Xavier's face paled immediately, his thoughts racing with dread. He could already imagine the disappointment and scolding from his team.
How was he supposed to face them now? His jaw tightened, as the team began walking toward him.
Bracing himself, he was shocked when one of them clapped him on the shoulder and said, "Nice one. Nice one, bro. You did well. Just watch your angles next time."
Xavier blinked, stunned by the unexpected encouragement. Wait, they weren't mad? Or were they? But he had called him 'bro,' meaning all was good… right?
He nodded, his throat dry, unsure how to respond. Back in Lukechester, he would've been met with insults, sharp glares, and a barrage of blame. Yet here, things were different.
The curly-haired teammate gave him a firm pat on the back. "Nice try, man," he said with a grin. "You did great. But we've got this—we can do even better." His tone carried a sense of determination, as if he'd made a silent vow to turn the game around.
Another player tossed Xavier a water bottle, which he caught effortlessly before taking a long sip. The cold water steadied him, cooling both his nerves and his thoughts.
Then, another player threw a small, sachet-like energy drink toward him. Xavier caught it with a silent nod. The player returned the nod with the same quiet acknowledgment. It was an unspoken exchange of mutual respect, something Xavier had never experienced before in his previous team.
As halftime began to end, they made their way to the game room to regroup and strategize.
On the way, Xavier heard something that made him stop in his tracks.
"Xavier! Xavier! Xavier!"
The sound of fans chanting his name grew louder, their voices ringing through the stadium. He turned toward the source of the noise and saw the crowd cheering wildly for him, shouting with a mix of excitement and awe.
His breath caught as motivation surged through him, a powerful realization sweeping over him.
'If they're cheering for me now, even when I didn't score, what would it feel like if I actually did?'
The thought set his heart pounding. Energy coursed through him as he waved at the crowd, their screams reaching a fever pitch—especially from the women's section.
Xavier smiled to himself as he turned toward the door, a new determination blazing in his chest. This was his chance to prove himself—not just to his teammates but to everyone watching.
The team entered the game room and took their seats, their expressions a mix of determination and tension.
One of the team members suddenly stood up and roared, "Rochester, we win!"
Another player joined in, repeating the chant, "Rochester, we win!"
Before long, the entire team was shouting in unison, "Rochester, we win!" Their voices echoed, building camaraderie in the small room.
Then, with two sharp claps, one of the players brought the chant to a halt.
This teammate carried an aura of authority, different from what Xavier had expected. Though he didn't know him well, Xavier could sense there was something special about this player's composure and leadership.
Moments later, the coach entered the room, clapping twice to command attention. He stood before the team, his gaze firm yet encouraging, and began to speak.
"This isn't the end of the game," the coach said, his voice steady. "Manage yourselves, stay composed, and above all, remember this: teamwork is the best work. No matter how tough it gets, don't take your frustrations out on your teammates.
That won't help anyone—it'll only hurt us. That's the difference between us and the other team. They think they can do it alone. But with teamwork, we can pass, strategize, and score."
He paused, letting the words sink in, then continued.
"Nobody's perfect. Mistakes happen, but our goal is to become the best. And to become the best, we must work together through every trial."
Xavier listened intently, absorbing every word. The coach's advice contrasted sharply with what he'd experienced in Lukechester, where teamwork was nearly nonexistent, and players focused solely on their individual performances. Here, the team dynamic felt completely different.
As the coach finished speaking, he turned to Xavier, pointing at him.
Xavier's eyes widened, nerves creeping in as he braced for the feedback.
"You did well," the coach said, his tone both firm and encouraging. "But next time, make sure to use the upper side of your foot when shooting. Keep that in mind."
Xavier nodded quickly, grateful for the advice.
The coach clapped his hands twice. "You've got this, guys. Let's show them what teamwork can do."
The players stood up, their spirits revitalized. Xavier grabbed another small sachet of an energy drink, downing it in one go. The cool liquid coursed through him, bringing a rush of renewed energy.
As he placed the empty sachet aside, a new determination filled him. They had two hours left to prove their worth on the field.
The coach left the room, and the players exchanged glances. No words were needed; they were ready.
With purpose in their steps, the team walked back toward the field, prepared to show the other team exactly what they were made of.
As they walked toward the stadium, Xavier's curiosity got the better of him. He hadn't seen who had scored earlier, and the question nagged at him.
Turning to the bouncy-haired teammate beside him, he hesitated for a moment before asking, "Do you know who scored earlier?"
The bouncy-haired guy glanced at him, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "It was the new substitute," he replied. "The guy who had just come in after the yellow card you had. Scored barely a minute after stepping onto the pitch."
Xavier's eyebrows lifted slightly. "Seriously?"
"Yeah," his teammate nodded. "Dude's got quick reflexes. Right place, right time."
Xavier exhaled, nodding to himself. That was impressive—coming in fresh and scoring almost immediately? He made a mental note to watch the substitute play more closely.
As they neared the field, the roars of the crowd grew louder. The stadium lights shone brightly, illuminating the grass and making everything feel even more electrifying.
The atmosphere was alive with tension, excitement, and the lingering anticipation of what was to come.
Xavier took a deep breath.
This was it.
The second half was about to begin.
This time, he wasn't just playing to avoid mistakes.
He was playing to win.