Chapter 19

It was already past midday, and the sun hung high and merciless in the sky, pouring down sweltering heat to the earth like hot iron fresh from the raging fire of a forge.

As soon as the participants were fully rested, the small-sided matches — which would be the highlight and final deciders of the day — began for the Under-14 group Jesse was in.

They were a 6 versus 6 format, with five outfield players and one goalkeeper present on both sides. As a result of the small number, they only used a quarter portion of the pitch for the match.

The Under-12, Under-16, and Under-18 participants were using the remaining quarters of the pitch for small-sided matches, too.

The reduced playing area meant there would be less time on the ball and quick transitions, forcing players to think and act swiftly.

It was the perfect means to force the participants to go at one another, and for the PFA officials to evaluate their technical skill, decision-making, tactical and positional awareness, physical endurance, teamwork, as well as their capability to react under intense pressure from the opposition in a match-like setting.

Each small-sided game would have twenty minutes of play without halves or substitutions; with parents, friends and family in the stands supporting the participants they came to cheer on, and coaches on the sidelines eagerly watching every move to decide who would meet the quota and get the largely sought-after chance at a spot in the Pepsi Football Academy.

The participants were divided into teams according to the colours of their bibs, and Jesse who wore a blue bib was paired with five other boys who were as well wearing blue bibs:

A stocky central defender named Idowu with vertical tribal marks etched on his cheeks that looked like deep scars from an angry bear's attack; Lawal, a wiry, dark skinned goalkeeper with a round face set in a perpetual scowl; Chibueze, an Igbo defensive midfielder with a lanky figure who was hit hard by puberty and was already growing a stark beard; Rotimi, an attacking midfielder with confidence in his posture and stride, and skin a lighter shade of cocoa, smooth save for the birthmark above his brow; and finally, Ibrahim, a tall, dark and lean center forward who only spoke in Pidgin.

They quickly introduced themselves and Rotimi who took the role of captain decided on a simple strategy they would adopt: play to their strengths and communicate constantly on the pitch in order to make tactical adjustments when needed.

He decided they would use a compact outfield formation of two defenders, one midfielder, and two attackers while in possession of the ball. Meanwhile, they would switch to three defenders, one midfielder, and one attacker in order to retain chances for a counter while they were on the defensive.

The plan of action was for Idowu and Chibueze to be the formations two defenders, Rotimi would play in midfield, and Jesse would be given a free role behind Ibrahim, allowed to either support him from behind or the wings.

That was their plan in possession of the ball.

On the defensive, Rotimi would be the one to drop back, slotting between the two center backs, while Jesse took his place temporarily in midfield.

It seemed a logical enough plan and course of action, so the team swiftly agreed on it.

If their tactics proved insufficient during the game, they could make corrections in their approach and rework things according to the problems and challenges that arose. So, there was no need to be too nitpicky and overly meticulous about the details just yet.

Finished with the discussion, they headed to the sidelines where they sat, eagerly awaiting their turn to play.

The first set of teams stepped up to the field, the teammates on both sides looking motley even despite the distinguishing red and blue bibs.

They all looked so diverse, and Jesse was curious to see how they would fare, and who would win the game.

With a blow of the referee's whistle, the game started.

As expected, it was fast-paced and frenetic, with both teams fighting tooth and nail for every inch of space.

The red team had a slight edge in possession and had more attacking opportunities, but the blue team was resilient and their compact formation made it difficult for their opponents to break through.

The first real chance of the game came in the last five minutes of the game, when the red team's striker suddenly found himself one-on-one with the blue team's goalkeeper from a pass the defenders had failed to intercept.

The goalkeeper could not do much but watch as the striker's shot was placed far away from his reach, into the top corner of the goalpost.

It was the first attempt on goal, and the first goal of the game despite the strong defensive performance the blue team had put up up until that moment.

The game eventually ended 1-0 with the red team holding their lead and getting the win.

It was almost painful to watch all the blue team's efforts go down the drain.

...Well, that was football.

If there was a winner, there had to be a loser as well.

There was simply no two ways about it.

Jesse just hoped that his blue team wouldn't suffer the same fate as that blue team. Now, that would be the real pain.

The rest of the games continued in similar fashion: high-paced and intense, with harried passing and quick pressing.

The games were like a tempest, and some of the scorelines reflected that with several goals flying in from both sides.

It was a major goalfest!

There was a 5-1 beatdown in the fourth match, a 4-3 scoreline in the fifth match, and a 2-2 draw in the sixth match, and a 3-0 scoreline in the seventh.

They may not have been the best matches Jesse had seen in terms of quality, but goals were always enjoyable to watch.

Eventually, it reached the turn of Jesse's team and they stepped into the field, ready to play their hearts out, and hoping to secure a coveted spot in the Pepsi Football Academy.