Ghana U17 vs Cameroon U17 II

In the locker room, the atmosphere was light, filled with the sounds of laughter and friendly banter. The players, feeling confident with their lead, joked among themselves as they rehydrated and rested.

Marcel, seated on one of the benches, smiled along with them but couldn't shake the lingering thoughts of Ghana's disallowed goal. That moment had sent a chill down his spine. If the offside call hadn't been made, they would have gone into halftime tied, and the game's momentum could have shifted entirely.

He knew they were controlling the match, but football could be cruel—one chance was all Ghana needed to change everything.

His fingers clenched into a fist. Should he use the system boost? He hesitated for a moment. We're playing well, but… just in case. He didn't want to leave anything to chance.

"Tricera, activate the special boost," he thought.

A translucent message flickered in front of him.

[Defensive Cohesion +5% Activated.]

Marcel blinked and instinctively glanced at Jean, Toukam, and the rest of the backline. Did they feel anything? Did something change? He half-expected some sort of glow, an aura, a visual effect that would show the boost taking effect.

Well, this isn't an anime. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head.

Jean, standing nearby, raised a fist toward him. "You played well so far, and the same for everyone in attack."

Marcel met his fist bump. "Thanks. You guys in defense have been solid too. That's why we're still leading."

Jean let out a small sigh. "That offside goal, though… it caught us completely off guard. The pass was so perfect, we didn't even see their winger making the run."

"Yeah," Marcel agreed. "But it's not just on defense. If we had converted more of our chances, we'd have more security right now."

A voice interrupted them.

"Are you talking about me?" Ganago asked, his tone playful but with a competitive edge as he approached.

Marcel raised an eyebrow, smiling. "Not really. Even I missed some shots."

Ganago crossed his arms. "You better not be blaming me if we don't score more."

"Relax," Marcel laughed, about to respond when the locker room door swung open and Coach Atangana stepped inside.

The conversations ceased instantly.

Coach Atangana surveyed the players, his eyes briefly scanning the room before he spoke.

"Alright, boys. Overall, we played very well in the first half. We didn't allow them any real chances, and we controlled the match. That's good."

Some players straightened, preparing to speak, but the coach raised a hand, cutting them off.

"And no," he continued, "I'm not counting that one chance they had. It was offside, and in a game like this, the way we've played so far, one small mistake doesn't change the fact that we've been the better team."

The tension in the room eased slightly. The players nodded in agreement.

"But," he added, his voice firm, "this game isn't over. I want us to keep the same intensity. If we can add another goal, it will make the second leg in Ghana easier. Don't let them grow into the match. Stay focused."

He clapped his hands together. "Now, let's go out there and finish the job."

The room erupted with a unified response.

"Yes, Coach!"

...

...

"Welcome back, everyone! The break is over, and we are ready for the second half of this crucial qualifier between Cameroon and Ghana," the commentator announced with energy.

"The Baby Lions go into this half with a well-deserved lead after dominating much of the first 45 minutes. Ghana struggled to create chances, their only real moment of danger coming from that disallowed offside goal."

"But football is unpredictable—one goal can change everything. Will Ghana adjust and find a way back into this game, or will Cameroon continue their dominance and put this match beyond reach?"

As the words echoed through the stadium speakers, the players emerged from the tunnel, jogging onto the pitch, ready for the final 45 minutes.

"Here they come! The players are back on the field, and we're moments away from kick-off in this second half. Get ready—this match is far from over!"

…

The second half resumed with renewed intensity. Ghana, clearly fired up, pushed higher up the pitch, pressing more aggressively. But Cameroon, unfazed, continued to hold their ground, making it difficult for their opponents to find space. The ball went back and forth in the midfield, neither team able to gain full control, until the 58th minute when a throw-in for Cameroon on the left side of Ghana half offered a new opportunity.

Kalamou stepped up to take it, glancing at his options before throwing the ball to Hongla, who had drifted into a central-right position just outside the box. With one touch, Hongla settled the ball and quickly spotted Djoubairou making an unexpected forward run. Without hesitation, he played a clever through ball into the left half-space of the penalty area.

Djoubairou reached the pass near the six-yard area but found himself blocked by two Ghanaian defenders. With no clear shooting angle, he made a quick decision—pulling the ball back toward the top of the box where Ngoah was arriving.

Ngoah stepped into the shot with confidence, striking the ball with power. It took a slight deflection off a Ghanaian defender, altering its trajectory just enough for the ball to smash against the inside of the left post. For a brief, agonizing second, the ball rolled perfectly along the goal line before spinning out past the right post.

"OHHHH! That was CLOSE! Ngoah nearly found the back of the net with that shot!" the commentator shouted.

Ngoah threw his hands on his head, frustrated by the near miss. Marcel jogged up behind him, giving him a firm pat on the back. "That was good. We keep playing like this, and the goal will come," he reassured him.

Ngoah nodded and turned back toward the right corner flag, preparing for the next set piece.

In the 59th minute, Ngoah curled in a corner, targeting the near post where Ganago made a run. But a Ghanaian defender read it well, jumping higher and heading the ball away toward the right flank.

Ngoah tracked the ball as it dropped and prepared to control it near the touchline, but just as he was about to settle it, the ball struck an uneven patch of the pitch, causing it to unexpectedly bounce higher and hit his knee instead of his foot. The poor contact sent the ball spinning out of play for a goal kick.

"Ah, unlucky for Ngoah there! The pitch conditions are proving tricky today!"

Coach Atangana shook his head on the sidelines. A missed opportunity, but at least they were still in control.

Ghana began to build confidence after that moment, creating more attacking sequences and finally testing Cameroon's defense. Several shots came in, but Djomo remained composed, catching the ball when needed and organizing his backline. The defenders—Jean, Toukam, Njike, and Kalamou—were throwing themselves into tackles, clearing crosses, and blocking shots with a level of coordination that hadn't been as sharp in the first half.

The Ghanaian coach, seeing his team growing into the game, urged his players to commit more numbers forward. It was a risk, but they needed an equalizer.

Cameroon, however, was waiting for the perfect counterattack.

In the 68th minute, Hongla intercepted a loose pass just outside the box and immediately lifted the ball forward toward Namekong on the right wing. The Ghanaian defenders, slow to recover, scrambled to get back.

Namekong sprinted down the flank, carrying the ball forward before spotting Ganago making a run into the box. He whipped in a cross, but it was poorly executed—the ball bounced awkwardly off Ganago's tibia. The striker, reacting instinctively, still tried to shoot, but his attempt flew harmlessly over the crossbar.

"Cameroon had them there! But the final ball just wasn't good enough!"

The match continued at a high tempo, both teams pushing, but Cameroon remained in control.

Then, in the 79th minute, Ghana won a corner on the left.

The delivery came to the near post, but as had been the case all match, Cameroon's defense was first to the ball. Toukam rose highest, heading it clear toward the edge of the box.

Djoubairou, always alert, was there for the second ball. Without hesitation, he launched a forward pass, hoping to catch Ghana out on the break.

Marcel, positioned near the center circle, received the pass but had to slow down for a moment—the ball took an awkward bounce off another uneven part of the pitch. That split-second delay gave Ghanaian defenders just enough time to track back.

Despite that, Marcel shielded the ball and played a short pass back to Djoubairou, who had continued his run forward. The counterattack wasn't dead yet.

Djoubairou looked up and saw Namekong wide on the right, charging into the final third. He switched play, sending a perfectly weighted ball toward him.

Namekong controlled it in full stride, pushing forward into the right half-space inside the box. He prepared to shoot, but at the last moment, a Ghanaian defender lunged in, getting just enough of the ball to deflect it away.

The ball then ricocheted off another Ghanaian defender's foot, bouncing awkwardly toward the penalty spot.

The Ghanaian goalkeeper, already off his line anticipating Namekong's shot, was left wrong-footed as the ball rolled past him.

And then—

Marcel arrived.

The ball fell perfectly for him, and with the goal wide open, he struck it cleanly into the net.

GOAL!

"MARCEEEEEL NDONGA! 2-0 FOR CAMEROON!" the commentator roared.

Marcel sprinted toward the corner flag, sliding onto his knees before jumping up and punching the air. He turned to face the camera, forming a heart with his hands—a message for his mother, Christina, and his friends who couldn't attend.

His teammates rushed toward him, jumping on him in celebration. Ganago grabbed him around the shoulders, shaking him.

Coach Atangana stood on the sidelines with a smile, nodding his head in approval. With this goal, if they kept their focus, they would head to Ghana with a crucial advantage.

The crowd, though not massive, erupted in cheers. The few hundred supporters in attendance waved flags and pounded drums, knowing that this goal could be the decisive moment in the match.

Cameroon now had control.

And with just ten minutes left, they needed to see it through.

…

The ball was placed at the center circle as Ghana quickly restarted play, eager to mount a comeback. Their midfielders exchanged a few sharp passes before attempting to push forward, but their attack broke down under pressure from Hongla, and the ball rolled out for a throw-in on the left flank.

Kalamou stepped up to take the throw-in, looking for options. He spotted Toukam making himself available and sent the ball toward him. Toukam, always composed, controlled it and immediately shifted the play inward to Etiegnie Oloumou, who had just entered the match, replacing Djoubairou after the second goal.

Oloumou took a touch, glancing up before sending a sharp, low pass toward the right wing, aiming for Namekong.

But Ghana's left-back had read the pass early. Anticipating the play, he intercepted it mid-stride, cutting inside before swiftly passing it forward to his left winger.

"Oh! Ghana intercepts! Can they turn this into something dangerous?"

The Ghanaian winger wasted no time, immediately threading a through ball toward his striker, who had made a run behind Cameroon's backline.

Jean, however, was alert. He stepped up just in time, reading the play and intercepting before the striker could react. Without hesitation, he played it laterally to Toukam, who controlled it calmly and advanced toward midfield.

Toukam pushed forward, reaching the center circle before passing inside to Hongla.

But Ghana had smelled blood. Two Ghanaian midfielders pressed Hongla aggressively, one on each side, forcing him to react quickly. With a quick turn, he managed to escape the trap and sent the ball wide to Kalamou on the left flank.

Kalamou pushed forward but miscalculated his first touch, the ball rolling slightly too far ahead. Seeing the mistake, a Ghanaian midfielder pounced, stealing possession just before Kalamou could recover.

He immediately relayed the ball to a teammate in the center circle, who, without hesitation, passed it forward to another midfielder.

Jean, recognizing the danger, stepped up high to challenge. He lunged toward the Ghanaian midfielder—

But the Ghanaian let the ball roll through his legs.

Jean was caught off guard, his momentum carrying him forward, unable to recover.

The ball, still rolling, reached an uneven patch on the pitch. Toukam, seeing the danger, rushed to correct Jean's mistake, stepping in to intercept—

But just as he reached for it, the ball took an unexpected bounce, popping slightly into the air.

Toukam's foot swung through empty space.

And in that split second, the Ghanaian right winger was there.

"Cameroon is in trouble! The right winger bursts through with pace!"

Njike sprinted back desperately, but the Ghanaian had already broken past the defensive line. Seeing no immediate pressure, he slid the ball across the box—

To the left.

Where his teammate, Ghana's left winger, was completely unmarked.

Djomo, sensing the danger, rushed off his line, trying to close the angle.

But before he could get halfway, the Ghanaian left winger lifted the ball—

A perfectly timed lob.

Djomo's outstretched arms reached for it—

But the ball floated just above his fingertips.

The stadium fell silent for a split second—

Before the net rippled.

GOAL!

"OH, WHAT A FINISH! GHANA PULL ONE BACK!"

The Ghanaian players erupted in celebration, sprinting toward their left winger, who slid on his knees in triumph. His teammates piled on, fists pumping, knowing they were back in the match.

The Ghanaian bench leapt to their feet, clapping and shouting encouragement. Their coach, who had been looking frustrated just minutes ago, was now animated, waving his hands and urging his team forward.

On the other side, Coach Atangana exhaled sharply, shaking his head. He had been relieved when Ghana's earlier goal was ruled offside, but this time, there was no saving grace. He clapped his hands twice, trying to regain his team's focus.

"2-1! Ghana cuts the lead, and now there's a real chance for them to equalize! Nine minutes plus stoppage time to go—this game isn't over yet!"

Jean and Toukam exchanged glances, frustration evident on their faces. They had defended so well, but one unlucky bounce had undone them. Marcel clenched his fists, knowing they needed to stay composed.

The small but vocal Ghanaian supporters in the stands roared, sensing a shift in momentum. The tension in the air was thick—Cameroon had been in control for most of the match, but now, with time still left on the clock, they needed to be careful.

…

The goal seemed to awaken something in the Ghanaian team. With renewed urgency, they pushed forward aggressively, their midfielders imposing themselves physically, winning duels, and forcing Cameroon into deeper positions.

Despite the growing pressure, Jean and Toukam remained resolute at the back, barking orders, intercepting passes, and blocking any attempt to get a clean shot on goal. Ghana was relentless, but Cameroon's defense held firm.

In the 88th minute, Cameroon won a free kick just outside their box on the left after a clumsy Ghanaian challenge. Jean stepped up to take it, scanning the pitch before motioning for a quick set-piece routine.

He rolled a short pass to Oloumou, who immediately returned it, creating a bit of movement to disorganize the Ghanaian press. Jean then sent the ball back to Oloumou, who had now positioned himself in a pocket of space outside of pressure.

Oloumou took a brief touch before playing it further forward to Hongla, who was stationed near the center circle on the left side of the pitch. Hongla controlled it calmly, allowing a Ghanaian midfielder to rush at him, before shifting the ball back to Oloumou, who had continued his run forward, keeping the rhythm of the attack flowing.

Then, with a sudden shift in pace, Oloumou spotted a gap opening on the left flank. Without hesitation, he threaded a perfectly weighted through ball into the channel for Marcel to chase.

"And there it is! Marcel Ndonga is through on the left!"

Marcel's heart raced as he saw the space in front of him. He sprinted into the opening, taking a clean first touch just outside the box. A defender was closing in from his right, but he had just enough time.

His second touch pushed the ball slightly inward, setting up his shot.

Then, for the first time in this match, he curled the ball perfectly.

As soon as it left his boot, he felt it.

It was just like in training.

A small smile formed on his lips even before the ball hit the net—he knew.

The ball arced beautifully toward the top corner, spinning precisely as he had practiced so many times. The Ghanaian goalkeeper reacted late, shifting his weight but realizing, in an instant, that he could do nothing. He barely had time to extend his arm before the ball kissed the inside of the top corner net.

"OH, WHAT A GOAL! MARCEL NDONGA, TAKE A BOW!"

The stadium erupted.

Marcel slid onto his knees in celebration, fists clenched, before leaping up and punching the air. He ran toward the camera, forming a heart with his hands, sending a message to his mother, Christina, and his friends who were at school, unable to watch live.

His teammates rushed in, jumping on him, shaking him, their excitement undeniable.

Coach Atangana, usually composed on the sidelines, grinned as he clapped proudly. This goal was a dagger—Cameroon was now in control.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are witnessing something special! Marcel Ndonga, just 14 years old, and he's playing with the confidence of a star! Maybe his first goal had a bit of luck, but THIS one? Pure talent! Look at the way he curls it into the top corner, leaving the goalkeeper helpless!"

"We've already seen him terrorizing Ghana's right-back all game with his dribbling, but this? This is a statement! He's got the skill, the composure, and now he's showing his finishing ability!"

"It's too early to compare him to Samuel Eto'o, but one thing is certain—this boy is a serious talent!"

...

...

Among the sea of Cameroonian fans cheering in the stands, one figure stood out—a stark contrast to the rest. Seated near the middle of the crowd was an elderly white man, his weathered face partially hidden beneath the brim of a black cap. His silver-white hair, though mostly intact, showed a thinning patch at the crown, a testament to his age. Dressed in a sleek black tracksuit, he exuded an air of quiet authority, his sharp eyes never leaving the pitch.

In his hands, a small, worn notebook rested on his lap, a pen gliding across the pages with methodical precision. Every few moments, he would pause, watching intently before scribbling something down.

"Good positioning—well ahead of his age group… sharp shooting technique… natural flair… exceptional dribbling ability…" the old man murmured under his breath, his voice barely audible over the roar of the stadium.

His gaze locked onto Marcel, who had just left his mark on the match with that stunning strike. The man exhaled slowly, nodding slightly to himself.

"Hmm… perhaps I've found an unpolished gem. I just hope no one else has noticed him the way I have."

Sliding the notebook into the pocket of his tracksuit, he shifted his attention toward the stadium clock—90 minutes played. Without hesitation, he pulled out his phone, tapping a number as he rose from his seat. As the match neared its conclusion, he casually made his way toward the exit, phone pressed to his ear.

If anyone had been watching him closely, they might have noticed the slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

...

...

The referee blew the final whistle—Cameroon had won! The scoreboard displayed 3-1, a well-deserved victory for the Baby Lions. The Ghanaian players, clearly frustrated, headed straight to the locker room without much acknowledgment of the result, eager to regroup before the second leg.

On the other hand, the Cameroonian players remained on the pitch, arms raised, smiles wide, basking in their victory. Some hugged, others clapped toward the modest crowd that had come to support them, and a few simply collapsed onto the grass, drained from the effort.

"It's over! Cameroon takes the first leg with a 3-1 victory! A well-earned win, but this tie is not over yet. Ghana will be a different beast in Accra!" The commentator's voice boomed through the stadium broadcast.

Marcel, exhausted but elated, sat on the pitch, sweat trickling down his face as he tried to catch his breath. His legs felt heavy, his jersey stuck to his skin, but none of that mattered—he had just played his first match for Cameroon, scored two goals, and been named Man of the Match.

He glanced up at the stadium lights, taking in the moment, before feeling a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Get up, boy," Coach Emile said, pulling him to his feet with a proud smile. "That's exactly what I want from you. With your technique, flair, and eye for goal, if you keep this up and the whole team plays like today, we can achieve great things."

Marcel, still panting, nodded. "Thank you, Coach. I'll keep working hard."

Coach Atangana moved around the pitch, shaking hands, patting players on the back, and congratulating them. He made sure to personally acknowledge Jean, whose defensive performance had been a rock at the back. Ganago, Namekong, Hongla, Djoubairou—all received praise.

When Marcel finally stepped into the locker room, the mood was electric. Players were dancing, tapping the lockers, and chanting in celebration. Marcel saw Jean standing in nothing but his shorts, grinning from ear to ear—he had every reason to be happy. Like Marcel, this was his first match for Cameroon, and he had been outstanding in defense, even scoring a crucial goal.

Marcel walked over, joining the circle of players, and soon they were all caught in a tight group hug, laughing and shouting.

Then, the doors swung open.

Coach Atangana entered, his expression serious but not angry. The moment the players saw him, the noise died down.

"Congratulations, everyone. That was a well-played match. Despite conceding that goal, I am incredibly proud of each and every one of you. From defense to midfield to attack—you executed the game plan well."

The players broke into applause, heads held high with pride.

Coach Atangana allowed them a brief moment to soak in the praise before his voice lowered slightly, bringing them back to reality.

"However…" He let the word hang in the air for a moment. "We have only done half the job."

The locker room fell silent. The celebration, while not erased, shifted into something more reflective.

"Yes, we won, and yes, we have a two-goal advantage. But if you think this match was tough, just wait for the second leg in Accra. If we go there thinking we have already qualified, we will lose—and we will lose badly."

Some players exchanged glances, nodding in understanding.

"So erase that thought from your minds now. We won this match, but we are NOT through yet. Ghana will fight like lions in their home stadium. If we are not ready, they will punish us. Do I make myself clear?"

The players nodded.

"Can I count on you to finish the job in Accra?"

"YES, COACH!" The team responded in unison.

Coach Atangana's eyes scanned the room, making sure his words had fully sunk in. "I didn't hear you properly… CAN I COUNT ON YOU?!"

"YES, COACH!!!" This time, the response was deafening.

The coach finally allowed a small smile to return to his face.

"Good. Now listen. We will stay together for two days to recover, then you will return to your academies and clubs. On September 19th, we regroup and prepare for the second leg. Enjoy tonight, but once we leave this stadium, the focus must shift back to work."

With that, he clapped his hands once. "Finish changing and see you all in the bus."

Marcel wiped the last drops of sweat from his forehead and began changing. The first battle had been won. But the war was far from over.