The locker room was steeped in tension. The match against Zebrão wasn't just another game; it was a crucial step in keeping Vitória in contention for the lead in the championship's points phase. The players were in their usual seats—some sitting in silence, others exchanging quick words to ease their nerves. The atmosphere was thick with expectation, a collective anticipation that everyone could feel.
Coach Cerqueira entered the room with his clipboard in hand, his firm gaze and commanding presence instantly silencing any murmurs. He walked to the center of the room, standing tall, scanning each player before finally speaking.
"Gentlemen, we've reached the point where there's no room for mistakes. Today, you're not just stepping onto the field to play football. Today, you're stepping out there to prove why you wear this jersey. Vitória carries history, weight, and above all, responsibility. Each of you has been chosen to carry that. And now is the time to give back."
Cerqueira paused, letting his words settle. He turned to Nathan, sitting near Cleiton.
"Nathan, you've been our go-to man up front. Your composure, your precision—that's what we need today. Don't hesitate. If the chance comes, take it. Show why you're one of the leaders of this team."
Nathan nodded, his expression serious and focused.
"And you, Claudio," Cerqueira continued, turning to the midfielder. "I don't just want pretty passes. I want grit, determination in the midfield. You're the heartbeat of this team today. Make it pulse."
Claudio offered a faint smile and tapped his chest with his hand, a sign of his confidence and readiness.
The coach then turned to Dieguinho, the left-back. "Diego, no room for gaps on your side. Shut down every play. And when you push forward, do it with conviction. You're not just defense. You're part of the attack too."
His sharp eyes swept across the room, each word brimming with the weight of his expectations. Finally, he turned to the captain, goalkeeper Jaime Filho.
"Jaime, your job is simple. You're the last line of defense. Nothing—absolutely nothing—gets past you today."
The locker room remained silent as the players absorbed his speech. In the back, Cleiton and Cássio listened intently, though their reactions differed. Cleiton sat quietly, his face serious, his eyes downcast. The decision to keep him on the bench weighed heavily on him, though he tried to stay composed. He breathed deeply, battling his inner frustration.
Cássio, on the other hand, wore a wide smile, though it was far from genuine. He gestured lightly and made small comments to nearby teammates, maintaining a facade of normalcy. But those who knew him well could see the pain hidden beneath his cheerful demeanor.
Cerqueira placed the clipboard on a nearby table and sighed, his tone softening slightly. "Now, about the lineup. We're going with the same starting eleven as the last match."
The announcement hung in the air for a few seconds. Cleiton clenched his fists momentarily before releasing them and lowering his head. The weight of the decision hit him hard, but he knew complaining wouldn't help. He repeated to himself that his opportunity would come.
Cássio, ever the optimist, forced his smile wider and cracked a joke. "Well, at least I'm rested enough to cheer from the bench. You'll hear my support louder than the crowd!" His quip drew some chuckles from his teammates, but Nathan, sitting between the two, shot him a concerned glance.
Cleiton finally lifted his head and whispered to Nathan, "He's trying to hide it, but he's just as frustrated as I am. I just… I don't know how to pretend like that."
Nathan didn't reply immediately. Instead, he placed a supportive hand on Cleiton's shoulder, offering silent reassurance.
Cássio, noticing Nathan's gaze, quickly shifted the mood, gesturing toward the group. "Today's a day for goals, right? I want to see everyone coming back here with smiles. Let's go, team!"
As the starters stood and began preparing for the warm-up, Cleiton and Cássio lagged behind, slipping on their substitute bibs. Cleiton remained quiet, lost in thought, while Cássio's persistent smile masked his inner turmoil.
"You okay?" Cleiton finally asked, glancing at his friend.
"Of course I am!" Cássio replied, his enthusiasm almost exaggerated. "We're on the bench, sure, but that doesn't mean we're not part of this. Let's cheer and support like never before." He gave Cleiton a light punch on the arm. "And who knows? Maybe we'll get in there and turn the game around, huh?"
Cleiton managed a shy smile but couldn't completely hide his sadness. "You're good at this, you know? Pretending everything's fine."
Cássio paused for a moment, his ever-present smile faltering slightly before reappearing, softer this time. "Look, Cleiton, if I let this get me down, what's left? I can't live dwelling on what's wrong. I'd rather focus on what I can still do, on what's ahead."
Cleiton studied him closely, sensing the sincerity in his words. Cássio exhaled deeply and continued, his tone more serious now. "Listen, we have to believe our time will come. No matter how tough it seems right now. I joke around because that's how I cope, but it doesn't mean I don't feel it. Of course, it hurts, but I won't let it stop me."
Cleiton nodded slowly, taking in the words. "Do you think it's enough? Just keeping the faith?"
"I don't know if it's enough, but it's all we've got right now. And if we give up, then it'll never be enough." Cássio smiled again, this time with a mix of determination and hope. "We'll prove who we are, Cleiton. No matter how long it takes, we'll show them they can count on us."
Cleiton nodded again, this time with a hint of resolve. "I think I'll learn to do that too."
Nathan, who had joined them, gave both a gentle shove. "Don't worry. Today is just another game. You'll get your chance to show what you're made of. I believe in you."
The duo headed to the bench, ready to watch the game. Cássio kept talking loudly and joking with the teammates around him, while Cleiton remained serious, observing everything closely. They knew it wouldn't be easy, but they were determined to prove their worth—even if they had to wait for their moment to shine.
—-
The eastern field of the Metropolitano Roberto Santos Stadium, better known as Pituaçu, buzzed with energy on Saturday afternoon. Vitória's fans turned out in full force, painting the stands red and black, eagerly awaiting the clash against Zebrão. Inside the locker room, head coach Cerqueira was wrapping up tactical instructions while the players made their final adjustments before heading out to the field.
---
Vitória's Lineup (4-3-3):
Goalkeeper: Jaime Filho (1)
Right-back: Robson (14)
Center-back: Ricardo Rocha (3)
Center-back: Marlon Kaio (4)
Left-back: Dieguinho (6)
Defensive Midfielder: Kayque Silva (5)
Central Midfielder: Gabriel Costa (8)
Attacking Midfielder: Cláudio Sousa (10)
Right Winger: Rodrigo (11)
Center Forward: Nathan (9)
Left Winger: Pedrinho (7)
Substitutes:
Jhonathan (12), Cleiton (13), Cássio (2), Jorge (15), William (19)
---
From the bench, Cleiton and Cássio observed attentively. Ever the extrovert, Cássio cheered loudly for his teammates:
"Let's go, guys! Today's the day! Show them what we're made of!"
Cleiton, more reserved, watched the field carefully, already imagining how he would react in similar situations.
The referee's whistle blew, and Vitória quickly took control. Just six minutes in, after a slick exchange of passes in midfield, Gabriel Costa found space and sent a sharp pass to Pedrinho on the left. Pedrinho surged forward with speed, outmaneuvering the opposing fullback before sending a low cross to the edge of the box. Cláudio Sousa arrived in stride and struck the ball first-time with precision into the bottom-right corner, leaving goalkeeper Roger with no chance. 1-0 to Vitória.
The crowd erupted in celebration, and on the bench, Cássio jumped to his feet, yelling:
"What a goal, Cláudio! That's what we needed!"
Cleiton allowed himself a faint smile, pleased with the early advantage.
Vitória continued to press. At the 15th minute, Nathan received the ball with his back to the goal, turned sharply past defender Carlão, and unleashed a powerful shot, but Roger, Zebrão's goalkeeper, made a secure save. At the 22nd minute, Rodrigo crafted a brilliant play on the right flank, delivering a pinpoint cross to Pedrinho, who headed just over the crossbar.
Zebrão, however, wasn't without their moments. At the 28th minute, Mineirinho, their left winger, sprinted down the flank and crossed to Jonas, their towering center-forward. His header was firm and well-directed, but Jaime Filho reacted brilliantly, making a spectacular save to keep Vitória ahead. At the 35th minute, Peu, Zebrão's attacking midfielder, fired a long-range effort that skimmed past the post, drawing gasps from the crowd.
Robson, Vitória's right-back, struggled defensively. At the 40th minute, he lost possession to Mineirinho, who broke into the box and fired a low shot. Once again, Jaime Filho came to the rescue with a critical save. On the sidelines, Cerqueira gestured in frustration, yelling for more focus from Robson.
On the bench, Cleiton was deep in thought:
"If I were in Ricardo's or Marlon's position, I'd need to cover for Robson's mistakes. I have to be ready for moments like these."
Cássio, meanwhile, was vocal as ever, shouting encouragement:
"Come on, Robson! Keep your head in the game! You've got this!"
The first half ended with Vitória leading, but their defensive lapses were glaring. Back in the locker room, Cerqueira's adjustments were paramount to correcting mistakes and solidifying the team's advantage in the second half.
—
The locker room was tense as the Vitória players settled in. Despite leading 1-0, the team's defensive frailties loomed large, casting a shadow over Cláudio Sousa's early goal. Cerqueira's imposing presence filled the room as he paced with his clipboard, his eyes scanning every player before speaking.
"We're ahead, but that means nothing. One mistake, and all the work from the first half goes down the drain. Our lead is fragile—treat it like it is. 1-0 isn't comfortable. We need more. Much more. You've got 45 minutes to prove who you really are!" Cerqueira's voice carried an intensity that left no room for doubt.
"Robson," he continued, fixing his gaze on the right-back. "You need to stay sharp. We can't let their left winger keep finding so much space. Every time you lose possession in defense, it's a gamble. Frankly, we're relying too much on Jaime Filho to save us. He's been brilliant, but we can't keep putting him in these situations."
Robson lowered his head, feeling the weight of the criticism. He rubbed the back of his neck, hiding his discomfort.
"Marlon," Cerqueira turned next, his tone softening slightly. "I know you're pushing through some pain. I can see it. But it's not just the physical side—it's the communication. You and Ricardo need to coordinate better. That lack of organization in the back was an open invitation for Zebrão to attack."
Marlon took a deep breath, his gaze dropping to the floor. He knew his condition wasn't ideal, but the prospect of being subbed out seemed inevitable.
Cleiton and Cássio, standing near the bench, straightened as Cerqueira's eyes landed on them. He paused briefly before addressing them.
"Cleiton, you'll replace Marlon. I know you've been out for a while, but this is your chance to show that you're ready. Lead our defensive line and stay composed on the ball. You've got the experience—trust yourself."
A wave of nervous energy coursed through Cleiton, but it was matched by a firm resolve. This was his moment to prove his worth.
"Robson," Cerqueira continued, "I'm giving you a rest. Cássio, you're stepping in at right-back. I need you to be solid defensively and smart in your overlaps. No overextending—keep it tight and purposeful."
Cássio, though inwardly battling nerves, masked it with his trademark smile. "You can count on me, Coach. I'll give it my all!"
As Cerqueira's words settled in, the team began preparing for the second half. Pedrinho stared at the locker room door, processing his coach's instructions, while Rodrigo's calm demeanor belied the tension he carried.
"Remember, boys," Cerqueira concluded, his voice steady but commanding, "this victory is ours if we stay focused and fix those mistakes. Let's show them who's in charge out there!"
The room was filled with a charged silence as the players absorbed their coach's final words. Cleiton, lacing up his boots, reflected on his journey: 'This is it. My chance at last. If I don't meet the Coach's expectations now, when will I get another shot?'
Beside him, Cássio tied his armband tightly, thinking, 'It's now or never. I can't let this slip away'.
With the substitutions set, Vitória returned to the pitch with renewed determination. The task was clear: tighten the defense, maintain focus, and keep Zebrão from threatening their hard-fought lead. The second half awaited, and the team knew that the outcome rested in their hands.