Just Give Up

"Stephen Nondi, George Vyner, Tobias Knost, and Samuel Baraka."

Mr. Christophe, the head scout of Lyons FC Youth Academy, snapped his notebook shut with an air of finality. The names had been spoken, etched into the future of those four lucky players. A hushed tension settled over the field as the weight of his words sank in. These were the chosen ones, the talents deemed worthy of the prestigious French sports scholarship — the golden ticket to European football. For them, doors had swung open to a world of endless possibilities. For the rest, however, those same doors had just been slammed shut.

"That'll be all. Good luck to the rest of you," he concluded.

A heavy silence fell over the group of young hopefuls. Then, a murmur of disbelief spread through the crowd. "Eeeeehh!" Some of the players and even a few coaches couldn't help but exclaim. Many cast glances at Amani, who stood at the back, his arms crossed over his chest, his face unreadable. He had been the standout performer of the game, a three-goal contribution of two goals and an assist — yet his name was absent from the list.

Despite the initial murmurs, the moment quickly passed. The players refocused their attention on Coach Juma as he stepped forward, his presence commanding their respect.

"Let's congratulate the four players who will be heading Abroad," he said with a wide smile. "They deserve recognition for their outstanding performance in today's game."

The response was lukewarm. Some clapped out of obligation, others out of genuine happiness for their teammates, but a good number still harbored resentment and disappointment. However, they knew better than to dwell on the setback. The AFTA Mombasa trials were still ongoing, and scouts from top African clubs were yet to make their selections.

Coach Juma, as always, sensed the undercurrents of disappointment. He folded his arms and let his gaze travel over the players before speaking again.

"I always tell my students that failure is a part of success. Many young players are so afraid of rejection had failure that they don't even show up for trials like these. But you? You're here. And that means you're already ahead of many others." He paused, letting his words sink in. "Some of the greatest footballers in history tasted failure before they succeeded. Some even have never won anything but they still never gave up. If you didn't make it today, it doesn't mean your journey ends here."

The coach's words resonated with many. The initial dejection in some players' eyes was slowly replaced by renewed determination. Football was more than just a game to them — it was their escape from a life of struggle, their ticket to a better future. They couldn't afford to give up. Not Right now.

"So tell me, will you let this setback define you?" Coach Juma challenged. "Or will you step up and prove that you belong among the best?"

A few players nodded, their expressions hardened with resolve. Others responded with an enthusiastic, "We'll keep pushing, Coach!"

"Good." He smiled. "You're dismissed for today. Rest up, and come back stronger tomorrow. And remember — Never Give up."

As the players dispersed, Amani remained rooted to his spot. His mind was in turmoil. He had given his all during the match. He had outplayed everyone. So why had he been overlooked?

'Was it because of my sudden outburst during the first half?'

Doubt gnawed at him. He could feel the weight of the other players' stares — some filled with pity, others with smug satisfaction. He clenched his fists. He had worked too hard for this opportunity, only to be cast aside.

"Young man."

The words, spoken in a thick French accent, cut through his thoughts. Amani turned to see Mr. Christophe standing beside him, smiling.

"You're Amani, correct?"

Amani nodded, wary of what the scout wanted.

"I'll be honest with you, young man," Christophe continued. "You were exceptional today but with your injured foot, you will never make it as a professional. You should consider a different path before you cause yourself permanent harm. Just give up while you have time."

Amani stiffened. 'Injured foot? What is he talking about?'

His mind raced. So that was the reason he hadn't been selected? Not his attitude, not his talent — but an injury he didn't even have?

"I've said all that needs to be said. Take care." With that, the scout walked away, blending into the departing crowd.

Amani scoffed. 'Did he come over just now to tell me that? What a waste of time.'

"Amani!" Malik called, jogging up to him with a wide grin. "What was that guy all about? Did they finally pick you?"

Amani shook his head, a rueful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "No, man. He just told me to give up — said I'm injured."

Malik frowned in disbelief. "Injured? Are you serious? You're one of the best out there today."

"Not at all," Amani replied firmly. "I'm as fit as ever. You saw me play, didn't you?"

"Then ignore that idiot," Malik said, clapping a reassuring hand on Amani's shoulder. "We've still got tomorrow. Scouts from Al Masry and Mamelodi Sundowns are coming. We just need to prove ourselves again."

Amani arched an eyebrow. "And whose source did you get that from? Did you bribe someone?" he teased.

Malik laughed. "Don't worry about it. Just trust me, alright?"

Amani exhaled, feeling some of the tension ease. Deep down, he knew Malik was right — the trials weren't over yet. "Are you sure you're okay?" Malik asked, peering closely at him.

"I will be," Amani replied with a small, confident smile. 

"Good. Now, let's find you a decent hotel for the night. We need you well-rested for tomorrow." Malik said, his tone both encouraging and pragmatic.

"Thanks, man," Amani replied, feeling a spark of hope reignite.

As they turned to leave, Coach Juma appeared, sprinting toward them, slightly out of breath but with a determined look on his face. The day was far from over, and every moment now could change their destiny.

"Amani, just in time! I thought you left. I need you to meet someone. Malik, go see Coach Mande — he'll explain a few things to you."

"Oh? This sounds interesting." Malik grinned. "See you later, bro."

Amani followed Coach Juma through the dimly lit stadium corridors until they reached the coach's office. Inside, two figures sat on a wooden bench — a distinguished older man and a striking young woman with a camera slung around her neck.

The moment Amani laid eyes on her, the world around him seemed to dissolve into a blur of colors and sounds. In that instant, every thought scattered, and he was left breathless. She stood before him like a living masterpiece—her sapphire eyes sparkled with mischievous curiosity, drawing him in as if they held a secret invitation.

Her blonde hair cascaded gracefully around her delicate features, each strand catching the light and lending her an almost ethereal glow. In that fleeting moment, Amani's carefully structured world shattered, replaced by the overwhelming allure of her presence.

"Amani, nice to meet you." She extended a manicured hand, her smile warm.

For the first time in a long while, Amani felt his usual confidence waver. He hesitated before shaking her hand, barely meeting her gaze.

The old man cleared his throat, breaking the awkward silence. "I'm Carlos Stein. This is my granddaughter, Kristen. She's training to become a professional scout."

"Nice to meet you both," Amani managed, regaining some composure.

Coach Juma smiled. "Mr. Carlos Stein is a scout from FC Utrecht in the Netherlands. They're interested in recruiting you. Are you interested?"

Amani's heart skipped a beat. FC Utrecht? The Netherlands? A European club? A high-performance football academy?

"Yes," he answered immediately. "I'm very interested."

"Hahaha, that's great. I like your straightforwardness. And, it's good you speak perfect English, you'll find it easy to adapt to life in the Netherlands." Mr. Stein laughed, taking off his sunhat. His deep wrinkles seemed to carve a map of his eventful life on his still agile facial features. His bright blue eyes, framed by thick white eyebrows, glittered in the dim light along with his perfect set of dazzling white teeth.

Mr. Stein chuckled. "Good. I like a young man who knows what he wants. We'd like to conclude the transfer soon. Can you contact your parents? We'll need their consent."

Amani's breath hitched. "My mother is in Malindi. I don't have a phone, but I know her number."

Coach Juma nodded. "Then let's get her on the line right away."

Amani swallowed. This was it. His future was on the line. And he would do everything in his power to seize this opportunity.

Amani sat on the edge of the wooden chair as Coach Juma dialed the number. The ringing tone felt like an eternity. Would his mother approve? Would she allow him to go to Europe? Every second that passed felt like another hurdle in his journey.

Just then Coach Juma cut Amani's wild thoughts short.

"Don't worry about it, I'll convince your mother" Coach Juma said confidently. " And I'll also help you complete the paperwork before the end of tomorrow." He patted Amani's shoulder as the phone continued to ring.