End of The Malmö FF Youth Academy Trials

No sooner had Sebastian's free kick hit the back of the net than Team A retrieved the ball and rushed it to the center circle to restart play.

The score was now 3-2, and there were less than seven minutes left in the match.

But even with time against them, Team A had not given up hope. They kept attacking with urgency, knowing that an equalizer would not only level the score but also boost their chances of being selected by the Malmö officials.

This was the last match and event in the trials, and no other evaluation was going to be carried out. If they could not get selected now, then they could kiss their Malmö youth academy dreams goodbye.

And then, there was Felix.

Even though Sebastian had bested him yesterday in every physical test and evaluation, Felix still could not bring himself to believe that Sebastian was better than him. Even now, with Sebastian coming off the bench to score twice and flip the game on its head, he refused to accept it.

But it was getting harder to deny.

Sebastian was everywhere he went. He was like a shadow that never gave him space to breathe. When Felix drifted to the left, Sebastian was there. When he dropped into midfield, Sebastian followed. Even a brief switch to the opposite flank did not shake him.

Every time he touched the ball, Sebastian was already closing in, anticipating his every move. Reading him like a book.

With their main attacking threat suffocated, most of Team A's forward play fizzled out before they could truly threaten the box. They kept possession, passed it around, and probed for weaknesses, but there was little they could do when their spearhead was being neutralized at the source.

Sebastian, for his part, had shifted into a more defensive role now. He was not pushing forward recklessly. The two goals had given Team D the advantage. His focus now was on protecting their lead and ensuring the match ended with the current score.

But one player on Team D was not easing up.

Theo.

The left winger was relentless. He pressed high, harassed the opposition defenders, and threw himself into every loose ball. He was desperate to increase the goal tally and get his name on the score sheet.

He fired a left-footed shot just over the bar. Minutes later, he latched onto a loose ball and forced a low save from the keeper. Then he picked up a short pass near the edge of the box and rifled another shot, this one blocked by a defender's knee.

His hunger was obvious. He was the only attacker on Team D without a goal contribution throughout the two matches they played, and he was very sure that if the game ended this way, there was no way in hell he was getting selected.

At least scoring a goal now would increase his abysmal chances a bit.

FWEEEEE!

FWEEEEE!

FWEEEEEEEE!

The referee blew the final whistle, and the game was over.

The final score was 2–3, and Team D were the winners.

Some of the boys dropped to the grass immediately, panting hard, their chests heaving. The match had taken everything out of them. Sweat dripped from foreheads and soaked into their jerseys as they lay sprawled across the field, gasping for air.

On the other side, a few players from Team A trudged off the pitch in silence, heads down, disappointment etched into their faces. The loss wasn't just a scoreline. It felt like a door closing.

But Team D, though exhausted, had more to celebrate. There were high fives, a few back slaps, even a couple of tired grins. They hadn't just played well. They had fought back. Twice. And now, at the end of the Malmö Youth Academy trials, they had done all they could.

Sebastian took a deep breath, pulled the training bib off his back, and hung it over his shoulder. Then he scanned the field, eyes settling on Martin.

Martin was seated on the pitch, his hands planted behind him to support his weight, his head tilted downward, and his chest was rising and falling. He looked like he was lost in his own thoughts, or maybe just catching his breath.

Sebastian walked over.

He stepped in front of Martin, casting a shadow over him.

Martin looked up slowly and squinted at the figure above him. A small smile tugged at his lips.

"You're not going to help me up?"

Sebastian smirked. "I was waiting for you to ask."

He extended his right hand. Martin took it, and Sebastian pulled him to his feet.

The two of them started walking off the pitch, side by side, neither speaking at first. Then Martin broke the silence.

"Do you think it was enough?"

Sebastian glanced at him. "To get accepted?"

Martin gave a slow nod.

Sebastian exhaled, thinking. "Honestly… I don't know. It all depends on the coaches."

He paused, then added, "But what I do know is that we won both of our matches. I scored four goals and assisted one. You scored once and assisted another. That should significantly increase our odds."

Martin nodded again, more to himself this time. "Alright."

Just before they could head into the building to freshen up, someone called out to the group. A loud voice, firm and clear.

"All players, please gather around!"

The announcement echoed across the field, and one by one, the boys made their way toward the group assembling near the center. Some dragged their feet. Others jogged lightly. A few looked hopeful, others uncertain.

One of the Malmö staff members stepped forward once the group had formed.

"First of all, congratulations to all of you," he said. "You've completed the Malmö FF Youth Academy trials. It's been an intense few days, and every single one of you gave everything. You should be proud of yourselves."

A light ripple of murmurs followed.

He continued, "Now, as you've been told, this match was the final part of your evaluation. The selection process will now move to the next stage. Over the coming days, we will review your performances and make our final decisions."

"We already have the contact details for each player's guardian or parent," the staff member went on. "Those of you who are selected will be contacted directly. There will be no need for follow-up from your side. If you're chosen, we'll call."

He looked across the faces in front of him.

"Until then, we thank you for your participation and wish you the very best, whether here at Malmö or wherever your football journey takes you next."

And just like that, the group was dismissed.

The boys began to drift apart again, each one carrying the weight of uncertainty on their shoulders.

Martin turned to Sebastian.

"Well… now we wait."

Sebastian nodded slowly. "Yeah. Now we wait."