[U18 Professional Development League - Crystal Palace vs Swansea City]
The whistle blew and the match erupted into life. From his very first touch, one thing was clear to his teammates and his coach.
Victor Dubois was playing at a different gear today.
Within just eight minutes, he had already found the back of the net twice.
The first goal came from a well-timed run into the box.
Jason Akiotu drove down the right wing, cutting inside the Swansea defence. He slowed down for a few moments, his eyes scanning inside the box. Akiotu unleashed a burst of pace to reach the edge of the box and with the inside of his right foot, hit the ball with just the perfect amount of power and grace to whip it gently into the box.
Just in time for Dubois.
Victor timed his leap perfectly, rising above Brandon Cooper and Joe Rodon, his 6ft 3 frame outmatching the defenders. His header thundered past goalkeeper Lewis Thomas, nestling into the top corner.
"NO MANCHES! Oi, did you lot see that???" Dani Rojas called out, eyes wide in disbelief.
Ken Gillard, normally posed with a stern expression, allowed himself a brief smile. "That's the Dubois I want to see."
Swansea's coach, Chris Llewellyn's frustration was already apparent as he started barking orders from the sideline.
"Cooper! Rodon! Cook! Triple mark Dubois! The lad's running circles round ya. Don't give him an inch of space to move around."
Maybe Victor was being slightly petty, taking out last night's frustrations on academy ballers.
A reasonable person might have felt guilty, slowed down for the rest of the match and give the Swansea lads a chance.
But Victor was not that guy.
Less than five minutes later, a loose ball launched from the back bounced awkwardly at the edge of the penalty area after a heavy clearance from Wan-Bissaka. But Victor charged forward to turn the mistake into an opportunity and despite Blake and Cooper struck a fierce volley right off the bounce, low, driven, and utterly unstoppable, echoing memories of Jamie Vardy's incredible strike against Liverpool he had watched on the telly.
Although that hadn't happened yet since he had returned to 2015.
Nonetheless, it was a beautiful, magnificent volley from 30 yards out. No keeper in the universe would save that shot.
The ball blasted straight into the bottom corner, leaving Thomas rooted to the spot.
Victor began jogging back to his side before turning his head, a cheeky smile on his face, towards the goalie to give some heartfelt advice "Oi Tommy, you might have saved that if you weren't too busy being a bloody statue. Come on, give me a challenge. Mans getting bored out here" and he turned his head away, chuckling lightly to himself.
The crowd murmured in shock. Some parents, friends and family came like they always did to support who they know and enjoy a spirited game of footy between U18s.
Instead, they had to watch the football equivalent of smurfing.
Even his teammates were stunned by the precision and power.
"That's not bloody fair, … well , for them anyways" muttered James Cartright under his breath as he jogged past, a grin spreading across his face.
"He's playing out of his mind," added Wan-Bissaka, pumping his fist.
The Swansea defense tightened, now clearly uneasy. Llewellyn shouted more warnings and shifted players to man-mark Victor more aggressively.
But the Eagles' captain was relentless.
In the 25th minute, a slick one-two between Victor and Dani Rojas tore open Swansea's midfield. Dani sprinted down the left flank, and as defenders closed in, he sent a pinpoint cross into the box.
Victor, positioning himself between defenders, soared high into the sky again, out-jumping their defenders again, and lasered another header past the keeper firmly into the back of the net for his third goal of the half.
Showing once again why Eagles were the superior bird.
The bench erupted in cheers. Coach Gillard clapped loudly, shouting encouragement.
"Come on lads keep up the pressure! Lets finish the season strong!"
Victor's influence wasn't limited to scoring. Just before halftime, he orchestrated a brilliant assist. Spotting Jason Akiotu making a darting run to the right, Victor collected the ball near the halfway line carrying the ball into the open space in front of him and delivered a slightly wobbly through ball to the right that barely managed to split past their left back.
Luckily. Jason didn't have to break stride as he took control of the ball with a majestic first touch, practically gluing the ball to his right foot. He kept control and opened up his body seeing the onrushing keeper and calmly slotted the ball past him.
The Swansea players looked shell-shocked. Their formation was disintegrating under relentless pressure.
As halftime approached, Victor found space near the box once more and threaded another assist,a clever flick over the defender to Hendrik Bumbercatch who had made a run in from midfield.
Bumbercatch blasted a shot that had no business making it into the net.
Luckily for Bumbercatch, the keeper was slow to react, still reeling from the four earlier goals he had conceded. All four being orchestrated by someone 3 years younger than him.
The scoreline at the half time mark was an astounding 5-0 in favor of Crystal Palace. Swansea hadn't even played that poorly. They came in with a gameplan - shifting from their usual 4-5-1 to a 4-2-3-1 for a stronger creative presence for the forwards and a double pivot in the midfield.
However, and by no fault of their tactics, they were simply unprepared for Victor Dubois.
Coach Ken Gillard called the team in, visibly pleased. "Great work, everyone. Especially you, Victor. You're leading the way. That desperate to go on holiday are ya?!" with a hearty chuckle.
Victor, sweaty and breathing heavily, slid onto the bench, a wide grin plastered across his face. His teammates patted him on the back, half in awe.
"Mate, that was unreal," said Manny Omrore, shaking his head.
Dani Rojas laughed, "I knew you had it in you!"
Victor wiped the sweat from his brow and allowed himself a brief moment of satisfaction.
'Victor's a consistently good player but rarely this dominant. Guess today, everything just clicked for him,' Gillard thought to himself proudly.
Coach Gillard walked over, placing a hand on Victor's shoulder. "I'm going to sub you off, keep you fresh. You've done enough damage this half."
Victor nodded. "No worries, coach."
Meanwhile, on the Swansea side, the frustration was boiling over. Llewellyn gathered his team, urging them to regroup and tighten up. "We can't let them run riot like this. Focus on defense. Shut down Dubois at all costs."
John Carver, standing inconspicuously by the sidelines, observed the chaos with a calm, calculating gaze. He had seen enough.
Victor Dubois wasn't just ready; he was the only one showing the hunger and skill necessary for the step up.
Carver turned away, heading for a nearby café to grab a coffee and take notes. There would be time to analyse the other players later. For now, his mind was made up.
The future was clear.
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The final whistle echoed across the Crystal Palace training ground, sharp and final.
The scoreboard behind the goal read it all: Crystal Palace U18s – 7, Swansea U18s – 1.
Swansea's players trudged off the pitch, dejected and red-faced. A few exchanged shirts, but most just kept their heads down. Their coach, Chris Llewellyn, stood arms folded at the edge of the technical area, eyes still fixed on the field, fuming silently at the defensive collapse.
On the other side, Palace's squad buzzed with disbelief and excitement.
"Victor, you bloody monster!" Dani Rojas yelled, grabbing him in a headlock.
"Three goals, two assists. What the hell did you eat this morning?" Jason added, half-laughing, half-stunned.
Wan-Bissaka jogged over, slapping Victor on the back. "Man's 15 years old but played like prime Zlatan today. I ain't ever seen you do shit like this!"
Fletcher, Cartright, and Scales swarmed him next, the lot of them surrounding Victor in a circle, arms thrown over each other's shoulders, bouncing and chanting.
"VICTOR! VICTOR! VICTOR! NO! HE'S ZLATAN IN DISGUISE!!!"
Victor grinned, breathless but content. The praise felt good, even if he wasn't the usually the type to soak in the spotlight. He gave them all nods, joking back, but his eyes kept drifting toward the empty sideline, half-aware of something missing from the scene.
"All right, all right," Manny Omrore called, grinning from ear to ear. "We're hitting Nando's, yeah? Peri-peri chicken for the soul. Dubois eats free tonight."
"Man dropped a hat trick, we'll all chip in," Dani said. "Come on, you in?"
"Dubois!" Coach Gillard called out
"Hang back for a few minutes. I want to have a quick chat."
"I'll catch up" Victor said, waving the team off as he lightly jogged over to the coach.
Victor slowed to a stop, breathing lightly. "What's up, coach?"
For a moment, Gillard didn't say anything. His stern expression eased into something almost fatherly.
"You know," he began, "the first time I saw you play wasn't at this academy. It was around a year ago back at that U15 England camp. Tough game against Turkey. You came off the bench around the 70th minute, scored the only goal of the match. I thought to myself, 'This kid… this kid might be the next big thing.' "
Victor blinked, caught off guard. Gillard wasn't the type to hand out praise casually.
"That's why I pushed for you," Gillard continued. "Why I brought you straight into the U18s as soon as you turned 15. You had the touch, the vision, the intelligence. You had everything."
He paused, shifting his weight slightly.
"Everything except that killer instinct."
Victor let out a tiny breath, almost a laugh. "Yeah… I know."
"I've been waiting to see you play like you believed you belonged out there," Gillard said, nodding toward the pitch behind them. "And today? Today you did that. Today you showed everyone what I've known for a long time."
There was genuine pride in his eyes now, raw, and unmistakable.
"I'm proud of you, lad. Proper proud."
The words hit harder than any celebration chant the team had thrown at him.
Victor looked down for a moment, unable to hide the small smile tugging at his lips. "Thanks, coach. Means a lot."
Gillard clapped him lightly on the shoulder. "Right then. Enough of that before you get a big head."
Victor chuckled.
"Go on," Gillard said, jerking his thumb toward the car park. "Get yourself to Nando's before Omrore eats the entire bloody menu. Lads'll never forgive you if you miss it."
Victor grinned, already backing away. "Aye, I'm going!"
His throat felt dry after the conversation so he went towards the cooler by the benches.. He grabbed a bottle, downed nearly half of it in a single gulp, then wiped his face with the hem of his shirt. The adrenaline was fading now, replaced with a strange stillness.
Then he heard footsteps.
Not studs on turf, shoes.
When he looked up, a tall man in a dark coat was standing just a few feet away.
Short-cropped graying hair, sharp eyes. No clipboard. No club gear.
Victor felt like he knew who he was and then it clicked.
John Carver.
'He was assistant coach for the seniors round this time, wasn't he?'
"You've got a decent right foot on you," Carver said casually, folding his arms.
Victor blinked, caught slightly off guard. "Thanks?"
"Five goal contributions in one half." He let out a small laugh. "That's ridiculous. No other word for it."
Victor stayed silent, unsure where this was going although he had a slight inkling that it would be anything but bad for him..
"Look lad, I've been around football long enough to know when someone's just having a good day, and when someone's just better than everyone around him." Carver's gaze narrowed slightly, studying him.
"You were everywhere, lad. Your timing, your link-up play, your movement. That volley…" He shook his head, a faint smile creeping in. "I haven't seen a strike like that since Van Persie made Scott Carson question his career choice."
Victor chuckled at that. "Bit lucky, maybe."
"Lucky?" Carver arched an eyebrow. "The header, the volley, the assist from a blind turn, and that disguised reverse ball? That's not luck. That's instinct. Wasn't perfect but it was damn effective."
Victor stayed quiet, letting the words hang in the air. The others were waiting for him at Nando's, unaware this conversation was even happening.
He stepped a little closer, lowering his voice.
"To tell you the truth kid, I'm here to separate the men from the boys. I think you might be one of them
What I saw today wasn't an academy kid. It was a number nine who could play at the senior level. You played like you knew every weakness in their back line before the match even started."
Victor's jaw tensed slightly. He wasn't sure how to answer that. He couldn't exactly explain it, not in any way that would sound believable. Time for him to pull of a waffling masterclass
"17 goals and 5 assists. Thats your tally from this season. Solid numbers for a 15 year old in a U18 side. But 6 goals and assists in one match" Carver whistled in admiration.
"Why haven't you played like this all season?"
"I… guess I just got in my head a lot before." Victor said. "Didn't trust myself enough. Passed when I didn't need to even when I coulda scored easily. Gaffer's called me out on it a few times."
Carver studied him a moment longer, then nodded slowly. "Well, today you played like someone who trusts himself more than anyone else on the pitch. Frankly, I don't care how you used to be long as you can keep this up. You played like a man with something to prove and the confidence to do it. We need that."
He let the silence stretch for a beat, before reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out a folded slip of paper. He held it out.
Victor took it cautiously and unfolded it. A contact. An address.
"Senior pre-season begins in a few weeks," Carver said. "Unofficially. We'll be bringing some of the academy lads to see if they can handle the jump."
"You want me to come?"
"I want to see if today was a fluke," Carver said, dead serious. "Or if you've finally figured out what you are."
Victor looked at the paper again, then nodded once. "I'll be there."
Carver turned to leave, already satisfied. "Good. But don't show up like a youth player trying to impress."
Victor glanced up. "Then how should I show up?"
"Like you belong."
With that, Carver disappeared towards the parking lot, leaving only the echo of his words and the sound of his shoes stomping against the grass in the background.
Today had been more than just a good game. It was the start of something else.
It felt different than when he was promoted to the senior team at 18.
Victor contemplated what this could all mean for him as he made his way to leave the grounds and meet up with his friends, a large smile forcing its way onto his face revealing his happiness at the day's events.