Chapter 35:- AFC Asian Cup Winner

Boooom!!!!!!

As the referee's final whistle cut through the clamor of the crowd, a feeling of exhilaration swept across the stadium. Kabir looked up at the scoreboard, his heart pounding with a sense of euphoria. "Kabir has scored his 4th goal. Now the score is 4 - 2," the commentator's voice echoed through the stadium. "With his goal, Kabir now has become Bangladesh's top scorer. Kabir also has become the youngest Bangladeshi top scorer."

A tidal wave of joy washed over the faces of thousands of spectators as they cheered. Their voices coalesced into one resonant echo, "Yes! We won!" Kabir's name reverberated through the stadium as fans, lost in the euphoria of the moment, began chanting, "K9 completely dominated this tournament. Kabir, I love you. Kabir!"

Even those closest to him, Yukina, Khalid, and his mother, found themselves carried away by the jubilant chorus, shouting his name along with the crowd. The entire nation was buoyed on a wave of happiness, a shared victory that transcended divisions between cricket and football fans. They danced, they celebrated, they reveled in the unprecedented triumph as if they had clinched the World Cup itself. It was the first time their nation had won a major international trophy, and the joy was infectious.

Kabir stood on the pitch, his gaze locked onto the scoreboard. The realization that he had shouldered Bangladesh's triumphant journey through the tournament brought a lump to his throat. This was the golden reward of his toil and sweat, the Asian gold. His smile was tinged with pride and a hint of disbelief.

On the flip side, the South Korean team was shell-shocked. Kabir's final goal had dealt the death blow to their hopes and dreams, leaving their supporters in a deafening silence. They watched as the game came to an end, their aspirations crumbling before their eyes.

Feeling a surge of adrenaline, Kabir whipped off his jersey and sprinted towards his coach, his heart full of gratitude and reverence. His teammates, brimming with joy and excitement, followed in his wake. As Kabir reached Coach Jaime, he pulled him into a hearty, victorious hug. The other players, the staff, the management all leapt onto Kabir and Jaime in a cascade of exultation. The field was a cauldron of celebration.

Yukina watched Kabir, her heart bursting with pride. "He did it," she murmured to herself, a broad smile etched on her face. As the reality of Kabir's victory sank in, she felt an irresistible urge to join him in the celebration. She didn't want to waste a single second.

"Our Son did it," Kabir's father wrapped his arms around his wife, his voice choked with emotion. They looked at their son, their eyes gleaming with a mix of disbelief and overwhelming pride. They were proud parents of a champion.

Even Khalid, observing from the stands, couldn't help but feel proud and happy. He had been a spectator of Kabir's journey from a novice player to one of the best in the world. He clapped his hands rhythmically, his approval and admiration evident in his enthusiastic applause. His friend had not just won a tournament, but the hearts of millions of people as well.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the verdict is in - we have a winner," the announcer's voice boomed over the crowd, raising a cheer from the ecstatic audience. "Kabir did not disappoint his country. With a staggering tally of 4 goals in the final match, he has brought home the Asian gold for Bangladesh!"

"Congratulations to Kabir and his team for their phenomenal victory in the AFC Asian Cup of 2023!" The words rang out, sending waves of cheer and applause rippling through the crowd.

In a sudden burst of uncontainable joy, fans from every corner of the stadium began pouring onto the pitch. Security personnel stood no chance against the flood of ecstatic supporters who, with a shared sense of thrill and pride, were bent on celebrating this historic win with their heroes. The pitch was awash with fans, their faces a mask of joy and excitement.

At the heart of this pandemonium was Kabir, the eye of the storm. Fans flocked to him, eager to share a moment of glory with the young hero. Kabir didn't push them away. Instead, he welcomed the crowd, laughing and cheering along with them, basking in their adoration. It was a night of collective joy and celebration, a moment that transcended the barriers of the stadium and spilled onto the streets.

Outside, the roads and streets encircling the stadium were teeming with Bangladeshi fans and Kabir's supporters. Jubilant cries filled the air as every Bangladeshi, whether present at the scene or afar, joined in the celebrations. The city pulsed with euphoria, an endless sea of people in a festival of victory.

As if reflecting the people's joy, fireworks ignited the night sky, showering the city in a cascade of color. It was a sight to behold, a beautiful testament to Kabir's triumph. Tonight was his night, and Bangladesh was not going to let it pass without a resounding celebration.

"I still can't believe it!" one fan was heard exclaiming to another, his voice trembling with excitement. "Our first-ever AFC Asian Cup, and Kabir, he's made us proud!"

"He's done it!" a group of fans chanted, their voices carrying the infectious joy that had gripped the stadium. "He's brought us glory! Kabir, you legend!"

Everywhere, the jubilant faces of the fans mirrored their immense pride and joy. They hugged each other, cried, and laughed, their emotions running high. It was a night etched in the hearts of millions of Bangladeshi fans, a night of dreams becoming reality.

And it wasn't just in Bangladesh. Fans from all over the world were celebrating this unexpected victory. Social media was awash with congratulatory messages and images of celebrations, connecting the joyous energy across continents. This wasn't just a victory for a team; it was a victory for every fan who had dared to believe.

"Let's turn the spotlight to the gem of this tournament," began the commentator, his voice brimming with excitement. "Kabir's dominance has been nothing short of phenomenal. His tally of 18 goals in merely 7 matches has shattered records, left, right, and center. To put it into perspective, that's more than 2 goals scored per game. Just three goals shy of an average of 3 goals per game, a statistic that would be absurd even in a video game. This record of Kabir, I daresay, is unbreakable."

"The prodigious talent has been simply unstoppable. In these 7 games, Kabir has contributed a mind-blowing 25 goals and assists combined. This young prodigy has indeed emerged as the next big thing in the world of football."

As the celebrations began to settle, Kabir and his teammates lined up to shake hands with the Korean players. The bitterness that had brewed between the two squads over the course of the tournament had reached a point where the simple act of a handshake was a test of restraint. Yet, to uphold the spirit of sportsmanship, they exchanged forced pleasantries.

Salman bin Ibrahim Al Khalifa, the President of the Asian Football Confederation, then stepped onto the pitch to present the medals. A sense of solemnity descended on the stadium as he began the presentation ceremony. One by one, each player was called forward. When it was Kabir's turn, he was met with an enthusiastic applause.

Upon receiving his medal, the President leaned in and whispered something into Kabir's ear. "You played exceptionally well, young man. And don't fret over the referee's oversight. He won't be officiating anymore, especially after failing to give a yellow card to the Korean players today. We all have high hopes for you, Kabir."

Kabir responded with a nod and a gracious smile. "Thank you, sir." He moved on after a friendly pat on his shoulder from the President.

The Korean players were next in line to receive their silver medals. Their faces were a grim tableau of disappointment, underlined by their refusal to wear their medals. They simply took the medals and walked away, heads bowed low in a quiet acceptance of defeat.

In spite of their victory, Bangladesh's collective performance paled in comparison to Kabir's individual brilliance. While they had triumphed, it was mainly because Kabir had carried the team on his shoulders, making him indisputably the best player of the tournament. On the other hand, the South Korean team had displayed a more cohesive and rounded performance. This dichotomy in the nature of performance led to South Korea being bestowed with the team of the tournament award, acknowledging their unified and consistent play.

The best Goalkeeper award eluded Bangladesh, reflecting the occasional lapses in their defense. Even though Bangladesh had won, their performance was not an all-round one. The Fair Play Award was granted to the Japanese team, who had displayed an admirable level of sportsmanship throughout the tournament, with the least number of fouls committed.

However, the euphoria of victory overshadowed these minor shortcomings. A sense of satisfaction pervaded among Kabir and his teammates. They had, after all, done what no one had thought possible.

"Now, ladies and gentlemen, we arrive at the moment we've all been waiting for," the announcer's voice boomed across the stadium. Kabir and his squad eagerly waited for the final act of the evening - the awarding of the AFC Asian Cup trophy.

President Salman bin Ibrahim Al Khalifa personally held the trophy, its gleam reflecting the hundreds of flashlights dotting the stadium. Kabir stood in the center, a sense of anticipation coursing through his veins. He glanced to his right, then to his left, at his team who had toiled alongside him on this journey. They were all awaiting the countdown, a moment that would etch itself into their hearts forever.

"And now, the countdown begins…3…2…1… Boom!" The president's voice rang out, and the stadium erupted in euphoric cheers.

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