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Chapter 3: The First Impressions
Elias couldn't stop his heart from pounding in his chest as he walked off the field after the scrimmage. The match had been intense, and despite his nerves, he'd played with a focus and determination he'd never known before. His legs felt like lead, but there was no time to rest. Not now.
As he walked past the group of boys, he overheard their chatter. Some of them were excited about the game, others were complaining about missed opportunities. Elias didn't care about their opinions. He only cared about one thing: showing the coaches he belonged here.
He quickly grabbed his water bottle, taking a long sip before wiping his brow with the back of his hand. The air was thick with tension as more boys filled the pitch, each of them eager to impress. Elias's focus narrowed as he spotted one of the coaches, a man with short-cropped hair and a stern expression, who was now standing with a clipboard in his hand.
The coach was taking notes, his eyes scanning the players, pausing briefly on Elias as he jogged past. It was only a fleeting glance, but it felt like a lifeline to Elias. It was a sign that he wasn't invisible, that his effort hadn't gone unnoticed.
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The trial continued, with the coaches rotating players in and out of the matches. Elias's team won their match 2-1, thanks to his crucial goal and an assist he'd set up for one of his teammates. The match wasn't just about scoring; it was about how he moved off the ball, how he anticipated the play before it happened. He tried to do everything the way his idols did. Every movement, every pass, every sprint was intentional.
"Not bad, kid," one of the coaches muttered as he passed by, scribbling something on his clipboard.
Elias's eyes widened. Did he just say that to me?
But he didn't have time to linger on the comment. The trial was still going, and the final round was coming up. This was the moment of truth—the moment that would decide whether or not he had a future at La Masia.
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As the trial progressed, Elias could feel the exhaustion creeping in. His muscles ached, his breathing was shallow, and yet he pushed forward, refusing to let fatigue slow him down. The next scrimmage would be the hardest yet: it was a full match, with the best players from the day's trials on one team, and the rest on the other.
Elias's team was up first. His heart raced as he took his position on the field, lining up with the other players. He glanced around, noticing a few familiar faces from earlier. One boy in particular, a tall player with dark hair and a confident smile, caught Elias's attention. The boy had been playing aggressively all day, clearly looking to make a statement. Elias knew he'd have to be careful.
"Let's show them what we've got," Elias whispered to his teammates, his voice steady despite the storm of thoughts in his head. He'd watched enough football to know that this was the moment when players showed their true potential. He couldn't afford to hesitate. He had to be the best on the pitch.
The game kicked off, and immediately, the intensity ramped up. Elias found himself matched up against the confident boy he'd noticed earlier. The two exchanged challenges, their feet flying as they raced to control the ball. It wasn't long before the first real test of the match came—a quick, decisive counterattack that saw Elias break free from his marker and sprint down the left wing.
The ball came to him in perfect stride, and for a brief moment, time seemed to slow. Elias's mind was clear, his feet moved without hesitation, and with a powerful strike, he sent the ball toward the goal. The goalkeeper lunged to his left, but the shot was too precise, too fast. It sailed into the corner of the net with a satisfying thud.
"GOAL!" one of the coaches shouted, his voice cutting through the cheers of the other players.
Elias's teammates surrounded him, clapping him on the back and shouting words of encouragement. But Elias barely heard them. His focus was fixed on the coaches—on the men who had seen his every move, every strike, every pass. They had to be watching. They had to see what he could do.
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The rest of the match played out in a blur. Elias's team scored two more goals, one coming from a cross Elias had sent into the box, perfectly timed for a teammate to finish. His teammates looked at him in awe, but Elias wasn't interested in the praise. He was focused only on the coaches, who were now huddled together, discussing something in low voices.
When the final whistle blew, Elias felt a wave of relief wash over him. The trial was over. All he could do now was wait. He stood still on the field, watching as the other players celebrated their victories and exchanged numbers for future games.
But Elias didn't join them. He didn't care about anything except the result. He walked slowly off the pitch, his mind racing with the possibilities of what came next.
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As he made his way to the sidelines, he spotted his mother and Nelson waiting near the gates. His mother was talking to a few other parents, her voice filled with the warmth that always made Elias feel safe. Nelson, on the other hand, was watching Elias closely, a proud smile tugging at his lips.
"Well?" Elias asked, his heart beating faster. "How'd I do?"
Nelson gave him a thumbs-up. "You did great, Elias. I'm proud of you."
Elias's chest swelled with pride, but there was still that nagging feeling of uncertainty. "But did I make it?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Nelson shrugged. "We'll see. It's not up to us now."
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As they made their way back home, Elias couldn't shake the feeling that everything had changed. He had given it his all, and now, it was in the hands of the coaches. His dreams of playing for La Masia, of becoming the best striker in the world, were closer than ever. But he knew that this was just the beginning. Whatever happened next, he would continue to fight for his place on the team. No matter what.
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