Some moments change your life slowly — over months, maybe years.
Other moments hit you like a bolt of lightning, burning the old version of you away and leaving something new behind.
That's what earning my place in the National Youth Squad felt like.
Not joy.
Not excitement.
Transformation.
The kind that turns fear into fuel and dreams into responsibility.
---
Arrival at the Camp
We arrived late in the evening, the team bus rolling through the gates of the National Football Development Center in Abuja.
I had seen pictures online before — but the real thing was different.
The air itself felt different.
Sharper.
Quieter.
Like everyone inside these walls was breathing football.
Massive glass buildings reflected the sunset.
Three full-sized training pitches stretched out in perfect rows.
A gym the size of a supermarket.
And somewhere inside the complex… the legendary altitude fitness chamber I had only heard stories about.
My heart thumped.
I wasn't just here to visit.
I was here to compete — and survive.
Chinedu hopped down from the bus behind me, throwing his arm around my shoulder.
> "Benin boy, welcome to the real battlefield."
I smirked.
> "As long as the goals are the same size, I'm good."
He clicked his tongue.
> "You'll see. The goals here are bigger."
---
We lined up in the lobby, where a stern-looking staff member handed us room keys.
Clean white walls. Marble floor. Cold AC.
Everything screamed discipline.
> "Room 18 — Oyas, Joseph."
I took the card and scanned the hallway signs.
The rooms were paired in twos.
I opened mine.
Inside was a simple bunk bed setup, two wardrobes, and a small desk with a dim blue lamp.
Clean. Organized.
Cold in a professional kind of way.
I wasn't alone for long.
The door opened.
A boy stepped in wearing the number 7 training shirt.
Tall. Muscular. Light-skinned. Serious eyes.
He looked at me like he was scanning danger.
> "You're the new attacking mid?"
> "Yeah."
> "Good. I'm Ibrahim."
He said his name with the confidence of someone who didn't just believe he was good — he knew he was good.
He threw his bag on the top bunk.
> "Don't touch my protein bars."
I blinked.
> "Uh… I wasn't planning to."
He nodded like he had just won a negotiation and plugged his phone into the wall.
Roommate secured, I guess.
---
As I unpacked, the world flickered gold.
> ⚙️ [System Notice]
You have entered a High-Performance Training Zone.
Training Efficiency: +20%
Mental Growth Rate: +10%
A small hologram map appeared, showing the facility layout with glowing markers:
Pitch A: Tactical Drills
Pitch B: Finishing Sessions
Gym: Strength / Endurance
Analysis Room: Video Review
Then a line of text appeared:
> "Host is now among the Top 60 U-17 players in Nigeria. Performance expectations increased."
My hands tightened unconsciously.
Pressure wasn't new.
But this was different — heavier, sharper, realer.
And yet, beneath it… I felt something else.
That fire.
Growing.
---
Dinner.
Dinner at the camp cafeteria felt like stepping into a lion's den.
Every player here was someone.
A captain of their academy.
A star of their school.
A hero in their neighborhood.
And now, we were all equals.
No — rivals.
Chinedu waved at me from across the hall.
The table he sat at had some of the largest personalities I had ever seen.
He introduced them one by one:
Tunde, the left-back with a loud laugh and a louder mouth
Sogie, a short winger with lightning-fast reactions
Kachi, a calm defensive midfielder who barely spoke but saw everything
David, the goalkeeper who looked like he could punch a hole through brick
When I sat down, they all stared at me like I was dessert.
Tunde leaned in.
> "So you're the guy who dropped that top-corner banger, eh?"
I nodded, unsure what to say.
Sogie snapped his fingers.
> "Hope you can do it again. Trials are one thing. This? This is where dreams die."
David scoffed.
> "Relax, Sogie. Let the boy eat."
Chinedu slapped the table.
> "Eat quickly, Joseph. Training starts at 6 a.m. They don't wait for weaklings."
6 a.m.?
My chest tightened.
But I didn't show it.
> "Then I'll wake up at 5."
The table went quiet.
Then Kachi gave a small smile.
> "Good."
---
Lights Out
By the time I crawled into bed, exhaustion mixed with anticipation.
Ibrahim was already asleep, soft snores drifting from the top bunk.
I closed my eyes.
But the day refused to end quietly.
The System glowed again.
> ⚙️ [System Alert – New Mode Unlocked]
"Pro Player Routine Mode"
Daily Objectives Activated:
• Wake at 5:00 a.m.
• Morning stamina cycle (Jogging)
• Tactical memory review
• Passing precision warmups
Failure penalty: Temporary -2 to Stamina
> "Are you ready, Joseph Oyas?"
I whispered into the darkness,
> "I was born ready."
---
My alarm rang at exactly 5:00 a.m.
Before I could blink, Ibrahim rolled off his bed, landing silently like a cat.
He eyed my surprised expression.
> "Rule one: If you're late, you run until you puke."
> "…Good morning to you too."
He cracked a rare smile.
> "Let's go."
We jogged out into the cold Abuja dawn.
Thin mist coated the training pitches.
The world felt quiet, sacred.
I started running.
Slow at first.
Then faster.
Then harder.
My lungs burned, but my legs kept moving.
The dream demands pain.
I understood that now.
After twenty minutes, my System chimed.
> ⚙️ Stamina +0.5 (Micro-Gain)
Small, but real.
Growth.
Every day.
---
The First Training Session
6:00 a.m. sharp.
The whistle blew.
Coach Musa — tall, broad-chested, bald head shining under the floodlights — stepped forward like a general preparing for war.
His voice boomed across the pitch:
> "Welcome to the National Youth Camp!
This is NOT a school team.
This is NOT your academy.
This is NOT your comfort zone.
This… is where the best become better."
No one dared blink.
> "If you survive the next two weeks, you earned your badge.
If you don't… there's the gate."
He pointed behind him.
It felt like a knife to the chest.
Then he blew the whistle.
Hard.
---
Drill 1: Tactical Shadows
Cones scattered.
Lines drawn.
We worked through attacking shapes — triangles, diamond movement, low-position rotations.
I had never done anything this complex.
Every three seconds, someone was shouting:
> "Rotate!"
"Overlap!"
"Drop!"
"Two touches!"
The tempo melted my brain.
My passes grew sloppy.
My breathing turned ragged.
Then—
> ⚙️ Team Chemistry Triggered
+5% passing coordination
The world slowed just enough.
I saw spaces.
Angles.
Openings.
My next pass split defenders clean.
Coach Musa pointed.
> "Good! Again!"
Confidence surged.
---
Drill 2: High-Press Defense
Even as an attacking mid, we were required to press.
And pressing at this level?
It wasn't running.
It was war.
We chased shadows for ten minutes straight.
My chest burned.
My thighs trembled.
I collapsed after one sprint, gasping.
Ibrahim nudged me with his boot.
> "Up."
> "I… can't—"
> "Up."
So I got up.
Because at this level, failure isn't allowed.
---
Drill 3: Mini-Match
Coach divided us into two teams.
I was placed with Chinedu again.
The chemistry between us felt sharper now.
Cleaner.
Deadlier.
The moment the ball touched my foot, the System flared:
> ⚙️ Match Instinct Activated
Micro-Boost to Vision, Control, and Passing
I threaded three passes through tight spaces.
Linked with Kachi for a one-two.
Spun past Ibrahim — who raised his eyebrow in surprise — and laid the ball off for Sogie to finish.
Whistle.
Coach nodded slightly.
Just once.
But it felt like applause.
---
The Pressure
Not everything was perfect.
I lost possession twice.
Mis-timed a run.
Got muscled off the ball by David.
Received a glare from Coach that nearly vaporized my soul.
But I held on.
Every mistake was a lesson.
Every failure was fuel.
And slowly…
I felt myself fitting into this level.
Not perfectly.
Not comfortably.
But truthfully.
I belonged here.
Even if just barely.
Even if I had to fight every second.
---
End of Session
Coach dismissed us with heavy breathing and burning legs.
> "Not bad," he said.
"Tomorrow will be harder."
Harder?
I felt like dying already.
Chinedu slapped my back.
> "Welcome to the big leagues, Joseph."
I grinned weakly.
> "Do they come with medical insurance?"
He laughed so loud even the coaches turned.
---
After dinner, we gathered in the analysis room.
A massive screen lit up.
The coach replayed clips from the session — mistakes, highlights, positioning errors.
Then the screen froze on one moment:
My through-ball to Sogie.
Coach tapped his marker lightly.
> "This is what we want.
Intelligence.
Calm under pressure.
Vision."
My chest warmed.
A subtle nod.
But one that meant the world.
---
Nightfall
Back in the room, Ibrahim adjusted his sheets.
> "You did well today."
It was the first real compliment he'd given me.
> "Thanks."
> "Don't get comfortable. Everyone here wants your spot."
> "I know."
He paused.
> "Good. Then you'll survive."
The lights dimmed.
Silence filled the room.
Then the System appeared once more.
---
⚙️ [SYSTEM NIGHT REPORT]
> Daily Performance Score: 78/100
Training Efficiency Bonus Applied
Micro-Stat Gains:
• Awareness +0.5
• Ball Control +0.5
• Stamina +0.3
• Team Chemistry +1
> "Progress steady. Continue the grind, Joseph Oyas."
The message faded.
But my determination did not.
Tomorrow would be harder.
Tomorrow I'd push further.
Because now…
The dream felt real.
And I wasn't letting go.
Not for anything.
Not for anyone.