The night after the match, I barely slept.
Not because of nerves — but because every time I closed my eyes, I saw that moment again.
The ball leaving my foot, the net rippling, the crowd roaring.
For the first time, I wasn't just a dreamer from Benin City.
I was Joseph Oyas — the kid who scored at the Lagos National Youth Academy.
But morning came fast. Too fast.
The air was thick with humidity, the kind that sticks to your skin like second sweat. I dragged myself out of the bunk in the dormitory they'd assigned to the trialists. Eight beds. Seven boys still snoring, dead to the world. My body ached like I'd fought a war, but my mind was restless.
Today wasn't rest day. Today was "Evaluation Day."
Coach Bello's voice from yesterday echoed in my head:
> "You boys can celebrate your win… but tomorrow we find out who belongs here."
I knew exactly what that meant.
---
Morning at the Academy
By 7:00 a.m., the academy training ground was alive again.
Whistles. Shouts. Boots squeaking on grass.
We were split into three groups — strikers, defenders, and midfielders. I was with the midfielders, about ten of us. Most of the faces were new. A few I recognized from the match, but most were academy regulars — clean boots, fresh kits, confident smirks.
These boys weren't here to play. They were here to stay.
Coach Bello walked down the line, clipboard in hand, his sunglasses reflecting the morning sun. He stopped in front of me, eyes flicking to his sheet.
> "Joseph Oyas, right?"
"Yes, sir."
"Benin boy. You did well yesterday."
"Thank you, sir."
He nodded once, expression unreadable.
> "Let's see if that wasn't luck."
Then he blew his whistle.
---
The setup was simple but brutal.
Four teams of five.
Half-pitch tactical drills — transitions, pressing, counterattack flow.
It wasn't about scoring. It was about movement, communication, intelligence.
The coaches wanted to see who could read the game — who could control it.
I was assigned to Team Yellow.
We were up against Team Blue, the academy's U17 starters. That meant we were the underdogs.
I glanced at my teammates.
Musa — short, sharp, fast on the wing.
Kelvin — tall striker with energy but no calm.
Tobi — a defensive mid who looked half asleep.
Ayo — fullback, solid but quiet.
And me — supposedly the "playmaker."
The whistle blew.
---
Immediately, chaos.
The Blue team pressed like wolves — organized, fast, no time to breathe.
Every time I touched the ball, someone was in my face.
Pass. Move. Turn.
Too slow.
> "Come on, Joseph! Faster!" Coach Bello barked.
I gritted my teeth and tried again.
This wasn't street football anymore.
No flashy dribbles. No crowd cheering. Just systems and discipline.
I needed to think faster.
By the fifth minute, we'd already conceded twice.
No goals counted officially, but the embarrassment burned deep.
Musa threw his hands up.
> "Bro, why you no pass early?!"
> "You were marked!" I snapped back.
He hissed under his breath, and I could feel frustration infecting the whole team.
That's when it happened — a faint ding in the corner of my vision.
---
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
> ⚙️ Adaptive Focus Activated
Your mind is syncing with game rhythm.
Reaction Time: +3
Spatial Awareness: +2
Duration: 10 minutes
---
A rush of clarity hit me.
Suddenly, the game slowed.
Their movements — predictable.
The gaps — visible.
The rhythm — readable.
I adjusted my stance, lowered my center of gravity, and waited.
Blue's midfielder received the ball in the center circle.
I pressed forward. Not too fast — bait him.
He turned right — just as I expected.
I intercepted cleanly, a soft tap to redirect to Tobi.
> "Switch!" I shouted.
Tobi blinked, surprised I was calling plays, but he obeyed.
Ball to Ayo.
Ayo to Musa on the wing.
I sprinted up the middle — space opening like magic.
Musa's cross came in fast.
Kelvin lunged but missed — I didn't.
One touch. Turn.
Through ball behind their line.
The ball curved perfectly into the box. Kelvin finally connected, blasting it past the keeper.
The whistle blew.
> "YES!" I shouted, punching the air.
Coach Bello didn't cheer.
He just scribbled something on his clipboard.
But I saw it — the faintest twitch of a smile.
---
The next round was harder.
Blue switched to a deeper defensive shape, cutting off passing lanes.
I had to improvise.
I started dropping deeper — taking the ball off Tobi and directing traffic.
Short passes. One-twos. Feints.
The game became a dance, and I was the conductor.
When Kelvin got frustrated, I calmed him.
When Musa over-dribbled, I repositioned to open space.
Little by little, our chaos turned into shape.
By the twentieth minute, we dominated possession.
The ball flowed like water — touch, pass, move.
> "Good, Yellow team! Excellent transitions!" one of the assistant coaches shouted.
Sweat dripped into my eyes, but I didn't stop.
This — this was where I belonged.
---
Coach Bello clapped his hands.
> "Last round! One chance per team to score. Make it count!"
Blue started with the ball.
Their striker — tall, muscular, dangerous. He tried a quick turn on Tobi.
I closed in, cutting off his passing lane.
The striker hesitated — too long.
Tobi poked it away, and I pounced.
Now we were on the counter.
> "Go!" I yelled.
Ayo surged up the left. Musa tore down the right.
Kelvin pulled wide, dragging two defenders.
I sprinted through the center, the System pulsing faintly again.
> ⚙️ Precision Boost Active: +2 Ball Control
The ball felt weightless.
Ayo passed. I flicked it first-time to Musa, cutting their defense open.
He crossed.
Kelvin missed again — but I was there, arriving late, ghosting into the box.
Left foot. Volley.
Bang.
Straight into the top corner.
The field went silent for a heartbeat, then erupted in cheers.
Even the academy boys watching from the sidelines clapped.
I turned to Coach Bello.
He wasn't smiling this time — he was grinning.
> "Now that," he said, "is how a midfielder leads."
---
When the drill ended, we all gathered at the center.
Some boys panted, some laughed. I just stood there, feeling the sun on my face, heart still pounding.
Coach Bello pointed his pen at me.
> "Oyas. You're staying for the second phase. Report tomorrow for the closed trials."
A rush of adrenaline flooded through me.
> "Yes, sir!"
I couldn't stop the smile breaking across my face.
Musa nudged me, laughing.
> "Ehn, Benin boy, na so you wan collect all the spotlight abi?"
I grinned.
> "No be my fault say ball dey listen to me."
We both laughed, the tension melting away.
As the crowd thinned and the sun began to dip, the familiar faint blue flicker appeared before my eyes again.
---
[SYSTEM UPDATE]
> 🏅 Skill Evaluation Complete
Passing: +3
Vision: +2
Positioning: +2
⚙️ New Feature Unlocked:
Tactical Awareness Map (Basic)
You can now visualize teammate and opponent positioning during play.
Keep growing, Player One.
---
I couldn't help but laugh softly to myself.
This wasn't just football anymore.
This was destiny in progress — one drill, one touch, one pass at a time.
As I walked back toward the dorms, boots slung over my shoulder, I whispered under my breath:
> "From Benin City to the world… we move."