The ball got rolling again after Arthur's near-goal, and Lucas ran to regain his position in midfield.
Team-B pressed high, forcing mistakes from Team-A, but it was too early for any celebrations.
Ethan, the opposing team's number nine, in the middle of the field, looked on impatiently. He gestured to Javier.
"Get a move on! They will not stand around and wait for you to think!"
Lucas watched the interaction as he ran to mark a player who had received the ball.
The play in question was Parker, and he attempted a pass to Simon on the right wing, but Raphael expected the move and cut him off.
The ball fell to Denis, who twisted the ball to Miguel.
Lucas was already racing down the center, and Miguel noticed. With a deft touch, he launched the ball deep.
"Go, Lucas! It's yours!" shouted Miguel, pointing to the space between Kevin and Parker.
Lucas sped up, feeling the icy wind hit his face. He controlled the ball with the outside of his foot, but Kevin arrived quickly, trying to press him against the sideline.
"Are you going to try to pass again, kid?" teased Kevin, leaning in to steal the ball.
Lucas didn't answer. He fixed his eyes on the ball, took two short touches forward and suddenly pulled back, leaving Kevin off balance. He used for this, of course.
Seizing the mont, Lucas cut inside and advanced towards the area.
Parker ca to cover, but Lucas confidently passed to Arthur, who was waiting on the edge of the box. Arthur dominated and shot hard, but the ball went just over the crossbar.
"Thanks, Arthur! Good try!" shouted Alex from the sidelines, trying to keep his spirits up.
At the other end, Javier pushed the opposing team forward. He gestured with his hands, asking his teammates to move. He was their brain.
Simon ran down the right, trying to open up space, while Willian stayed on the left wing, waiting for an opportunity. Enjoy exclusive adventures from empire
Lucas noticed Ethan was isolated in the middle of the B-Team defenders, frustrated by the lack of support.
"Co on, let's mark those passes!" shouted Felix, commanding Team-B's defensive line.
Javier found Simon with a quick pass, and the right-back advanced quickly.
Loki tried to intercept, but Simon was too quick. He got to the by-line and crossed with force. The ball crossed the box, but not A-Team player could reach it.
Lucas took advantage of the counter-attack. When Daniel got the ball back, Lucas was already shooting again. He received the pass at speed and, with a precise touch, took Willian out of the play. Now it was just him and Kevin again.
"You're not going to pass this ti, kid!" shouted Kevin, trying to intimidate him.
"That again?" Lucas asked.
Lucas pretended to cut inside, but quickly changed direction, taking the ball to the end line. Kevin slipped again, drawing discreet laughter from his teammates. Lucas crossed low to Arthur, who was well positioned in the penalty area.
"Arthur, score!" shouted Lucas, his heart racing.
Arthur shot the first ti, but Mark made a spectacular save to keep the ball out.
Mark fell to the ground after the save, his hands still firmly on the ball, as if he was keeping a secret that couldn't be revealed.
The muffled sound of applause ca from the side of the pitch where the A-Team substitutes were cheering.
Lucas raised his hands to Arthur, who was standing still, hands on his waist, taking a deep breath.
"It's okay, Arthur. The next one's in!" encouraged Lucas, approaching him. His friend shook his head, but his eyes showed frustration. It was the third ti he had co close, but to no avail.
"Yeah, if Mark hadn't been born with eight arms," muttered Arthur, kicking the air lightly in annoyance.
On the other side, Javier reorganized his team with quick gestures and sharp glances. Lucas noticed the movent as he returned to midfield. The A-Team's number ten was dangerous, though like a few others, and rarely hesitated.
"Guys, get closer! Double mark Ethan if he gets it!" shouted Lucas to Daniel and Luiz, who were protecting the area.
As Javier ran with the ball through the center, Arthur's mind wandered for a mont to another match, months ago.
It was a pre-season friendly against a small, local team.
Denis commanded the midfield like a maestro. His precise passes opened defenses like rusty gates.
Loki, with his speed and tireless energy, was a constant threat on the flanks. And Miguel... Miguel was the rhythmic one, the player who could see spaces where no one else could.
"Arthur, position!" shouted Miguel, pointing to the space between the opposing defenders.
Arthur obeyed without hesitation, and within seconds, the ball was at his feet. He dribbled past the goalkeeper and finished calmly, sending his teammates into raptures.
"That's the spirit!" said Denis, tapping Arthur on the shoulder as they made their way back to midfield.
But over ti, things changed.
Coach Jinez started experinting with different formations, and the team's chemistry was lost. Arthur, Denis, Loki and Miguel ended up in the B-Team, while new players like Ethan and Willian took center stage in the A-Team.
Returning his mind to the present, Arthur clenched his fists and that brought his attention back to the ga. He saw Javier cut in from the right, escaping Felix's marking.
"Watch out for their attack!" shouted Lucas.
Javier made a deep pass to a player who was already speeding up down the wing.
Loki ran to intercept, but Simon crossed before he got there. The ball ca in high, spinning in the air like a promise, but Daniel, alert, rose higher than Ethan and cleared the danger.
The relief was montary. The ball fell to Willian, who controlled it skillfully and advanced down the left.
Denis rushed to put pressure on him, but Willian was agile and escaped with a short dribble.
"Go, Ethan!" shouted Willian, crossing low.
Ethan positioned himself between Daniel and Luiz Fernando, using his body to protect the ball. He pivoted and shot, but Anton grabbed the ball with both hands.
"Co on, guys, we're letting them play!" shouted Aidan from the side of the pitch.
Arthur looked at Lucas and Denis, who were exchanging quick glances, trying to reorganize the marking near midfield. He knew he needed to do more, but the mories kept haunting him.
After that pre-season friendly, there was a eting in the dressing room.
Jinez was serious, his hands folded behind his back as he looked at each player.
"You have talent, but talent isn't enough. I need players who understand the collective, who sacrifice for the team."
Arthur rembered how Denis had tried to argue.
"But we're already working well, coach. Why change now?"
Jinez shook his head. "That's exactly why. Comfort is the enemy of progress. You'll be divided into two groups. And I want to see who can adapt the fastest."
Arthur would never forget the feeling of being separated from Loki and Miguel. B-Team seed like a punishnt at first, but now he saw it was more than that. It was an opportunity.
The ball ca back to Miguel, who was standing back but paying attention. He raised his head and saw Lucas running through the middle. With a milliter pass, he launched the ball deep.
Lucas got the ball on the end of his foot and advanced, but a player was in front of him again. He smiled in the corner, undeterred. Lucas faked a cut inside, but kept the ball on the sideline, deceiving his marker. With a cross over the top, he found Arthur on the edge of the box.
Arthur took a deep breath. He knew he couldn't waste this chance. With a precise touch, he latched onto the ball and shot with force.
The sound of the ball hitting the post echoed around the pitch, followed by a collective groan from the B-Team players.
"Damn! Why can't I shoot properly today? What's wrong with you two?" He looked down at his legs.
Arthur lowered his head and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to contain the wave of frustration that was rising like a high tide inside him. He took a deep breath, trying to stay calm, but he couldn't shake the feeling that all eyes were on him.
"Relax, Arthur! The goal is coming, can you feel it?" shouted Raphael.
Arthur looked up at his friend, who was already running back to the score.
Arthur straightened his socks, and, for a mont, he was back in ti. He must have been about eight years old. It was a cold, wet day in Brighton, the day that makes your hands burn when you touch sothing tallic.
Arthur held his mother's hand as they hurried through the city streets. She wore a shabby but elegant coat, her blonde hair tied up in a hasty bun. She had left straight from work.
"Co on, Arthur. I don't want us to miss the start of the ga!" she said with an anxious smile.
Arthur was exhausted, his little legs struggling to keep up with her pace. But he didn't complain. He never complained when the destination was Brighton's stadium. They couldn't buy tickets for the big Premier League gas, but sotis there were promotions or charity matches where the stars appeared.
That day, the star was none other than Alan Shearer, the legendary English striker who had retired but made sporadic appearances in charity matches.
When they finally arrived at the stadium, Arthur's heart raced. He had never seen a pitch so bright, so alive.
The sll of freshly cut grass mixed with popcorn and hot dogs enveloped him like a warm hug.
His mother pointed to the bleachers. "Let's sit over there. I think we can get a good view from there."
Arthur nodded, his eyes shining with excitent.
When the ga started, he was covered. But it wasn't just the spectacle that fascinated him. It was Shearer. He was controlling the ball as if it extended his own body. And then ca the mont that would remain etched in Arthur's mory forever.
Shearer received a long pass, took it on his chest, turned and, with an impeccable finish, sent the ball into the corner. The stadium exploded, and Arthur scread like he had never scread before.
He turned to his mother, his eyes wide. "Did you see that? I want to be like him one day!"
She smiled and ruffled his hair. "You can, Arthur. You just have to believe and work hard."
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