The Rising Stars

Even though tryouts had only just begun, a few players were already capturing the attention. Three candidates stood out from the crowd, each for a unique reason.

First was David Chen, a player who carried himself with unshakable confidence. His reputation preceded him, with whispers spreading about his time as the top scorer in a junior championship. David moved with natural confidence, juggling the ball as if it were an extension of his body. Step-overs, rainbow flicks, and roulettes—each technique flowed into the next like a scripted sequence. Some players watched in awe. Others, not so much.

"Show-off," someone muttered under their breath.

David smirked, clearly thriving on the attention.During the warm-up drills, he wove past the cones as if they didn't even exist. But his arrogance was impossible to miss. He barely paid attention when Coach Thompson spoke, rolling his eyes at instructions. And when things didn't go his way? He let everyone know.

"Pass the ball earlier next time," he snapped at a teammate during a drill.

Despite his attitude, there was no denying his talent. His ability to score was unmatched, and his flashy style made him a crowd favorite. Coach Thompson watched him carefully, though his expression gave nothing away.

Then there was Kai Patel—a stark contrast to David in both personality and playing style. Small and quiet, Kai almost disappeared in the chaos of tryouts—until he had the ball. What he lacked in bulk, he compensated for with absolute mechanical genius. During the dribbling drills, he moved through the cones with precise accuracy, his motions fluid and deliberate.

"Wow," Marco murmured to Alex as they watched.

But for all his skill, Kai had his struggles. In physical drills, he was constantly shoved off the ball by bigger players. Each time, he picked himself up and went right back at it, never complaining, never making a scene. He barely spoke, keeping his head down and letting his game do the talking. But when it came to passing, Kai's talent was undeniable. He had an instinct for the game, delivering perfectly timed through-balls that left even Marco impressed.

"Kid's got an eye for the game," Alex muttered.

Finally, there was Miguel Ramirez—the towering goalkeeper who looked like he was built for the position. His height gave him a huge advantage, and during the shooting drills, he put on a show. His reflexes were razor-sharp as he dived and saved. His presence in goal was dominant, and whenever he stopped a shot, he cheered and shouted encouragement to his players.

But there was one flaw—he hesitated when diving to his left. It wasn't obvious at first, but Coach Thompson caught it.

"Don't be afraid to push yourself," the coach said after one particular save attempt.

Miguel nodded, a slight flush creeping onto his face, but he didn't let it shake him. He kept up his energy, cheering for others and bringing a sense of stability to the field. His skills were impressive, but his attitude was just as valuable.

As the morning session wore on, it became clear that these three were more than just hopefuls—they were serious contenders. Each brought something different to the table, and Marco found himself studying them closely.

"Think we're out of our league?" Alex joked, nudging him.

Marco shook his head, eyes filled with determination. "No. We just have to play our game."

The competition was tough, but Marco knew one thing for sure—everyone on that field had something to prove, including him.