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Before training the next day, on a Wednesday afternoon, Coach Eddie ca into the changing room.

Everyone looked at him. Normally he would stand under so shade near the pitch, just giving them orders during training.

Seeing him in the locker room was a rare sight.

"Sir, did sothing happen?" asked Anton as he finished putting on his uniform shirt.

Eddie looked at all the players who were sitting on the bench and standing up. "Is everyone here?"

The boys looked around and nodded at the sa ti.

"So, I have to give you so news. This weekend, you have a very important match. It's against Team-A. As they train on the pitch in the morning and you in the afternoon, the match will be on Saturday morning." Eddie announced.

The dressing room was silent for a few monts after Eddie's announcent. It was as if his words had taken an extra second to take root in the players' minds. The news was too big to absorb imdiately. The A-Team. It wasn't just any opponent; it was the opponent everyone wanted. The team that symbolized everything they wanted to prove.

"Is that it? We're going to play them?" Loki was the first to break the silence, his voice laden with an almost childish enthusiasm. He stood up so quickly that the towel he was holding slipped to the floor.

"Looks like they're finally going to take us seriously," comnted Denis, who crossed his arms and tilted his head, his gaze filled with a confidence that seed to glow like a fla.

"That's it, lads!" Arthur punched the air, as if he could already taste victory. He had been switched from Team-A to Team-B. At that mont, he seed more motivated than ever.

Miguel, normally only focused on the music in his headphones, let out a subtle smile as he adjusted his socks. For him, this ga was more than an opportunity. It was redemption.

Eddie raised a hand, asking for silence, and everyone instantly turned their attention to him. His gaze was serious, almost stern, as if he was about to throw a bucket of cold water on the collective euphoria.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he said in a hoarse voice. "I haven't finished yet."

The players exchanged glances. Eddie's tone clarified that there was sothing more, sothing that could change everything.

"I've got sothing I haven't told you yet," said Eddie.

"What is it, sir?" soone asked.

He swallowed. "This ga will decide who gets the main championships. We can't use two different teams in the sa tournant because of a conflict of interest. So whoever wins will be the team that plays in the senior leagues. While the team that loses will only have to play in secondary competitions."

Each of the eleven boys was paralyzed, as if Eddie's words had turned the air into sothing heavy and almost impossible to breathe.

It was as if lightning had struck the ground between them, cracking the ground beneath their feet.

The initial excitent evaporated, giving way to exchanging glances full of uncertainty, worry. Playing against the A-Team was an opportunity, but worth the whole season? It was frightening.

Aidan was the first to move, leaning against the locker with a deep sigh. He ran a hand through his dark, sweat-soaked hair.

"So... that's it," he said, as if trying to convince himself. "A ga... that decides the future for all of us."

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Arthur, who had been standing since the initial announcent, stepped forward. "They think we're inferior. Since I ca to Ti-B, they've never looked at as if I had a chance. This is a test. A test to see if we can survive... or if we'll just accept what they think about us. We will win."

Loki, sitting on a bench next to Denis, crossed his arms and leaned forward. His cheerful smile had disappeared, replaced by a serious expression.

"They're not testing us, Arthur," he whispered. "They're discarding us. If Team-A wins, which everyone expects, we'll be left behind. That's what they want."

Luiz Fernando, with his arms crossed and his countenance closed, shook his head slowly.

"But what if we win? If we win, there's no way they'll ignore us. There's no way they'll call us 'the other team'. We'll be the first team."

All eyes turned to Eddie again. He remained where he was, his posture rigid, but his eyes showed a slight sadness that only soone very attentive would notice. He took a deep breath before speaking.

"Yes. If you win, everything changes," he said. "You'll go to the top. You'll get the recognition you deserve. But it won't be easy."

"Easy?" Daniel let out a short, incredulous laugh. He was sitting in the corner, nervously fiddling with the straps of his boots. "They have the best players. Everyone knows that. How are we going to compete with them?"

"Are you saying you've already lost?" Raphael retorted imdiately, leaning forward with his fists clenched. "If we go out onto the pitch thinking like that, we don't even need to play."

"Enough." The voice of Alex, the assistant coach, cut through the room like a blade.

He, who had been leaning against the wall until then, stepped forward.

"You haven't even been on the pitch yet and you're already dividing yourselves. This isn't about them. It's about you. About what you can do together."

Eddie nodded at Alex, approving of the intervention, and then spoke again.

"I know you're scared. It's only natural. But I want you to rember one thing: you're a team. You may not be the A-Team, but you are a team. And on Saturday, the only thing that matters is how you play together. If you go out on the pitch scared, they'll crush you. But if you play the way I know you can..."

He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to.

Felix, who until then had been silent, got up from the bench and started walking around the changing room, his footsteps echoing in the cramped space.

"So that's it. They think we're weak. That we don't stand a chance. But you know what, maybe that's our advantage."

Everyone looked at him, confused.

"What do you an?" asked Miguel.

"I an that they're not expecting us to really fight," replied Felix, stopping in the middle of the changing room. "They're going to go out onto the pitch thinking they've already won. And that's when we catch them."

"That's a lot of theory, Denis." Daniel retorted. "They're even better."

"So we do sothing different," said Hillebrand, speaking up for the first ti. "We play our ga. We don't be them. We try to be... us."

Eddie gave a small smile, imperceptible to most. "Exactly," he said. "That's what I want to see on the pitch. Don't worry about imitating them. Be the team you've been training to be. Be the team that nobody expects to win... and surprise everyone."

The dressing room fell silent again, but this ti it was a distinct silence. It wasn't one of fear or uncertainty, but of reflection. Of preparation.

Seeing this, Lucas smiled. He had deliberately decided not to say anything.

"So, what's the plan, boss?" Anton asked. "Because it looks like we've got a long job ahead of us."

Eddie smiled, finally relaxing a little. "The plan, Anton, starts now. Counting today, we have two days of training before the ga. We're going to work as hard as ever. But first, I need you all to do sothing."

"And what's that?" Arthur asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I want you to believe," Eddie replied. "Not in . Not in the opposing team. Believe in yourselves and the surrounding others. Because on Saturday, that's going to be more important than any tactical sche."

The players nodded slowly. It was a bigger challenge than any of them had expected, but at the sa ti, an opportunity they couldn't afford to miss.

"So, let's get to work," said Eddie finally, turning to leave the dressing room. "Because in two days' ti, you're going to show what you're made of."

Over the next two days, Miguel, Arthur, Loki and Denis helped all the boys during training, guiding them and informing them about what they would have to do to deal with certain A-Team players.

As they used to belong to the A-Team, they had a lot of information about their teammates. anwhile, the A-Team didn't have any information about them or how they played, and that was fine.

To avoid any kind of favoritism, the coaching staff were forbidden from helping their players for this friendly. They couldn't conduct specific training sessions to deal with the players, or advise on how they should play or set them up tactically. It was entirely up to the players.

So the two days of training flew by and before everyone knew it, match day arrived.

Lucas woke up earlier than he usually did on Saturdays. Five-thirty in the morning. He needed to do his daily exercise mission.

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