The Weight of Dreams
The metallic sound of the shovel digging into the sand echoed in the hot afternoon air. Sweat dripped down Cleiton's forehead as he adjusted the load in the wheelbarrow, feeling the ache in his back. It was just another day working as a construction worker's assistant, but for him, each grain of sand he moved was a step further away from his dream of becoming a football player—and more specifically, a great center-back.
He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and looked out at the horizon. The golden sun was beginning to set, and he knew it wouldn't be long before it was time for practice. Every day was a rush: work, school, training, home. The routine was exhausting, and there were days when he wondered if it was all worth it. But he always remembered one thing—the red and black uniform with the Vitória emblem.
After months playing on dirt courts and in street tournaments, he had finally secured a spot in the youth division of Vitória, one of the biggest football clubs in the region. For Cleiton, it was more than just an opportunity; it was a gateway to a better future, a chance to lift his family out of poverty and, in a way, fulfill the dream his father had to abandon.
"Cleiton! Hurry up, boy!" The shout from his father, José, snapped him out of his thoughts. The man was tall and strong, his hands calloused from years of hard work. José had once been a promising center-back himself but had to give up that dream to support his family, surrendering to the harsh realities of life. Cleiton knew that somewhere in his father's tired eyes lay a glimmer of that old dream, and that's why he had promised himself he would be a center-back, honoring his father's legacy.
"I'm coming, Dad!" he replied, quickening his pace to finish the last load of sand. Once they were done, Cleiton hurriedly packed up his things and waved goodbye to his father. "Be careful, my son," his father said with a half-smile, a mix of pride and exhaustion.
The training field was empty when Cleiton arrived. He quickly put on his uniform, carefully tying his shoelaces. This was the moment he had been waiting for all day. On that grass, under the floodlights, he was not just a construction worker's assistant; he was Cleiton Silva, the boy who wanted to become the next great center-back.
Cleiton didn't have the refined technique of the others, nor the backing of agents or modern equipment. His only advantage was the strong and sturdy body he had built through hard work as a construction worker—strong legs, broad shoulders, and enviable endurance. He knew he needed more than that, but for now, he was counting on his strength to face the challenge.
The head coach of Vitória's youth team, Roberto Cerqueira, an experienced man with a stern look, called the group to the center of the field. "Listen up," Cerqueira began, staring at each of the young players. "We need to decide who will stay and who will go. Not everyone has what it takes to be part of this team, and we're going to start figuring that out now."
Cleiton's stomach knotted. He could barely breathe. The news of a potential cut weighed on him like a hammer, and he felt a tightness in his chest. It was as if a chill ran through his body. He thought of his father, his mother, and the hope that began to show in their eyes. This was his chance to prove that, even without refined technique, he had the heart and courage to fight.
During that afternoon's practice, every tackle, every challenge, every block was done with maximum effort. Sweat streamed down Cleiton's face, mingling with his desire not to disappoint those who believed in him. But even giving it his all, he felt it wasn't enough. He was always one step behind the others, who had more experience and skill.
By the end, Cleiton left the field with his head hung low, dragging his cleats across the ground. Despair consumed him. "What can I do? How can I improve? I'm already doing everything I can…" he muttered to himself, walking along the empty sidewalk of the night. The cold night wind mingled with the heat still lingering on his skin, a clash between what he dreamed and what he lived.
Then, a strange window opened before his eyes. It was as if a digital screen appeared out of nowhere, with glowing letters floating in the air.
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"Football System 78413145457514"
Goal: Transform You into the Greatest Football Player of All Time
Select Your Position:
[Goalkeeper] [Center-Back] [Left Back] [Right Back] [Midfielder] [Winger] [Striker]
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Cleiton blinked several times, unable to believe what he was seeing. The fatigue must be playing tricks on him, or maybe he was dreaming. But the letters remained there, floating like a promise in the night. He hesitated, feeling his heart race, and for a moment, he thought of all the positions that could lead him to become the great player he dreamed of.
But then, the image of his father crossed his mind, the man who had been a center-back in local tournaments and still held onto the dream of a football career. He remembered hearing stories about the toughness of being a center-back, about defense being the backbone of the team, and he knew his father had given up that dream for the family.
Taking a deep breath, Cleiton moved his finger toward the invisible screen and pressed [Center-Back]. He knew this was the right position for him; being a center-back was more than just a choice: it was his chance to make his father proud by achieving what he himself couldn't.
The screen changed again, now displaying another message illuminating the dark of the night:
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Position Selected: Center-Back
Initiation Level: Basic Defensive Skills
Intensive Training Unlocked
First Goal: Consistency in Positioning and Tackling
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Cleiton felt a shiver. Something inside him felt different. As if an unknown energy was pulsing through his veins. He didn't know what to expect, but one thing was certain: if this system could really help him, he was willing to do whatever it took. Because from that moment on, giving up was not an option.
That night, Cleiton Silva, the construction worker's son who dreamed of becoming a great center-back, was destined to face his greatest challenge—and perhaps, finally, achieve the impossible.