Chapter 10 –The Match Begins

Chapter 10 –The Match Begin

Thijs stood on the grass, the sun warming the white-and-blue RC Huissen shirt on his shoulders. Around him, the other boys shifted from foot to foot, buzzing with restless energy.

Coach Erik blew a sharp whistle. "Alright, boys! Come over here!"

They jogged closer, forming a loose half-circle. Some were still giggling and jostling each other, others bouncing a ball gently between their feet. Thijs stood calm among them, scanning faces he was starting to recognize.

Coach Erik grinned. "Time for a match. Nothing too serious — just show me what you've got."

Bram immediately shot his hand up. "Can I be striker?"

"No fair!" Jelle protested. "You're striker every time!"

Coach Erik held up both hands. "Boys, boys — no positions today. Just two teams. Let's have fun and keep moving."

He began pointing, splitting the group. "Thijs, Bram, Jelle, Tim — you're on the white team. Luca, Noah, Sam, and Milan — you're blue team."

Thijs glanced at Bram, who gave him a quick grin. Jelle looked determined, as though this was the World Cup final. Tim just nodded shyly.

On the other side, the blue team was already trying to decide who'd start with the ball. Luca was bouncing on his toes, Noah and Sam were arguing about who should play in goal, and Milan simply stood quietly, eyes fixed on the ball at the centre spot.

Coach Erik placed the ball in the middle of the small pitch. "Remember — spread out. No crowding around the ball. Look up. And have fun!"

From the sideline, Thijs heard his mother call out, "Go, Thijs! Show them your moves!"

His father cupped his hands around his mouth. "Play smart, son!"

Thijs felt a warm surge in his chest. He took a breath and looked around the field.

This is where it starts, he thought. Let's see what I can do.

Coach Erik blew his whistle.

Instantly, kids from both teams charged forward, legs pumping, voices rising in a chorus of shouts and laughter. Shoes slapped against the grass.

Bram yelled, "I'm open!" even though he was buried in a cluster of three blue shirts.

Jelle tried to kick the ball but missed entirely, spinning halfway around. Tim raced forward, determined to help but accidentally bumped shoulders with Thijs.

"Sorry!" Tim said breathlessly.

"It's okay!" Thijs said, keeping his eyes on the ball.

Thijs didn't dive into the pile. Instead, he hovered at the edge, reading the chaos, looking for the moment the ball might pop loose.

From the sideline, his mother shouted again. "Good thinking, Thijs! Find space!"

Coach Erik clapped his hands. "Excellent, Thijs — stay open!"

The ball suddenly squirted out of the crowd and rolled toward Thijs. He took two quick steps and cushioned it under his foot.

He lifted his head, scanning the field for his teammates.

Now let's play.

Thijs steadied the ball under his foot. The grass felt soft but firm, perfect for a clean pass. He glanced up, scanning the field. Bram was waving his arms frantically, shouting, "Here! Here!" though three blue shirts surrounded him.

Too risky, Thijs thought.

Instead, he turned his body and slipped the ball sideways to Tim, who was standing in space on the right. Tim's eyes widened as the ball rolled toward him, and he hurried to trap it under his foot.

"Good pass, Thijs!" Coach Erik called from the sideline.

Tim tried to return the ball, but his kick came off the side of his foot and trickled only a few meters forward. Luca from the blue team pounced, charging in and scooping up possession.

"Go, Luca!" someone from the blue side yelled.

Luca bolted forward, eyes huge, hair flopping as he sprinted. Jelle lunged in with a wild swipe of his foot, missing completely and nearly spinning himself in a circle.

Thijs darted across Luca's path, stepping in front just as Luca tried to push the ball past him. With a neat flick of his instep, Thijs stole it away, shielding it with his body.

"Nice tackle, Thijs!" Coach Erik shouted.

His father's voice rang out from the sideline. "That's it, son! Keep control!"

Thijs felt heat spread through his chest, not embarrassment but pure, buzzing energy.

He nudged the ball forward and kept moving. Tim peeled off to the right, Jelle was jogging up the middle, and Bram was… well, Bram was still waving both arms like a windmill, demanding the ball.

Thijs gave a tiny smile. Okay, Bram. Let's see what you've got.

He slipped a short pass forward into Bram's path. Bram thundered forward, took one enormous swing at the ball — and sent it flying high over the fence and into a bush behind the goal.

Everyone froze.

For a moment there was complete silence.

Then Bram yelled, "Goal!"

Jelle stared at him. "It went in the bushes, dummy!"

Bram threw his arms wide. "But it was a great shot!"

Coach Erik slapped a hand over his eyes and muttered, "Oh, Lord…"

Thijs burst out laughing, and so did half the kids on the field. Even Coach Erik started chuckling.

"Alright, Bram," Coach Erik said. "Good enthusiasm. But let's keep the shots lower next time, okay?"

Bram puffed out his chest. "It's called power, Coach."

Coach Erik sighed. "Yeah, well, the bush doesn't count as the net."

A parent climbed over the fence to retrieve the ball, emerging with grass stains and a few twigs stuck in his hair. Everyone clapped and cheered.

Play resumed with Coach Erik rolling the ball back onto the pitch. Thijs jogged forward, ready.

This time, Jelle managed to intercept a loose pass from Sam and nudged it to Thijs in the middle. Thijs took one quick touch to settle the ball, then accelerated, darting between Noah and Milan, who both lunged at him too late.

"Go, Thijs!" his mother shouted, clapping her hands.

Luca stepped out to challenge him, closing the angle with surprising speed for his age. His arms were spread, eyes locked on the ball.

Thijs felt a split-second of thrill. This is more like it.

He gave a quick fake to his left. Luca bit on it, shifting his weight. Thijs cut sharply to his right and pushed the ball past Luca's outstretched foot.

Now there was open space. Thijs swung his right foot and struck the ball low and hard. It skidded across the grass and slipped just inside the far post.

A ripple of cheers rose from the sideline. His father punched the air.

"Yes, Thijs!"

Coach Erik grinned broadly. "Excellent finish, Thijs! Calm and precise!"

Bram bounded over and smacked him lightly on the back. "Told you we'd score!"

Jelle yelled, "Nice one, Thijs!"

Thijs grinned, his chest heaving a little as he trotted back to midfield. This feels right. Like I never left.

Play started again, and for a few minutes the ball pinged back and forth in chaotic bursts. Milan managed a decent shot for the blue team, but it rolled wide of the post.

Then Tim made a scrappy tackle near midfield and poked the ball loose to Thijs.

Thijs pulled it under control, paused just long enough to look up, and noticed a gap between two blue defenders. He feinted left, cut right, and burst through the space with surprising speed for his small frame.

"Thijs! Shoot!" Bram bellowed.

But Thijs kept going, one more touch to pull away from Noah.

From the sidelines, his mother's voice rang out, high with excitement. "Go, Thijs!"

At the top of the box, Thijs planted his left foot and struck the ball cleanly. It flew past Milan, who'd hurried into goal this time, and nestled into the opposite corner of the net.

A loud cheer went up. His father's voice boomed, "Brilliant, Thijs!"

Coach Erik clapped his hands so hard the sound echoed. "Fantastic goal, Thijs! Great composure!"

A soft blue glow flickered at the edge of Thijs's vision.

> [Mission complete: First team match at RC Huissen.]

[Progress +5% in Finishing.]

Thijs blinked as the message faded. He looked up, heart racing, and saw Bram racing toward him.

"Dude!" Bram yelled. "That was awesome!"

Jelle slapped him on the shoulder. "You're really good, Thijs!"

Thijs laughed breathlessly. "Thanks, guys."

He glanced toward the sideline and saw his parents beaming, clapping, and calling his name.

---

Coach Erik blew his whistle and waved both arms. "Okay, boys — water break! Fantastic effort from everyone!"

Thijs jogged to the sideline, grinning as he grabbed his bottle. His mother ruffled his hair as he took a drink.

"You played amazing," she said. "I'm so proud of you."

His father added, "Two goals already. Just keep working hard, son. That's how great players start."

Thijs nodded, chest still rising and falling with quick breaths.

I'm going to keep working. I'm not letting this chance slip away.