The Captain’s Armband

Later that night, the Utrecht U17 squad gathered in a hotel conference room for a team meeting. It was 9 PM, and outside the windows the Amsterdam night was cold and black, with streetlights casting pale halos through the drizzle. Inside, the boys were still in their team polo shirts and track pants, some sipping water or sports drinks provided on a side table. A low murmur of chatter hung in the air as they waited for Coach Pronk to begin.

Amani sat between Malik and Tijmen in the second row of chairs. He rubbed his hands on his thighs, trying to dispel a slight nervous energy that had taken hold since dinner. His belly was full from the hearty meal, but his mind was racing ahead to tomorrow. He glanced around at his teammates: some looked tired, eyes drooping from the long day, while others were still buzzing, jostling each other playfully to stay awake.