Field Day

The challenge had stopped.

It was halted without Blaise even touching the ball due to the sudden arrival and the curiosity of the two veterans of the team.

Steve Bronson himself explained the situation to the two, earning the teasing of Potts, who's already having a nostalgic trip down memory lane once he saw Bronson wearing the goalkeeper mitts and attire.

"Hey, Blaise boy, you sure are special huh, you managed to draw something out of the grave!" Potts was like a youngster with his teasing. "This guy hasn't worn a keeper's glove since we were dumb teenagers chasing our dreams!"

"Really?" Blaise was bamboozled. Of course he already knew the career ending injury the boss suffered in his academy years, but he never expected him to not even have tried playing even casually after! Didn't he miss it one bit?

"Yeah, he's become so allergic to it at one point, so how could I even imagine that just for you he'd even be the man between the sticks himself?" Potts couldn't contain himself.

"Stop it. I haven't even tried out his shot yet when you swaggered your way in." The manager slapped Potts' back. "You two, just bugger off to the side, will you? We have a match to finish."

Trent was already on his way to the bleachers when Damian looked at him incredulously.

"Hey! You're giving up just like that? Don't you want to be a part of this 1v1?"

"It's a damn 1v1, moron!" Trent shouted without turning back as he laid down on the bleachers while using his hands as pillows.

"No, no, no! Don't you think it's better if there's a defender?" Damian can't stop now. He wants a piece of the fun! "I won't challenge or anything like that… uhhh… I promise I'll just stand there to make it a little more realistic!"

"Let the kid do his first two long shots, before you go." Steve Bronson was already moving back in between the sticks when he gave Potts the permission to change the game rules.

The challenge is back on finally!

Blaise didn't want to waste time, so he handed the remote control to George, whose sweat had already subsided from the several minutes of conversations. Damian just stood several feet away, watching intently like the focused mentor he is.

The first ball from the left arrived promptly, with Blaise making a running start to strike the ball with more power.

Trent was not looking at Blaise at the moment, instead sending his eyes the way of his club manager, and realizing that his usual calm demeanor on matches was gone, replaced by a hint of both a smile and tension.

At the point of the strike, Blaise prayed he wouldn't kill his manager on the spot. The ball arced to the side, fooling the manager to go to his left as the ball switched direction to the right in mid air. The wonderful shot hit the small right part of the net, close to the posts.

The three people in the pitch all either had the face of shock, or awe at the quality of that shot.

Blaise gave that shot a nine of ten for himself.

The second shot arrived too quickly for Steve Bronson.

This is too fast! He wasn't ready yet!

He flashed a look of something in between anxiety and embarrassment. Steve tried his best to put a finger on the shot that had a lot less power and speed than the first one, but still failed, as he landed near the left post with the shot squeaking through the goal.

All of a sudden, Damian Potts ran to the marker at the edge of the penalty area, and did his warm ups without giving a fuck. The manager behind him cursed at him, and Trent at the sideline mocked him for being so shameless. The two players that were supposed to be doing a one against one looked at each other like they've been shamelessly bamboozled into a 2v2 by their captain...

The match continued on with higher difficulty for the two. George thought he'd be able to handle it better since he's a natural striker with several years of League One experience, but that didn't seem to be the case as the match went on.

Since after eight shots, George was staring at a two goal disadvantage against the rookie.

A crowd had formed in the bleachers too. At first, it was only Trent leaning at the bleachers, but after the eighth strike was buried by Blaise to the top left corner, the crowd that screamed for it numbered more than thirty.

There were several first teamers that have also arrived, several of the club's staff enjoying their early breaks, and several members of the youth teams scattered around in small groups to see their star striker getting whacked by a newly promoted first teamer.

George was sweating like a man stuck in a sauna for hours. He knows only a miracle would allow him to win, since even if he drills both his two remaining shots, the new guy just needs one to win! Plus, he had no room for error! He needs to send both to the back of the net!

The first teamers watching by the side have their phones recording this once in a blue moon occasion. All of them had smiles plastered on their faces.

Seeing the coach returning to his goalkeeping roots? That's camera worthy.

The 1v1 maniac leading their line getting trounced by a teenager? That's even more camera worthy!

This was a special scene for many, including Blaise. This challenge that the manager sprang on him on a whim became his notable entrance. He could actually even see some of his friends from the under 18s watching with awe.

He pressed the button as the ninth ball of George Williams made its way to him. He readjusted his positioning, as he took in a deep breath, and made contact with the ball with the inside of his right foot as it hit the ground.

"Fuck!" George's scream echoed throughout the field, as he watched his shot getting dragged several inches wide of the left post...

Trent and the first teamers were slack jawed that their striker was beaten without even reaching the tenth shot. Except Damian though, who was instead smiling like a smug mentor. Steve meanwhile, breathed a massive sigh of relief, glad that his nostalgic goalkeeping shift was finally over.

The youth teamers also rejoiced with their fists up high in celebration, as if they won their league. Cameron was standing alone quite far away from everyone, and even he felt a little pride welling up inside him.

Blaise, amid all this, felt that he was left hanging a little. He didn't even manage to take ten cracks at scoring! He scored six in eight from that range, certainly was a fantastic haul even for him, but how could it have been over already!

Can I still take the final two shots, boss? He didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

He looked around, and saw the many emotions in the crowd, and even with the people near him. It brought him back to the reality that everyone saw a seventeen year old beat a League One striker in a shootout…

It was somewhat of a fantastic introduction to the first team.