The scorching Saturday heat set the stage for the clash between Vitória and Jacuipense, marking the 12th round of the Campeonato Baiano Sub-17. The red-and-black crowd filled the stands, singing and cheering for their team since the warm-ups. For Cleiton and Cássio, this game was more than just three points—it was an opportunity to prove their worth.
The opening whistle signaled the start of an intense match. Vitória began by pressing high, dominating possession, and dictating the rhythm of the game. Cleiton, as always, commanded the defense with authority, while Cássio stood out on the right flank, taking every chance to push forward.
At the 12th minute, Jacuipense attempted to surprise Vitória. In a swift counterattack, their striker received a through ball and charged towards the goal at full speed. Cleiton, alert as ever, read the play perfectly. Sprinting to close the angle, he executed a flawless sliding tackle, deflecting the ball out of danger. The stadium erupted in applause.
At the 19th minute, Jacuipense had their best chance so far. A dangerous cross came from the left, bypassing the entire defense. The opposing forward headed the ball firmly towards an empty net, but Cleiton, in a reflexive burst and desperate sprint, cleared it off the line with a precise slide. He quickly stood up, gesturing for his teammates to reorganize the defense as the crowd chanted his name.
While Cleiton acted as a defensive wall, Cássio dazzled on the right side. At the 23rd minute, he received the ball near midfield, sped forward, and left the opposing fullback in the dust with a dazzling dribble. Despite having passing options, he chose to go solo, cutting inside and whipping a powerful cross into the box. Nathan's header missed the target, but the effort drew gasps of excitement from the crowd.
At the 30th minute, Cleiton began leveraging the **Diamond-Rank Protection Belt**. In a duel with Jacuipense's striker, he absorbed the impact and stood firm like a rock, stripping the ball cleanly and calmly initiating a counterattack. He marveled at the item's effectiveness: his movements felt sharper, and physical clashes barely fazed him.
However, this newfound confidence soon morphed into aggressive challenges. At the 37th minute, Cleiton barreled into an attacker attempting to breach the penalty area, flooring him with a crunching tackle that drew roars from the stands. The referee, having kept an eye on Cleiton, wasted no time showing a yellow card. Cleiton raised his hands in acknowledgment, though his expression made it clear he was willing to push the limits to protect his team.
Cássio, meanwhile, was putting on his own show. At the 40th minute, he found himself near the sideline, surrounded by two defenders. With a quick succession of feints, he slipped past both, earning cheers from the crowd. Racing to the byline, instead of pulling back or seeking support, he aimed a direct shot at the goal. The goalkeeper parried it, but the play showcased his confidence and flair.
Yet, the desire to impress began taking its toll. As Cássio focused on attacking, his defensive duties suffered. At the 43rd minute, Jacuipense nearly exploited the space he left behind, but Cleiton once again came to the rescue, intercepting a dangerous pass with a pinpoint slide and clearing the ball to safety.
The first half ended with the score still level. Cleiton and Cássio had each displayed their drive to excel, but as they walked off the pitch, both knew adjustments were necessary for the second half. Cleiton needed to balance intensity with control, while Cássio had to decide when to attack and when to fall back to support the defense.
Coach Cerqueira observed everything with a furrowed brow. He recognized the passion and determination of his players but also understood the fine line between brilliance and recklessness. The second half promised to be even more demanding, and Vitória would need every player to perform flawlessly to secure the win.
The halftime break began with a tense atmosphere in the locker room. Vitória's players were visibly fatigued yet determined to claim victory against Jacuipense. Coach Cerqueira entered with his clipboard, walking slowly to the center of the room. He took a deep breath, scanning the sweaty, attentive faces around him. Yet his gaze seemed to deliberately skip over Cleiton and Cássio.
"Well done in the first half, boys. We're controlling most of the game, but we need to be more efficient in the final third. Keep pressing and capitalize on the space we're creating down the flanks." He paused, observing the players' reactions, his tone steady. "The defense is holding well, but we must avoid unnecessary fouls. We can't give the opposition any opportunity to build momentum."
Cleiton and Cássio sat in silence, their expressions tense. It was as if Cerqueira's words bypassed them entirely, leaving them feeling invisible. The coach spent the next few minutes detailing tactical adjustments for the second half, maintaining a professional tone without directing any praise or criticism their way.
Then, with deliberate calm, he announced, "We're making two changes for the second half. Marlon Kaio will replace Cleiton in defense. Robson will be improvised on the right flank in place of Cássio."
The locker room fell silent. Cleiton clenched his fists, his face a mix of disbelief and anger. But before he could speak, Cássio jumped up from his seat, his eyes wide with indignation.
"But, coach, why? I'm playing well, doing my job!" He gestured emphatically, his frustration clear. "This doesn't make sense!"
Cerqueira kept his face impassive, showing no trace of emotion. He took a sip of water, set the bottle aside, and calmly looked at the other players.
"Everyone, head back to the field. I need to speak with these two alone."
The players hesitated for a moment but soon got up and left the locker room, throwing curious glances at Cleiton and Cássio as they exited. Once the door closed, the silence became almost deafening. Cerqueira turned to Cássio with a serious expression, though not one of anger—more like a teacher preparing to deliver a hard lesson.
"Cássio, what position do you play?" he asked, his voice low and controlled.
Cássio frowned, confused by the question.
"Right-back, coach."
Cerqueira nodded, as if deeply contemplating the answer.
"Oh, right-back? I could've sworn I had two right wingers out there today by mistake."
The statement cut through the air like a blade. Cássio immediately fell silent, swallowing hard as shame and frustration spread across his face.
Before the coach could say anything else, Cleiton, still seated, crossed his arms and spoke up.
"He was right, coach. Only players who score goals get recognition in this team. Too bad there wasn't a corner kick so I could try to score myself. Maybe if I were more offensive, I'd finally get noticed."
The words dripped with sarcasm and frustration, and Cleiton kept complaining, his voice rising with each sentence. Cerqueira, however, silenced him with a sharp, authoritative glare, forcing Cleiton to stop talking, albeit reluctantly. The coach remained quiet for a moment, arms crossed, studying the two young players as if he had finally pieced everything together.
"Oh... now I get it," Cerqueira said slowly, his tone laced with disdain. "It's the damn sponsorship, isn't it? You two have let it mess with your heads. Fine, here's the deal: you're both benched for the rest of this match. And don't bother showing up for tomorrow's game."
Cleiton and Cássio stared at him, wide-eyed and speechless, but before they could utter a word, Cerqueira continued, his voice now filled with firm authority.
"I don't need a center-back who's more of a butcher, ready to get sent off with a red card at any moment and leave the team stranded. And I certainly don't need a full-back who looks like he's about to abandon his position and become a forward. Do you think this is some kind of joke?"
Cássio opened his mouth to respond, but Cerqueira raised a hand to stop him.
"Don't even bother sitting on the bench. I want you both gone. Go home. Rest, reflect, do whatever you need to do. But I don't want to see your faces until Monday's training session. And pray. Pray that we win these two matches because, if we don't, you'll answer to me."
Cerqueira pointed toward the locker room door, his message crystal clear. Cleiton and Cássio stood up, both wearing expressions of anger and shame, but neither dared to argue further. In silence, they grabbed their things and left the room, burdened by the weight of their actions.
With backpacks slung over their shoulders, Cleiton and Cássio trudged across the field, heads bowed. The rest of the team, whether sitting on the bench or stretching near the sideline, watched quietly. Murmurs spread among the players, but no one dared say anything aloud. Nathan, who had sensed the tense atmosphere earlier, set his water bottle aside and ran over to them.
"Hey, what happened? Why are you leaving?" Nathan asked, concerned as he approached.
Cleiton didn't look up, only shaking his head, refusing to answer. Cássio, standing beside him, tried to force a smile but failed. He merely gave Nathan a light pat on the shoulder without saying a word. Their silence was deafening. Nathan stood there, watching as his friends crossed the field toward the exit, feeling the weight of a growing distance between them.
Cleiton and Cássio walked to the nearby bus stop in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. When they finally boarded the bus, they sat side by side, the tension between them almost tangible.
It was Cássio who broke the silence, unable to contain his thoughts any longer.
"We really messed up, didn't we?" he said, staring straight ahead, avoiding Cleiton's gaze. "We know the sponsorship was the brand's decision, that the coach had nothing to do with it... and yet we took our frustrations out on the team and on Cerqueira. What idiots."
Cleiton remained silent for a moment before nodding, acknowledging the truth in Cássio's words.
"Yeah, it was stupid. But at the time... I couldn't think straight. It was just... anger. Anger at being overlooked, anger at all the effort feeling worthless." He sighed, staring out the window as the streets of their neighborhood blurred past. "And deep down, we knew Cerqueira was right. But hearing it—it hurt."
Cássio agreed, running a frustrated hand through his hair.
"I think we lost ourselves in all of this. We tried to prove a point in the wrong way and ended up making the coach lose his patience with us."
After a moment of silence, Cássio suggested, "Let's head to the square, see the guys, and try to forget about this for a bit. I can't deal with this alone right now."
Cleiton nodded. Being around friends was better than sinking deeper into his own thoughts. They got off at the stop near the square, where the familiar sound of laughter and animated conversations from their neighborhood group greeted them. When they arrived, they were met with warm greetings, which brought both a sense of relief.
The afternoon passed slowly, filled with jokes and light-hearted banter, but the weight of what had happened still hung over them. As night fell, Nathan showed up, walking briskly and still wearing part of his uniform.
"There you are!" Nathan said, hands on his hips, catching his breath. "The team won 2-1, but you've got to tell me what happened. Why did Cerqueira send you two home early?"
Cleiton and Cássio exchanged glances, knowing they couldn't avoid the conversation any longer. Cleiton spoke first, his voice low.
"We lost control, Nathan. We let our emotions get the better of us instead of playing for the team. And the coach punished us for it—and rightly so."
Cássio chimed in, his tone full of regret.
"Man, I wasn't even playing like a proper right-back. I ignored my role, tried to be something I'm not. It was all frustration... envy, even. And Cleiton… he started going in way too hard on their players, almost injured one of them. It wasn't us out there, you know? It was just… anger taking over."
Nathan, visibly surprised, looked at them for a moment before responding.
"You could have talked to me. We've been friends since we were kids, remember? You could've vented before letting it get this far." He sighed, shaking his head. "But I get it. This whole sponsorship thing has gotten to everyone, and maybe I'm just as much to blame. I know being chosen was a privilege, but I don't want this to come between us."
Cleiton lowered his head, his voice hesitant.
"It wasn't your fault, Nathan. It wasn't anyone's fault but ours. I think we just wanted… to prove something. But we ended up making things worse."
Cássio nodded, looking directly at Nathan.
"The truth is, we screwed up. Now all we can do is fix it. Train harder, do what we do best, and try to win back Cerqueira's trust. And… maybe learn to handle this kind of stuff better."
Nathan nodded, a warm, understanding smile spreading across his face.
"You're not alone in this. We're a team, no matter what. But you've got to come back strong on Monday. Show everyone who you really are."
After the conversation, the three of them sat in silence for a moment, letting the weight of their words sink in. Cleiton and Cássio felt a sense of relief, as if a heavy burden had been lifted off their shoulders.
As the night deepened, the friends parted ways, each heading home with their own reflections and plans for the future. Cleiton knew that regaining Cerqueira's trust and the team's respect wouldn't be easy, but he was determined to do it the right way this time. And as he looked up at the starry sky on his way home, he felt a glimmer of hope.