The Morning After Ajax U17

Amani woke up feeling light. Like something invisible had been lifted from his chest. His muscles still ached from battle, his legs sore from the endless running yesterday, but beneath the exhaustion, there was something else.

Satisfaction.

For the first time since arriving in the Netherlands, he felt like he belonged.

He exhaled slowly, blinking against the dim morning light filtering through the window. The air was still, the room quiet except for his own breathing. He rubbed his face, willing his body to wake up fully—and then it happened.

A familiar, faint-blue flicker entered his vision.

****

 SYSTEM NOTIFICATION

Match Summary – FC Utrecht U17 vs. Ajax U17

✅ Pass Accuracy: 89%

✅ Key Passes: 3

✅ Successful Dribbles: 4

✅ Duels Won: 5

✅ Goal Contribution: 1 Goal, 2 Assist

 Mission Rewards:

*+3% Progress to Visionary Pass

*+2% Tactical Awareness Boost

*+1% Stamina Boost

🎁 Special Milestone Reward:

First Goal in Europe!

→ Bonus: +5% Dipping Shot Mastery

→ New Trait Unlocked: Matchwinner Mentality (Increases focus and decision-making in high-pressure moments)

⚠️ Failure Penalty Avoided

***

Amani blinked.

First Goal in Europe.

The words glowed faintly in his mind. He stared at them for a moment, letting it all sink in... his first, but definitely not his last.

Amani sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, wincing slightly at the soreness that gripped his thighs. It was the kind of pain that came from pushing beyond limits, from leaving everything on the pitch.

The game had taken everything from him but in return? It had given him something back.

Not just the win. Not just the goal. It had given him proof that he could compete at this level and belong. But there was still one last thing left to do.

The final challenge of the week.

Twenty more minutes of jogging and the daily workout. That was it. The last step is to fully claim the Progressive Overload Mission rewards.

He took a deep breath and put on his running shoes. The soreness in his legs protested as he bent down to lace them up, but he welcomed the discomfort.

Pain? The pain was temporary.

But growth wasn't.

Amani threw on a jacket, zipped it up against the cold, and stepped outside. The air hit him the moment he stepped outside — crisp, sharp, alive.

Amani took his first strides, his breath curling in the morning air. His feet tapped against the pavement in a steady rhythm.

Not just running. Thinking.

His mind drifted back to the game.

To La Pausa, slowing Ajax down, making them hesitate. To Visionary Pass, carving through their defense like a scalpel. To the Dipping Shot, the ball hanging in the air before sinking into the top corner and sealing the deal.

Each moment replayed itself in his head, frame by frame. He had not just changed that game. Shifted its rhythm. Brought Ajax to their knees.

And yet — there had been no crowd. No deafening cheers. No thousands of fans shaking the stadium. No eruption of noise.

It was a closed-door friendly. No fans, no reporters. Just players, coaches, and the game itself.

But football didn't need a stadium to make noise. Because somehow, Utrecht already knew. As Amani rounded a corner, he noticed it.

People were watching him. Not in an uncomfortable way. In recognition.

A shopkeeper stacking oranges outside his store glanced up. "Morgen, Hamadi!" he called, nodding once before returning to his work.

Amani nodded back, keeping his pace steady.

Further down the street, a group of kids playing football on the sidewalk paused mid-game. One of them whispered something, nudging his friend.

The tallest of the group grinned.

"That's him!"

Amani pretended not to hear.

But inside, something stirred.

At the café on the corner, an older man with a folded newspaper under his arm looked up from his coffee. He didn't speak — just raised his cup in quiet acknowledgment.

The game had been played in silence.

But the result had screamed the loudest. Somehow, in less than twenty-four hours, word had spread through Utrecht's streets, its cafés, its parks, its training pitches.

FC Utrecht's U17s had beaten Ajax U17.

And the name tied to the final goal?

He then reached the newsstand. It was exactly where it had always been — tucked between a bakery and a small café, its wooden shelves overflowing with newspapers and glossy magazines. The old man who ran it sat behind the counter, wrapped in a thick Utrecht scarf, flipping through a copy of Voetbal International.

Amani slowed his pace as he jogged past, already suspecting what was coming.

The old man didn't miss him.

"Ah! There he is!" His voice was loud, carrying over the quiet street. He slapped his newspaper onto the counter, grinning wide. "The boy who beat Ajax!"

Amani let out a breath, half-laughing. "It was a team effort."

The old man waved a wrinkled hand. "Bah! Team effort, sure. But it was your goal that finished them!" He reached under the counter, pulling out a fresh edition of AD Sportwereld.

Amani's stomach twisted.

There it was. Amani Hamadi.

His name. His face. Not on the front page, not in the headlines—but near the bottom, in small bold print:

"Utrecht's Academy Starlet Stuns Ajax in Closed-Door Friendly"

And below it?

A blurry photo of him mid-shot, his body arched, striking the ball that had sealed the win.

Amani blinked. It wasn't even an official match. No crowd, no cameras allowed. But the game had made its way here anyway.

"News travels fast in Utrecht," the old man said as if reading Amani's mind. He pushed the paper toward him. "Take it. Free of charge — this time."

Amani smirked, shaking his head. "Last time you said that, my friend got scammed."

The old man chuckled, stroking his gray beard. "What can I say? Business is business. But this one... " He tapped the newspaper. "... you earned."

Amani took the paper, tucking it under his arm. He gave the old man a nod before jogging off.

By the time Amani reached the academy residence, he already felt the shift.

Two weeks ago, when he first arrived, he had barely gotten acknowledgments from the other players. Some had been indifferent. Some had been wary. Now?

The moment he stepped through the doors, heads turned.

"Hey, Hamadi!" one of the older academy boys called from the lounge.

"Legend," another muttered as he walked past, giving Amani a playful shove.

Amani just nodded, heading for the stairs. He wasn't one for attention — not yet, anyway.

But he couldn't deny it. They treated him differently now. Not just as another academy kid.

As one of them.

They knew his name.

The weight of that realization settled onto his chest, pressing down heavier than the exhaustion in his legs.

Expectation. If they knew his name after one match, what would they say after a season? What would they say if he kept going? If he kept winning?

Amani wiped the sweat from his forehead, his breaths still even, controlled.

He slowed as he approached the stairway, climbing the stairs two at a time, feeling the heat in his muscles.

He reached the gym.

Paused.

A small smirk tugged at his lips.

Only one way to find out.

***

Amani exhaled as he stood outside the door of the gym ready to scan his ID card, sweat clinging to his skin despite the crisp morning air. His legs ached, his shoulders burned, and his breath came in steady waves—but he wasn't done yet.

The system's notification still hovered in his vision, reminding him of what remained:

****

Progressive Overload Training - Week 2 (Final Stretch)

✔ Run 22 miles (6 miles of high-intensity outdoor) [COMPLETED]

⬜ 60 dumbbell squat-and-press routines (12kg)

⬜ Daily: 40 push-ups

⬜ Daily: 40 single-leg squats (20 each leg)

⬜ Daily: 3 rounds of advanced Yoga

****

Amani wiped the sweat off his brow, inhaled deeply, and headed upstairs.

This had been his life for the past two weeks — run, train, recover, repeat. The system didn't allow shortcuts. Every rep, every set, every mile had to be completed.

The Ajax match had drained him, but he couldn't stop now. The difference between being good and being great was in these moments — the days after a victory when most players relaxed.

Amani wouldn't relax.

The academy housing had a small gym was a small training area, nothing flashy, but enough to get the job done.

Amani grabbed a pair of 12kg dumbbells from the rack and planted his feet, rolling his shoulders as he steadied himself.

Squat-and-Press Routine – 60 reps

He lowered into a squat, muscles screaming in protest, before powering back up, pressing the dumbbells overhead. One.

Again. Two.

Again. Three.

By the time he reached 30, his legs felt like bricks, but he pushed on.

50… 55… 60.

He dropped the dumbbells with a thud, rolling his neck. Done.

Push-ups – 40 reps

He dropped to the mat and started.

10. 20. 30.

His arms trembled, but he forced himself through the last ten. 40.

Single-leg Squats – 40 reps (20 on each leg)

His balance wobbled slightly on the first few reps, but he steadied himself.

Left leg. 10. 15. 20.

Right leg. 10. 15. 20.

He gritted his teeth. Done.

Amani lowered himself onto the mat for the final stretch of yoga, focusing on his breathing. He transitioned into his poses — deep lunges, warrior stance, back stretches — forcing flexibility into his tired muscles.

The world outside faded. Just him, his breathing, the slight burn of his muscles.

By the time he finished the last pose, his body felt loose again. The pain was still there, but it was different. It wasn't exhaustion.

It was growth.

****

SYSTEM NOTIFICATION - WEEKLY MISSION COMPLETE! 🎉

"The Road to Professionalism - Week 2" Completed

✔ 22 miles of running finished

✔ Strength training objectives have been met (Progressive Overload Training)

✔ 90 minutes of La Pausa training completed 

✔ Visionary Pass & Dipping Shot drills executed during the week

✔ Tactical review sessions logged

🔓 REWARDS UNLOCKED:

💠 Special Bonus - "Back-to-Back Weekly Completion"

*+2% Visionary Pass Progress (Total Progress: 18%)

*+1% Tactical Awareness Boost

*+1% Physical Conditioning

*Dipping Shot Skill Refinement (+1%)

🎁 One-Time weekly Reward: C-Grade Recovery Elixir (Boosts recovery time by 20% for the next 48 hours)

Expires in 48 hours. Use wisely.

****

Amani exhaled deeply, wiping his face with a towel.

Two weeks. Two weeks of pushing himself beyond limits he didn't even know he had.

And yet — this was only the beginning.

He stood up, stretched once more, and made his way toward the door.

Tomorrow?

The next cycle will begin again.

***

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