2: Unseen Pressure

The day after their hard-fought victory over Crestwood, the Riverwood High soccer team returned to practice. The win had injected a fresh wave of energy into the squad, but Liam Donovan was anything but relaxed. The memory of the mysterious man in the suit lingered in his mind, fueling a mix of excitement and anxiety. If that man was a scout, it could mean everything Liam had worked for was finally within reach. But the uncertainty gnawed at him, and he knew he couldn't afford to get ahead of himself.

Coach Evans, a no-nonsense man with a reputation for tough love, began the session with a review of the previous game. They huddled around him near the sidelines as he held up a whiteboard marked with tactical diagrams. "Yesterday's match was a solid performance, but we're not out of the woods yet," Evans began, his voice stern but encouraging. "Crestwood was tough, but there are harder games ahead. We need to stay sharp."

The coach's words were a sobering reminder that one victory didn't guarantee their survival in the league. The relegation battle was far from over, and every point mattered.

As practice got underway, Liam focused on refining his game. His legs were still sore from the previous day's match, but he pushed through, determined to improve. He knew that if he wanted to catch the eye of scouts—or whoever that man was—he needed to elevate his play even further.

The team ran through a series of drills, working on ball control, passing accuracy, and movement off the ball. Coach Evans emphasized the importance of quick, decisive play—something that would be critical against their upcoming opponents, who were known for their organized defense. Liam found himself partnered with Kyle Harding during a passing drill. They worked well together, exchanging quick, precise passes, and coordinating their movements to simulate in-game scenarios.

"Nice work, Donovan," Kyle said, clapping Liam on the back as they finished the drill. "You've been on fire lately."

Liam nodded, appreciative of the compliment, but his mind was elsewhere. The pressure he felt was mounting. Every pass, every touch, felt like it was being scrutinized—not just by Coach Evans, but by that unseen presence, that potential scout. He couldn't shake the feeling that his every move was being watched, evaluated.

The rest of the practice passed in a blur of drills and tactical exercises. By the time it was over, the sun had dipped low in the sky, casting long shadows across the field. The players were dismissed, and Liam lingered behind, taking a few extra shots on goal. Each strike was an attempt to clear his mind, but the uncertainty gnawed at him.

As he was about to leave, Coach Evans approached him. "Liam, got a minute?"

Liam turned, his heart skipping a beat. "Sure, Coach," he replied, trying to keep his voice steady.

Evans studied him for a moment before speaking. "You played well yesterday. That assist to Kyle—that's what we need more of. But I also noticed you've been pushing yourself harder lately, maybe a bit too hard."

Liam tensed, unsure of where this was going. "I'm just trying to get better, Coach. I know I need to improve if I want to help the team."

"Don't get me wrong, your work ethic is great," Evans said, "but I've been around long enough to know when a player's got something on their mind. You're focused, but there's a tension in your play. What's going on?"

Liam hesitated. Should he tell Evans about the man he saw at the game? Would it make him seem paranoid, or worse, desperate? But he couldn't keep it to himself any longer.

"There was a man at the game yesterday," Liam began, choosing his words carefully. "He was watching me, I think. He wasn't dressed like a regular fan—he looked more like a scout."

Coach Evans listened, his expression unreadable. When Liam finished, Evans nodded slowly. "I saw him too. Didn't think much of it at the time, but if he was watching you specifically, that's a good sign. But Liam, you need to keep your head on straight. Scouts come and go, and not every one of them will give you the shot you're looking for. All you can do is focus on your game, on this team."

"I know, Coach," Liam said, though his voice lacked confidence.

Evans placed a hand on Liam's shoulder. "Listen, you've got talent, no doubt about that. But talent alone isn't enough. You've got to stay grounded, keep working hard, and trust that your moment will come. Don't let the pressure eat you up."

Liam nodded, grateful for the advice but still feeling the weight of expectation pressing down on him. "Thanks, Coach."

"Now go home and get some rest," Evans said, his tone softening. "We've got another big game in a few days, and we'll need you at your best."

As Liam walked home, the twilight sky deepening above him, he replayed the conversation in his mind. Evans was right—he couldn't let the pressure consume him. But knowing that didn't make it any easier.

The next few days passed in a blur of school, practice, and restless nights. Liam couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to happen, something that would change everything. He began to notice every little thing—the way his teammates interacted with him, the whispers in the locker room, the subtle glances from Coach Evans. It all added to the mounting pressure.

Finally, the day of the next match arrived. This time, they were playing against Westfield High, a team known for their solid defense and disciplined play. Westfield wasn't as physically imposing as Crestwood, but they were tactically astute, often frustrating opponents with their ability to shut down attacks before they even began.

The match took place at Westfield's home ground, a larger and better-maintained field than Riverwood's. As Liam and his teammates walked out onto the pitch, he took in the surroundings—the neatly trimmed grass, the small but passionate crowd, the crisp evening air. He could feel the tension in the atmosphere, the unspoken understanding that this game was crucial for both teams.

From the opening whistle, it was clear that this would be a very different game from the one against Crestwood. Westfield played a patient, possession-based game, moving the ball around with precision and waiting for gaps to appear in Riverwood's defense. Their midfield, led by a clever playmaker named Ethan Lawson, dictated the tempo, keeping the ball away from Riverwood's attackers and frustrating any attempts to press.

Liam found himself chasing shadows in the early minutes, trying to disrupt Westfield's rhythm but finding few opportunities to do so. Every time Riverwood won the ball, Westfield's defense would quickly reorganize, closing down passing lanes and forcing Liam and his teammates to play backward.

As the first half wore on, Liam grew more frustrated. He knew he needed to make an impact, but the game wasn't providing him with the opportunities he needed. Every time he received the ball, he was immediately surrounded by two or three Westfield players, giving him no space to maneuver.

Then, in the 30th minute, Westfield's patience paid off. Lawson, who had been orchestrating the play from deep, suddenly switched gears, launching a perfectly weighted through ball that split Riverwood's defense. Their striker, a quick and agile player named Max Taylor, latched onto the pass and took off toward goal. Jake Harrison tried to close him down, but Taylor was too fast. With a calm, composed finish, he slotted the ball past Chris Alvarez and into the net.

The home crowd erupted, and Liam felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. They were down 1-0, and the way Westfield was playing, it wouldn't be easy to claw back.

As the first half came to a close, Riverwood's players walked off the pitch, their heads down. Coach Evans quickly gathered them in the locker room, his expression tense but controlled.

"We're not out of this game yet," he began, his voice firm. "Westfield's got a lead, but they're not invincible. We've been too passive, letting them dictate the play. That needs to change. We need to be more aggressive, take the game to them."

He looked around the room, his eyes settling on Liam. "Liam, you've been quiet out there. We need you to take more risks, push their fullbacks, and create something out of nothing. Don't wait for the game to come to you—go out there and make something happen."

Liam nodded, feeling the pressure mount once again. He knew Evans was right—he needed to step up. The second half was his chance to prove himself.

As the team returned to the field, Liam felt a renewed sense of purpose. He couldn't afford to hesitate. From the moment the second half kicked off, he threw himself into the game with newfound determination. He started making more aggressive runs, demanding the ball, and taking on defenders whenever he had the chance.

In the 55th minute, his efforts nearly paid off. After a quick interchange of passes with Kyle, Liam found himself in space on the left wing. He drove toward the box, cutting inside onto his right foot. Two Westfield defenders closed in on him, but Liam kept his composure, feinting one way before shifting the ball to his other foot and unleashing a curling shot toward the far corner.

For a split second, it looked like the ball would nestle into the top corner, but it clipped the outside of the post and went wide. The crowd let out a collective gasp, and Liam dropped his head in frustration. It had been so close—just inches away from leveling the score.

But there was no time to dwell on the miss. Westfield quickly reset, maintaining their disciplined approach. Riverwood, however, seemed to find a new rhythm. The near-miss galvanized the team, and they began pressing higher, forcing Westfield into mistakes.

In the 70th minute, that pressure finally paid off. Liam, now playing with a sense of urgency, intercepted a sloppy pass from one of Westfield's defenders. He immediately drove toward the penalty area, sensing that this could be the moment they had been waiting for. Westfield's center-backs rushed to close him down, but Liam spotted an opening. Instead of shooting, he slid a perfectly timed pass to Kyle Harding, who was making a late run into the box.

Kyle didn't hesitate. He took one touch to control the ball and then fired a low, driven shot toward the bottom corner. This time, there was no post to save Westfield. The ball zipped past the keeper and into the net.

The Riverwood bench erupted in cheers, and Liam felt a wave of relief wash over him. They were back in the game.

With the score tied at 1-1, the momentum had shifted. Westfield, no longer content to play cautiously, began pushing forward in search of a winner. The match opened up, with both teams exchanging attacks. It was a frantic, end-to-end affair, with the crowd on the edge of their seats.

In the 85th minute, Westfield earned a dangerous free kick just outside the box. Once again, Ethan Lawson stood over the ball, his intent clear. Liam held his breath as Lawson curled the ball toward the top corner. It was a beautifully struck effort, but Chris Alvarez, continuing his excellent form, made another acrobatic save, tipping the ball over the bar.

With only a few minutes left, both teams threw everything they had into finding a winner. The game had turned into a test of endurance, with players on both sides running on fumes. But Liam knew that this was when matches were often decided—not just by skill, but by willpower.

In the 90th minute, as the clock ticked toward full time, Riverwood mounted one last attack. The ball was played out wide to Liam, who was operating in space on the left wing. He took on his defender, beating him with a burst of speed, and drove toward the byline. From there, he whipped in a low, hard cross into the box, aiming for the chaos in front of the goal.

The ball ricocheted off a Westfield defender, bouncing dangerously in the six-yard box. For a split second, it seemed like no one would get to it, but then Jake Harrison, who had pushed forward for the final play, threw himself at the ball. His outstretched foot made contact, sending the ball rolling into the net.

The Riverwood players erupted in jubilation, swarming Jake as the referee signaled for a goal. It was a scrappy, ugly goal, but it didn't matter. They had taken the lead with just seconds remaining.

Westfield barely had time to restart the match before the final whistle blew. Riverwood had won, 2-1.

Liam fell to his knees, exhausted but elated. The team had pulled off another improbable victory, and he had played a crucial role in both goals. As he caught his breath, he looked up at the stands, half-expecting to see the man in the suit again. But there was no sign of him.

Instead, Liam found himself surrounded by his teammates, who were celebrating wildly. Kyle pulled him to his feet, grinning from ear to ear. "You did it again, Donovan. That cross was perfect."

Liam smiled, but the weight of expectation still lingered in the back of his mind. They had won, but the season was far from over, and so were the challenges that lay ahead.