Narrator: ENZO
"Where have you been? We've been working for hours and you were nowhere to be seen. Do you know how hard I work for the familia? All I ask is that you at least help out. Why are you so selfish? Your brother is sick, and I can't afford his bills. I told you I got you a job at my workplace, and the pay was even better than mine. In two weeks, we could pay your brother's medical bills. And what do you do? You go off to play soccer. What have you gained from playing soccer today? If your brother dies, it's all your fault."
I looked somber as my mom scolded me. I wasn't being selfish; Coach had told me a scout from Red Zone would be present at our next game. I couldn't miss this match. Our whole living situation could totally change if I got a contract from Red Zone.
My mom landed a slap for the ages on my right cheek before laughing hysterically. She asked if I really thought I could be a soccer star. I told her I did, and she laughed even more.
She told me I could never be a professional soccer player, and the sooner I stopped living in my fantasies and started living in the real world, the better it would be for me and the familia.
She proceeded to tell me I owed her for all she had sacrificed and spent raising my ungrateful ass. With tears in my eyes, I told her to make a list of all she had spent on me and convert her sacrifices to money. She should compile the list, tell me how much it cost, and I would repay her when I was rich.
Her response was that I could never make enough to repay her. As I stood, fueled by rage, she told me the only way I could realistically pay her back was by listening to her now. "You can play soccer for the rest of this month, but starting next month, you get a job and work full-time. Is that understood, ENZO Rámon Sánchez?" I nodded and walked out to cry myself to sleep in my room.
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"ENZO, pass, pass," I didn't even care enough to look up. The scout was here, and I needed to show him what I could do. It had only been a few days since my mom laid out what she wanted my future to be, but like hell would I let that be it for me. No way in hell.
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The referee blew for half-time, and I just walked to the dressing room. I had played a horrible game; I sucked today. If I didn't impress the scout today, it was over for me.
I was so lost in thought that I ignored what the coach was saying. We were four goals down, and I was probably the worst player on the field today. It was so over for me.
The coach tapped me before holding my arm and dragging me outside the locker room. He told me I had been crap all game and he knew why, but I had to realize it by myself.
He asked me what was different today. I asked him what he meant, and that's when he told me. I was trying so hard to impress the scout that it was affecting not just me but the team.
The scout had informed our coach he wanted to leave and that this was a waste of time, but Coach had begged him to stay.
Coach told me he had played his part; what happened next was now left to me. I nodded, and on his last note, he told me to just play this game like no one was watching and everything would be fine. I nodded and thanked Coach.
This was it, the half that decided my life. The other team had the ball for the beginning of the second half, and they did something wonderful with it.
Well, not they—he. JAMES RAMIREZ, my best friend, or at least he used to be.
He hit the ball straight from the first kick and lodged it into my team's net. We were now five goals down. I knew it; it was over for me. I looked over at the scout, and he just gave a clap to JAMES. I honestly cannot tell you how much despair I was in at that moment.
JAMES had just scored a hat-trick. If the scout was going to pick anyone, it was him. Tears welled up in my eyes as I lost all hope, but I looked at Coach, and he just told me it wasn't over until the final whistle was blown.
Wait, that's true. If this was going to be the last game I ever played, well, I'm going to play it well and give it my all. Screw the scout, I'll fight to the death here.
I got the ball, and once we were cleared to kick off, I lodged the ball in the top right corner of the opponent's goal. Hell yeah, that's one down, four to go. You should have seen the faces of our opponents.
They did not expect this, especially not after JAMES had just done it. But I knew this wouldn't work again. They'd be ready now; I needed more goals from other avenues.
Once the ball was passed from kickoff, I ran and did a sliding tackle. Once I had the ball, I passed to Javi, a midfielder on my team, who passed it to Charles, another midfielder on my team.
Javi lobbed the ball into the box, and I rose above all heads, even above the gloves of their goalkeeper, and put the ball into the net with a bullet of a header.
Two down, three to go. I didn't have the same luck from kickoff this time, though. JAMES did an elastico, and as I slid to get the ball, I got nutmegged, landing straight on my ass as I went down for the tackle.
He passed to one of his teammates, who dribbled past three of mine before reconnecting with JAMES via a one-two.
There were six players in the box and one goalkeeper. Three other players were tracking JAMES from the back, but he didn't care. He played a venomous shot that would have gone in if my keeper hadn't outdone himself with a perfect save.
The corner was played and bounced off the head of one of my players. That's it, we could counter now. I ran at full speed as the ball was lobbed into the other half. With my speed, surely no one could catch up.
I ran and ran until I got to the box. The goalkeeper rushed to size me up. I did step-overs and ended them with a fake shot to the right side of the post.
The goalkeeper dived to the right, and I just slotted it into the bottom left corner of the post. Hell yeah, three down, two to go. The ball was played back from kickoff this time; they didn't want to take any chances.
I ran to the defense and started marking the players, but they just toyed with me, exchanging passes among themselves as I struggled to touch the ball.
One of them played a weak pass to the goalkeeper, and I intercepted it. But the goalkeeper had completely sized me up.
His defenders were also too close for comfort. I could try to score, but the chances were very low. "ENZO," I recognized that voice. It was Charles. I lobbed the ball to him, and we all watched in amazement as he scored a bicycle kick.
Yes, the goalpost was empty, but the technique was great nonetheless. We had a chance now—one goal left to go.
The game turned into a dull affair afterward, and no goals were scored until the very last minute. I played a corner, but it was played out of the box. It graciously landed back to me.
I tried to score from where I was but put in a laughable amount of power. I knew it; the game had finally slipped away.
GOAL!!! The crowd screamed. Huh? What had happened? I had scored? No, it wasn't me; it was Jadon. He had somehow scored from my shot, probably because it was more of a cross than a shot, but it was amazing nonetheless.
The scout called both James and I after the game. He told us he was super impressed and wanted us at the next Red Zone trials. He told us that if we qualified, our family would get a million euros automatically.
My eyes widened as I gasped from excitement. What? A million? Even before I became anything—wow, just wow.
I got home and showered. It was the best shower I had ever had. I was overjoyed. I had made it. My father always told me before he passed away, "Take responsibility for your life.
One day, you might stare at the one who ruined your life, and it would be YOU—the man in the mirror." As I looked in the mirror today, I realized one thing: one man had exceeded all expectations, and it was THE MAN IN THE MIRROR.....