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[Tychy City Stadium, 18:00, England U-20 vs. Panama -20 – Round of 16]
After the initial shock of the scoreline, Rakim and May adjusted to the atmosphere in Tychy City Stadium. Although they had missed the early goals, the stadium was buzzing with a mix of excitement from English fans and a palpable sense of resignation among the few Panama supporters. Quickly finding their seats they snuggled into each other’s embrace for warmth as they took in the relaxed ambience.
"They really didn’t hold back, huh?" May commented, nodding towards the English players who were moving with an almost lazy swagger performing a few skill moves as they moved the ball among their ranks. It wasn’t that they were making fun of their opponents, quite the opposite they just gelled so well with each other that it came naturally.
Surprisingly, the two youngest of the 3 lions were pulling the strings as in the centre of the field a light-skinned lad with a short afro could be seen pinging passes with ease. He moved with such ease between the enemy lines dictating where the ball went from older players like a born field general. Slightly ahead of him playing the number 10 role was another 16-year-old kid donning England’s number 10.
If Jude was the team’s heart and engine, this boy named Musial was the sole as he easily broke past opponents with his messiesc touches. Just like the Argentinian, he didn’t use a lot of skill moves but instead used his lower sense of gravity coupled with his quick first steps to glide past players. "He reminds me of you, not now but when you first started playing" May suddenly whispered into his ear as they two watched Musiala escape from the encirclement of 3 players as he dribbled to the left side of the box.
Rakim didn’t respond right away as he watched the young maestro cut back before delivering a missile of a pass across the box. Greenwood mistimed his run, and his following swing was too hard sending the ball rocketing into the stands. A burst of disappointed sighs resounded within the lion’s stands followed by encouraging claps. No one seemed to care how the Panama side felt as they prayed to God to deliver themselves from this calamity.
"No, he is better suited to that style of dribbling compared to me," Rakim responded seriously as he watched the three lions regroup for another attack. His centre of gravity is much lower than mine. It used to work for me, but as I started to grow taller and stronger, so I modelled my style after my hero and the Brazilian magician."
"It feels like you’re taller every time I see you," May quipped leaving his embrace to sit up straight to check their height difference. "Maybe you should have played basketball instead,"
"Naw I’ll stick to football, but you can’t go complaining about my height when you’re easily 5’10," Rakim retorted with a light smile pulling her back into his embrace not ready to let go of the warmth. "Plus, my body just wanted to be taller than you so I should stop growing soon,"
"Hahah, as if I heard tall footballers have an easier time on the field, look just like that guy," she said as she pointed at one of the tall Panamian defenders bodying Greenwood in an ariel duel as he cleared the ball with a header.
"Sure, height helps in the sport but past a certain point, it becomes a hindrance if you don’t rigorously drill your body to adapt. If I don’t stop growing, I might have to become a midfielder or a centre forward which wouldn’t be fun at all," Rakim lamented with a sigh not at all liking the prospect of growing further, luckily Eva had assured him that he had reached his natural growth cycle. Stay connected via Freewebnovel
"Why though? Knowing you, you would enjoy having more of the ball and would also score more goals as a striker," May asked with a worried gaze as she seemed to be contemplating what she should do to comfort him just in case he had to give up his favourite position. Despite not fully paying attention over the years she had heard Emma talk about how her brother’s coaches had tried multiple times to get him to change positions.
Rakim chuckled softly, squeezing May’s hand reassuringly. "Playing up front might indeed mean more goals, but there’s something special about wing play for me. I love the freedom, the space to run, and the chance to outmanoeuvre defenders one-on-one. It’s just where I feel at home on the pitch."
What he failed to mention was the fact he enjoyed the adoration player on the wing got for having the freedom to let their creativity bloom. In the middle of the field, one had to worry that the slightest mistake or the heroics of the opposing player could lead to a deadly counter. That is why coaches preferred stable midfielders rather than your Kaka’s who are creatively gifted players who are prone to take risks.
It wasn’t by mistake that the number ten role was being phased out for a more balanced midfield dynamic as teams realised by giving the wings more freedom and establishing the centre they became more efficient in the final third. For Rakim it wasn’t even a question if he didn’t get to play the game his own way, he would quickly lose his joy for the game.
Following a team’s tactic is different from being unable to play your brand of football. The key lies in finding ways to exert your own skills, playstyle and understanding off football to fit in your team’s tactical framework. Players who realised this early on tend to thrive wherever they went drawing praise as they achieved success.
It’s not that they are not good enough to force the team’s tactical framework to shift to better fit around them they just realised they don’t have time to wait a few years for that to happen. That is the sole reason why players like CR7, Zlatan, and Christian Panucci, with the latter winning multiple trophies across Italy with As Toma and AC Millan. He even managed to win Millan a Champions League in 94 only to go on and win it again with the Galactico’s in 97.
Seeing his contemplating something May spoke up again, "It doesn’t matter I will come to watch you play no matter what position. Even if God forbid you on the bench I’ll come to as many games as possible,"
Hearing her words a warm sensation appeared in Rakim’s chest threatening to break free as he subconsciously leaned down to kiss the top of her head. "You should come more ’cause I play 10x better when you’re watching.
"Oh, shut up that’s not a real thing, who could my watching from the sideline make you play better?" She questioned her deep green eyes locking don’t his light ones searching for the answer in his eyes.
Trust me it’s real how else do you think Max managed to get picked up by a professional team in Spain? The scout just happened to attend the matches max spotted Baddies at the side turning him into a monster on the pitch," Rakim explained with a slight smile remembering his friend who turned into prime Messi and Ronaldinho whenever a pretty girl was on the sidelines.
"Baddies huh?" May questioned with slight displeasure as she arched an eyebrow, but Rakim didn’t seem to hear it as he continued.
"Huh, yh he called it the Jordan pool effect after watching the basketball player ball out on March madness after seeing Kylie and her crew on the sidelines," Rakim replied with a matter-of-fact tone as he watched the U-20 England squad take a free kick. "I never understood why but that’s why we used to get Lexi to bring her volleyball and gymnast friends to watch our matches."
"Hmm, now that I think about it you never once asked us or specifically me to watch your matches. It was always Emma asking me to accompany her or your Lisa and Ben asking if we were coming," She asked again her mood dropping further as she seemed to have peaked beneath a vale that had been in front of her for the longest time. "You only asked me to watch your final and when you finally went pro."
No matter how dense or absorbed he was by Jude who sent the freekick crashing against the Pana Bar he realised what was going on. Like the experienced captain of the Titanic who was simply minding his business when an iceberg decided to ruin his day his survival instincts immediately kicked in as he looked for ways to navigate this storm.
"Calm down bae let me land,"
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To Be Continued...