The Victory Against Briarwood

Jace Holloway had felt pressure before.

He had stood at the starting blocks of national track meets, the weight of expectation pressing down on his shoulders. But this? This was different and unique because you ain't the only one expected to win.

Briarwood Academy wasn't just another opponent. They were the best in the league. Undefeated last season. Ruthless. Efficient. A team built for dominance.

And Jace? He was still learning and now picking things up

Still proving that he belonged.

As the team bus rolled toward Briarwood's home ground, the air inside was tense.

No one spoke much. A few teammates had their headphones in, lost in their worlds. Others stared out the window, focused and serious because the pressure given by the atmosphere was very high.

Jace sat near Marcus, tapping his fingers against his knee.

"You ready for this?" Marcus asked.

Jace exhaled. "I don't know. Guess I'll find out soon."

Marcus smirked. "Just do what you always do. Run like hell and cause problems."

Jace chuckled, but inside, his nerves still churned.

This wasn't just a game.

This was a test by the coach to see whether he really belonged.

The moment they stepped off the bus, Jace could tell this was different.

Briarwood's pitch was pristine—like something out of a professional academy. The stands were packed with students, chanting and waving flags.

They took football seriously here.

Jace's gaze landed on Briarwood's players as they warmed up. They moved with precision, their passes crisp, their communication sharp.

There was no wasted movement. No casual joking around; it was all about seriousness over there.

They weren't just playing. They were here to win.

Coach Davies called the team into a huddle.

"Listen up. Briarwood is top for a reason. But they're not unbeatable. They're used to teams being scared of them. Let's not give them that. Let's play our football and make them work for everything."

Jace nodded, clenching his fists.

Time to show what he could do and prove to the world he wasn't just an athlete.

The whistle blew.

Immediately, Briarwood set the tone.

They pressed high, forcing Harrowgate into mistakes. Their midfielders snapped into tackles, their defenders bullied anyone who dared enter their half.

Jace barely touched the ball in the opening ten minutes.

Every time he tried to make a run, a Briarwood player was already there—blocking his path, cutting off his space, making him feel small and useless for his team at that moment.

It wasn't just physical.

It was mental.

They wanted him to doubt himself.

And for the first time, Jace felt the creeping thought: Maybe I'm not ready for this.

The turning point came in the 17th minute.

Marcus, under pressure, managed to flick a pass toward Jace near the sideline.

Immediately, a Briarwood defender closed in. Big. Fast. Strong and also tall as well.

Jace had a split second to react.

He could try to hold up play.

Or—

He could trust his speed.

Jace tapped the ball past the defender and exploded forward like a cheetah.

The crowd gasped.

The defender turned, sprinting after him. But Jace was already gone.

He flew down the wing, the ball at his feet, the wind rushing past him.

For the first time, he felt free and had the opportunity to sprint in a straight line making him go faster.

He cut inside, spotting Theo making a late run into the box. Jace curled in a cross—low, dangerous.

Theo stretched—got a foot to it—

GOAL.

Harrowgate led 1-0.

Jace barely had time to celebrate before Theo tackled him in excitement.

"You're a bloody cheat code!" Theo laughed.

Jace grinned. The nerves were gone now.

He belonged.

The lead didn't last long.

Briarwood, unfazed, went back to work.

They kept possession, moving the ball like a machine, waiting for gaps to appear.

And in the 34th minute, they found one.

A through ball split Harrowgate's defence wide open. Their striker—a beast of a forward—smashed a shot past the keeper.

1-1.

Jace wiped the sweat from his forehead and he was down at the moment cause the defenders couldn't do their jobs well back there.

This wasn't going to be easy.

Coach Davies gathered them in the dressing room.

"You're doing well, but we need to be sharper. Jace, you're stretching them. Keep doing that, but don't just rely on speed. Change it up—keep them guessing."

Jace nodded. He understood. Speed was his weapon—but it couldn't be his only one.

Briarwood came out even stronger.

They nearly scored in the 50th minute, their winger rattling a shot off the crossbar.

Jace, tracking back, helped defend more than ever before. He wasn't just attacking now—he was fighting for every inch.

Then, in the 67th minute, a chance.

Jace received the ball near midfield, his back to goal. A Briarwood player pressed him instantly.

Instead of trying to sprint past, Jace did something different.

He turned sharply, rolling the ball past his marker and driving forward.

The defender stumbled.

Jace was through.

He sprinted toward goal, but a second defender cut across. Jace feinted left—then right—then blasted a shot.

The keeper saved it.

The rebound fell to Marcus, who fired—

Goal!

2-1.

Harrowgate was back in the lead.

Jace punched the air.

They could win this because they were leading the game.

Briarwood threw everything forward.

Their pressure was relentless.

In the 88th minute, disaster struck.

A looping cross into the box.

Jace watched, helpless, as Briarwood's striker outjumped their defender and smashed in a header.

2-2.

Jace's heart sank.

They had worked so hard.

And now, in the dying minutes, it felt like victory was slipping away.

But then—one last chance.

The 94th minute.

Jace, exhausted, saw Marcus win the ball one last time.

"Go!" Marcus yelled.

Jace ran.

Everything hurt. His legs burned. His lungs screamed; he was very tired because he was a winger who played full-time so he was very tired.

But he ran.

Marcus played the ball forward. Jace reached it just inside the box.

A Briarwood defender lunged—too late.

Jace took one touch—then shot.

For a heartbeat, the world froze.

The ball curled past the keeper.

Into the net.

GOAL.

Silence—then an explosion of noise.

Harrowgate had won.

Jace collapsed to his knees as his teammates swarmed him.

They had done it.

They had beaten the best.

And Jace Holloway?

He wasn't just a sprinter anymore.

He was a footballer.

After this, the coach for Briarwood's team called Jaace and told him to keep it up cause he had a really good talent and gave him the name "Speed Demon".This shocked him a lot because he used to call himself that name some time ago.