The Malmö FF Youth Academy Trials VII

FWEEEEE!

FWEEEEE!

FWEEEEEEEE!

The final whistle pierced the air, sharp and final. Team A had won, 3-1. The boys from both teams began leaving the pitch, their faces telling two different stories. Team A's players jogged off with wide grins, clapping each other on the back, their red bibs glowing under the spring sun.

Team B, in yellow, trudged toward the sidelines with heads down. Some were arguing, pointing fingers at who they thought had cost them the match. One kid kicked at the grass and muttered under his breath, wiping tears from his eyes with his sleeve.

Sebastian sat on the grass, knees up, purple bib still folded in his hands. He wasn't surprised by the result. From the start, both teams had lacked structure. No tactics nor shape, and most of the boys played as individuals, racing after the ball in an effort to score flashy goals to impress the coaches.

But Team A had managed to score first, and that calmed them down, giving them more confidence. They started passing more, finding space, and building on their momentum.

Team B grew frantic and started to break apart. Some kids tried to dribble alone and ignored open teammates, losing the ball to quick counterattacks.

Eventually, Team A scored again before halftime and added another in the second half. Team B's only goal came from a long-range shot from one of their wingers, but it was too late as the match ended a few minutes later.

The referee, a stocky man in Malmö FF sportswear, blew his whistle again and waved toward the sideline.

"Teams C and D, get on the pitch!" he called out.

Coach Andreas stepped forward, clapping to gather Team D. The boys scrambled to their feet, brushing off grass and dirt.

"You all saw what just happened," Andreas started addressing them. "Team A won because they worked together, and Team B fell apart because they played selfishly. If you want a real shot at this, pass the ball, move together, and give everything you've got. Understood?"

The boys nodded. Some said "Yeah" quietly. Sebastian pulled the purple bib over his long-sleeved white shirt and jogged onto the pitch. He took up his position in midfield, with Martin Eriksson on his left and Oli Svensson on his right.

Team C was still settling into shape. Players were calling to each other, adjusting lines. The referee called both strikers, Kalle Nilsson for Team D and Team C's forward, to the center circle for the coin toss. Kalle called heads, and the coin landed on heads. Team D would start with the ball.

As the strikers returned, Sebastian studied Team C's formation. Their defensive line was pushed up too high, leaving a large space behind them. The goalkeeper stayed deep near the goal, far from his defenders. That space could be exploited.

"Kalle!" Sebastian called, jogging to the center.

"What?" Kalle turned, hands on hips.

Sebastian leaned in slightly. "Look at their defenders, but try not to make it obvious."

Kalle glanced, then gave a small nod. "Okay? What about them?"

"They're too far from their keeper, and I don't think they'll notice it anytime soon. So I want you to stay near their defenders and wait for when I get past the midfield with the ball. I'll send you a signal with my hand and a through ball, so just make sure you time your run and finish it. You got that?"

Kalle grinned. "Yeah. Got it."

"Alright, let's do it." Sebastian raised a hand. Kalle slapped it, and Sebastian jogged back to his position.

The referee placed the ball in the center and stepped back.

FWEEEEEE!

The whistle rang out, and the game began.

Kalle tapped the ball to Sebastian, who took a touch and scanned the pitch. Team C's forwards were already sprinting forward to press. Their midfielders pushed up to block passing lanes.

Sebastian rolled the ball back to Viktor Holm, one of the center backs, who passed it across to Diego Vargas. Their left side was already closed down by a charging right-winger.

Diego, under pressure, drilled a pass into Martin Eriksson.

"Martin!" Sebastian shouted. Martin, already under pressure, took one touch and sent it to Sebastian, who had stepped in to support.

Sebastian glanced quickly over his shoulder and saw another midfielder coming in fast. He faked right, cut left, and turned sharply to slip past the challenge.

Now in open space, he surged forward. Theo, the left winger, shouted from the flank, drawing the attention of the defenders. "Hey, I'm open!"

Sebastian's eyes flicked to Kalle. He was hovering near the defensive line. Their eyes met, and Sebastian gave a small gesture with his hand. Kalle burst into a sprint, slipping between the defenders, who were caught by surprise.

Sebastian curled a pass with the inside of his foot, threading it through the gap. The ball rolled ahead, fast and clean.

Kalle reached it in stride. The keeper froze for a moment, unsure whether to come out or stay back. That hesitation gave Kalle the chance. He nudged the ball forward and then struck it with power using his right foot.

The shot flew low and into the bottom left corner of the net.

"Goal!" Kalle yelled, arms wide as he ran toward the stands. A few teammates followed, cheering. Kalle jumped, pumped both fists, and exchanged high fives. He glanced back and saw Sebastian giving him a thumbs-up from midfield.