The Present and The Future [Presture?TT]

Marvin—one of the players that formed the wall—was staring at Lukas as he placed the ball down.

"He can't be good at everything." He thought as he tried to convince himself that Lukas was not good at free kicks.

He had seen Lukas' passing, dribbling, and finishing skills. From the first goal, he already knew that he had lost his bet with Alex. But he still prayed Lukas would be terrible at free kicks.

God turned a deaf ear to his prayers, though.

Lukas looked at the wall, then at the goalkeeper. His eyes were filled with quiet rage.

Since Maurice judged that giving Keziah a potentially career-ending injury in a friendly match was worth it, he was going to punish them for that.

The referee blew his whistle, as Lukas took one last look at the wall before his run-up.

BOOM*

He struck the ball ferociously with the area just above the base of his toes—the top center part of his foot.

He hit it cleanly, with no follow through as the ball tore through the air.

It swerved awkwardly before violently striking under the crossbar and hitting the net.

The goalkeeper was rooted to the spot.

GOAL

Lukas had executed a textbook knuckleball technique. He hit the ball so hard like he was taking out his anger on it.

The U17 players rushed him screaming as he stood there.

Lukas just turned towards the sidelines and pointed to Keziah who was now sitting with the medical team performing first aid treatment on his leg.

Keziah had a big smile as he clapped for Lukas.

The clap started from Keziah, then another U17 player on the bench, then a coaching staff, and before long both the U17 and U19 team members — including the coaches, clapped at Lukas' display.

They had just seen a performance that proved that Lukas was above even the U19 level. It was a match where one young kid had taken his vastly weaker side to victory.

The third goal and everything that led up to it was like a nail in the coffin for the U19 team, who resumed the match as if praying for the final whistle.

They knew they had been outclassed by a kid who looked no older than 16 but played nothing like his age would suggest.

FWEEE*

The referee's whistle put the U19 team out of their misery.

Marvin sat on the ground gazing into the distance, he couldn't believe the way the match had unfolded — one time they looked like they had the game in their hands, but one man had snatched it away heartlessly.

Lukas on the other hand was surrounded by his teammates as they talked about all the crazy things that happened during the match.

He looked at the sidelines, and couldn't find Keziah—he had been taken to the academy clinic after Lukas' free-kick goal.

"Hey, your name's Lukas right? Nice game." A blonde-haired kid stretched his hands towards Lukas.

"Yeah I'm Lukas. You had a nice game too. That was a crazy leap for that header." Lukas responded as he took the outstretched hands.

"I'm Alex. Nice to meet you Lukas. Thanks but it's nothing compared to your game."

"Thanks."

"I have a friend I want you to meet, but I doubt he'd be fun to talk to for you right now. I'll introduce you later." Alex said as he used a nod to point behind Lukas.

Lukas turned around to see a distraught Marvin looking at nothing in particular.

"Yeah. I think the introduction can wait." He said with a smile.

"Hahaha. I think we'll be seeing more of you soon. Personally I think you're past even the U19 stage, but I think the club might find it difficult to push you higher than that for now. But that's good for me though, if I can get half the passes you were feeding to your center forwards today, I'd break serious records." Alex said with a laugh.

"Thanks for the compliment. We'll see how it goes." Lukas responded.

The training session was over, so the teams walked to their separate locker rooms.

"Hey Lukas," Alex called out as they got to the corridor that separated the U17 and U19 locker rooms.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for the €20."

"Huh?"

"Don't worry about it." Alex said as he walked out laughing.

"Has he gone crazy? Damn. Losing sure is tough." Lukas thought as he walked into his locker room

* * *

In an office located at the top floor of the administrative block of Riederwald academy.

The office walls were painted white with red spatters on it like inkblots. On one side of the wall was a huge symbol of Eintracht Frankfurt.

A brown table made of mahogany wood was standing in the center of the room with a long couch by the west wall.

To the side directly opposite the entrance door, was a table much bigger than the center table and filled with documents.

An executive chair was behind this table, and a balding man who looked to be in his early to mid 50s was unable to take his eyes away from the field where the match had just ended.

It was Alexander Richter—the head of the Riederwald Academy.

He had watched everything. From the starting whistle, to the final one. He had seen Lukas' performance. And although, the field was currently being emptied out, his eyes were still glued to it.

Richter had seen a lot of talented youngsters, there were some players who were just ahead of their peers.

He hadn't seen anyone like Lukas though.

How calm he was under pressure, his vision to see passing lanes, his courage to try those daring passes, his precision to make the pass, his defensive awareness, his strength, his set-piece ability—all that at 15?

He had made a call and gotten Lukas' file after he tried that defense-splitting pass in the first twenty seconds of the match.

He looked at the file in his hands—Lukas' player profile.

"I need to get him into the club right now. July 1st, hopefully everything goes well."

After what felt like 15 minutes of gazing at the pitch in deep thought, Richter finally turned around and walked to his seat.

He stretched his hands and took the black telephone on his desk before starting to dial a number—

"I shouldn't call Glibo, he won't be the coach anymore in 2 weeks." He put the phone back down before he finished dialing.

Kristjan Glibo was the head of the Eintracht Frankfurt reserve team at that time, but Richter knew he was virtually already replaced.

The club was just waiting for Glibo's contract to run out so they can appoint Dennis Schmitt who had already signed to be his replacement.

Richter picked up the phone again as he dialed another number.

RING*

The phone only rang once before the call connected.

"Hello, Mr. Schmitt, this is Alexander Richter. Do you have a minute?"

"Hello, Mr Richter. I hope all his well." A gruff voice came through the phone.

"All is well, I just wanted to speak to you about a player I think your team would need."

"Really? Thanks for the help. I am currently not in Frankfurt, I will be returning tomorrow. I will come over to the academy on Monday for us to discuss it, if it's not too late."

"No, that works perfectly. See you on Monday."

"Alright. See you."

Dennis Schmitt—a young man in his early 30s—ended the call.

He was in the hospitality section of the Munich stadium—one of the best stadiums in Europe and the home ground of Bayern Munich—as he watched the stadium getting packed by the minute.

There was still a few hours before the opening match for Euros 2024—Germany vs Scotland—but the Allianz Arena was already bouncing with expectations.

Dennis looked at the scenes outside—fans jumping, the DFB flag waving proudly, chants breaking out from several sides of the pitch.

The fans had turned the Allianz Arena into a cauldron, and Scotland was about to feel the heat.

"A recommended player before I'm even the coach? Let's see the players Riederwald have." He thought to himself with a slight grin.

* * *

In a local pub in Darmstadt, Lukas was seated on a stool with his father.

Javi had a jar of beer, while Lukas was drinking a cup of orange juice.

The pub was filled to the brim, and was as loud as it gets.

The color of the day was undoubtedly black and white with red majority of the customers wearing a German national team jersey or a scarf or a combination of both.

Lukas had a Thomas Muller shirt on as he looked around the pub in amusement.

"This is what it looked like at this time, huh?" He thought with a smile.

He was a regular at this pub, and even had an open tab by the time he died in the previous timeline.

Mounted on one end of the pub was a huge flat screen LG TV.

A pre-match ad had just finished playing as the feed cut back to the field.

"WOAAAHHHH!"

A/N: I see the GTs and PS and I am so grateful.

I am, first and foremost, a reader. So I know how difficult it is to get a GT and even how much more difficult it is to gift it to a new novel from a new author. I am grateful.

moped1244 gave me my first GT and that there, will always be true, I am grateful.

Pandaontop literally said "Here, take 4 GTs, it's nothing." Thank you so much!

Lilitha_Siko with a GT. I see you. I'm very grateful.

You all have a wonderful day/night (I mean everyone reading this—but especially the three mentioned above.)

I love y'all

-Writ