? Look, Sam, I respect my opponents, but I'm not going to overthink it. We've beaten plenty of strong teams before. It's about time we show some swagger."
Samuel considered this, then conceded, "You're right, Franck. But keep this in mind—he's fast. Really fast. Our coach recruited him from the track and field team. The guy runs the 100 meters in under 11 seconds."
Franck raised an eyebrow, a subtle smile forming on his lips. "Under 11 seconds? That's impressive. That's almost at a provincial level for sprinters."
The thought lingered in Franck's mind—a player with such speed on the football pitch was often dubbed a "Speed Star." Samuel's reminder had made Franck more alert, but it hadn't shaken his confidence. Over time, Franck had developed strategies for dealing with speedsters, many of them honed through his fierce rivalry with Samuel himself.
...
The college matches kicked off in the afternoon, and this particular game was set for 4 PM. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the pitch as the players on both sides gathered on the sidelines for their final tactical briefings.
Franck, standing among his teammates from the Westphalian University of Applied Sciences, noticed out of the corner of his eye that Jean Ekombo was positioned front and center in his team's huddle, closest to the Darmstadt University of Technology's coach. This was the spot typically reserved for the team's core players, those who needed to catch every word of the coach's instructions. It struck Franck as curious; Jean, despite being a winger—a position often seen as secondary to the central axis roles—was clearly treated as a pivotal player in his squad.
As the whistle blew and the game began, Franck quickly discovered that Jean was, in fact, playing as a right winger. This realization heightened Franck's vigilance. In most teams, the core player usually occupied a position along the central spine of the formation—whether as a commanding midfielder, a stalwart defender, or a clinical forward. The fact that Jean held such importance while playing out wide indicated that he was no ordinary player. Perhaps Samuel hadn't been exaggerating after all.
Darmstadt University of Technology had lined up in a 4-3-3 formation, signaling their intent to play offensively. Yet, their approach in the opening minutes was cautious, focusing on quick counterattacks. Westphalian University of Applied Sciences, meanwhile, dominated possession, pressing high up the pitch. Samuel, ever eager, attempted two early shots within the first two minutes, but neither posed a real threat. One skidded wide of the post, while the other sailed harmlessly into the goalkeeper's arms.
What caught Franck and his teammates by surprise was the immediate response from the Darmstadt goalkeeper. After catching Samuel's overhit shot, the keeper launched a long and precise throw, bypassing the midfield entirely and finding Jean on the right wing, just over the halfway line. It was a well-rehearsed tactic, clearly designed to exploit Jean's blistering pace.
Franck's eyes narrowed as he watched Jean explode into action. Within seconds, Jean had left his marker in the dust, charging towards the edge of the penalty area with frightening speed. Franck's mind raced—this guy was fast, very fast. Fortunately, Westphalian University of Applied Sciences had anticipated the need for defensive cover and was fielding a 5-3-2 formation. As Jean breezed past the first defender, the left center-back was in position to intercept him.
But Jean was more than just fast. Instead of slowing down or looking to pass, he executed a sudden stop, pivoting on his left foot and using the momentum to swivel past the left center-back, who was left floundering. The defender, in a desperate attempt to recover, grabbed a handful of Jean's shirt, pulling him down and earning a yellow card for the foul.
Watching this unfold, Franck's assessment of Jean rose sharply. He hadn't even directly faced Jean yet, but from this single sequence, it was clear that Jean was more dangerous than Samuel. Both were speedsters, but there was a critical difference.
Samuel's speed was raw and unrefined—a straight-line sprint that could bulldoze through lesser defenders. Jean, on the other hand, was like a refined version of Samuel. He combined his pace with exceptional ball control and the ability to stop on a dime, a skill that was invaluable on a football pitch. It reminded Franck of the way the legendary Dutch winger Marc Overmars used to torment defenses, or how the young Arjen Robben, now dazzling at Chelsea, could leave defenders grasping at thin air.
Jean earned a free-kick for Darmstadt University of Technology near the left edge of the penalty area, about 35 meters from goal. It was a long way out, and Alain Didier Nkoum, Westphalian's goalkeeper, expected the ball to be crossed into the box. Instead, Jean decided to take the shot himself. With a powerful strike, the ball cut through the air with a venomous swerve, forcing Nkoum to react quickly. He leaped and managed to tip the ball over the bar with a single palm, sparing his team an early setback.
"Watch number 11! Keep an eye on him!" Franck shouted, his voice carrying across the field. In just two attacks, Jean had showcased not only his speed but also his technical prowess. Franck knew that they were up against a formidable opponent, one that required the utmost vigilance.
It became apparent that Darmstadt University of Technology's entire strategy revolved around Jean's individual skill on the counterattack. Each time Westphalian University of Applied Sciences failed to find the back of the net, the opposing goalkeeper would waste no time in launching the ball to Jean on the right wing. The Westphalian left-back, tasked with marking Jean, was struggling to keep up, allowing Jean to repeatedly breach the left flank and create dangerous situations. This constant pressure was forcing Westphalian's three center-backs to spread out and cover more ground, weakening their defensive structure.
Franck observed the left center-back, who had just received a yellow card. The defender was now playing more cautiously, hesitant to engage Jean too aggressively. Realizing that this hesitation could cost them, Franck made a quick decision. During a break in play, he approached his teammate. "Let's switch positions. I'll take over."
The left center-back didn't hesitate. After being tormented by Jean for the past few minutes, he was all too happy to step aside, looking at Franck with a mixture of relief and gratitude.
Franck's decision to switch positions served two purposes. It was a tactical move to mitigate the risks posed by Jean, but it also stemmed from a desire to prove himself. Before the match, Jean had exuded arrogance, not giving Franck the respect he deserved. Although Samuel had tried to mediate, Franck saw no harm in teaching Jean a lesson in humility. After all, no player should believe they are invincible.
Across the pitch, Jean noticed the switch and couldn't hide his excitement. He had been dominating the right side but felt unsatisfied not having directly challenged Franck. Now, with Franck stationed on the left, Jean saw it as an opportunity to assert his superiority. He was confident, even cocky—believing that few defenders could match his abilities.
Jean's confidence was not unfounded. He was already regarded as a standout player at his university. His coach had even told him that if anyone on the team had the potential to break into Darmstadt's senior team, it was him. Such praise had inflated Jean's sense of self-worth, leading him to underestimate most college-level defenders.
However, if Jean had known that Coach Elgert of Schalke 04 had evaluated Franck as a strong candidate for the youth team, he might have been more cautious. But that was a hypothetical—what mattered now was the reality unfolding on the pitch.
The moment came when Jean managed to shake off the full-back and found himself facing Franck. He attempted to exploit what he perceived as Franck's weakness—his height and higher center of gravity. Jean executed a swift nutmeg, aiming to slip the ball through Franck's legs and dart past him. But Franck was quicker than Jean had anticipated. With a deft turn, Franck positioned himself between Jean and the ball, using his body to shield it and effectively neutralize the threat.
Jean, taken aback by Franck's agility and defensive acumen, tried to change direction and press forward, hoping to force Franck into a mistake. Instead, Franck held his ground, the ball securely under his feet. After two seconds, Franck flicked his heel, sending the ball through Jean's legs—using the very same move Jean had attempted moments earlier—before passing it cleanly to a midfielder.
Jean froze, his face darkening with a mix of surprise and anger. It was clear that Franck had deliberately turned the tables on him, showing him up with the same technique.
"You think you're tough?" Jean muttered under his breath, his frustration evident.
From the sidelines, the spectators might not have fully grasped the significance of what had just occurred, but Franck's teammates understood. This wasn't just a defensive play—it was a statement. Franck had not only defended against Jean's attack but had also delivered a psychological blow, reminding Jean that he wasn't as invincible as he thought.
As the game continued, the contrast between the two players became more apparent. Jean, while skilled and fast, was too focused on proving his individual brilliance. Franck, on the other hand, was playing with a broader understanding of the game, aware of the bigger picture and how his actions could influence the entire team.
It was clear to everyone watching that Franck had the upper hand—not just physically, but mentally as well.