The sound of raindrops hitting the sandy texture from which the tame leveled grass were drawn out of formed a disorganized symphony which echoed to the surrounding areas.

The orchestra manned by earth, water and thunder sounded in a disorganized rhythm that was both pleasing and disturbing to the ear of the average listener.

A cascade of rain water fell to the ground, creating several wet puddles on the grass.

A boy that looked about sixteen years old stood under the merciless barrage of rain. There was a football at his feet.

The boy had dreadlocks which spanned just short of his ears, his brown eyes were lazer focused on the goal post in front of him.

He was fairly tall, about five feet eleven inches. He had a semi muscular figure which was translucent through his wet clothes sticking to his body.

Omari Hutchingson heaved a sigh as he took one more look at the football that had strayed to a few meters in front of his feet. He shouldn't be here and yet he felt like he had to be here.

At the beginning of last season, he was scouted by Middlesbrough football club under eighteen. After the first few matches, he realized that they had no real intentions of letting him play. He was just one of the warm bodies used to keep the first team players sharp.

Unwilling to accept such as his fate, Omari started practicing for extra hours, working in his dribbling, his shots, his technique. It seemed however, that no matter how much he improved, he still wouldn't be picked to join the first team.

Omari sighed again, then he ran towards the ball, driving it forward with his right foot. Occasionally, he did a few step overs and used his feet to change the direction of the ball.

He continued driving the ball forward until he was within the edge of the left side of the penalty box. He cut inside with his right leg, drove it forward and shot the ball.

He watched as his shot went over the bar and into the stands.

"Oi! Get out of the rain, you'll get sick".

Omari turned to his right and saw an old man wearing a rain coat. He turned back towards the goal post and ran towards where the ball had landed.

Seeing Omari's refusal to take his advice, the old man shrugged and walked away.

Right as Omari was about to get the ball, he slipped and landed head first on the concrete floor holding the seats together.

His head was assaulted by a banging headache which only lasted a few seconds. The headache was succeeded by a feeling of dizziness . His vision slowly blurred until he could only see darkness.

Am I really going to go like this? So this is how I get to die, as an unknown unfortunate youth player.

While he was having what he assumed to be his final thoughts, he heard a ding. He dismissed the signs at first, assuming it to be his brain playing tricks on him during his final moments. He probably wouldn't have registered the sound if not for the fact that he heard it again and again and again.

|Ding! Welcome to The Unlimited Potential System|

|Ding! Host connection complete|

|Complete connection rewards: Skills - step over [Upgradable], curler [Upgradable]|

|Downloading user stats|

|Name: Omari Hutchingson|

|Club: Middlesbrough F.C U18|

|Team role: reserve player|

|Shirt number: 21|

|Attributes|

|Speed: 71|

|Dribbling: 59|

|Shooting: 60|

|Passing: 67|

|Accuracy: 54|

|Physique: 73|

|Crossing: 61|

|Pace: 78|

|Overall Player Rating: 64|

|Overall Player Potential: 75|

|Skills: Stepover [Upgradable], Curler [Upgradable]|

|Titles: Nil|

|Awards: Nil|

What the fuck?!

What the hell is this?!