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THE GREATEST OF ALL TIME

Dive into a novel about the rise of a legendary sportsman. Follow Zachary Bemba on his journey to become the G.O.A.T (Greatest Of All Time) in the soccer world. He travels back to a time in his past where opportunity abounds. Access to a system capable of propelling him to greater heights is just the icing on the cake. From a nobody born in one of the poorest and most remote places on the planet, he relentlessly pursues his goal of becoming the greatest sportsman the world has ever seen. **** ---- G.O.A.T SYSTEM INITIALIZING ---- ACTIVATION SUCCESSFUL **** My Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/Mujunel_the_Mystic Book Discord Link: https://discord.gg/NK4Uaw8GRN

Mujunel_the_Mystic · Olahraga
Peringkat tidak cukup
718 Chs

A Landslide Victory

Coach Johansen substituted Paul Otterson in at the beginning of the second half. The Swede replaced Kasongo on the right-wing.

Even though the NF academy held a numerical advantage over Rosenborg's second team, the coach didn't dare replace any midfielders or defenders. He still seemed wary of Rosenborg despite being two goals ahead.

Once Otterson got on the pitch, he ran up to Zachary and said: "Zach! I need to score. I need plenty of passes from you." He was breathing hard and all sweaty despite being on the pitch for only a few minutes. He seemed very anxious to perform in that day's game.

"Relax and play your game," Zachary advised his flatmate. "The coaches only need to see that you have improved over the past year. Go to your position and wait for my passes." Zachary smiled softly.

The NF academy continued dominating the rest of the game. Even the players who had gone unnoticed in the first half started impacting the match. The left and right backs were both heavily involved in the gameplay and made several runs across the wings during the second half. They played more like wingers than defenders and sent several precise crosses into Rosenborg's box.

However, the Troll Kids had reorganized their defense over the halftime. They adjusted their formation to four defenders, four midfielders, and one striker. Eight of their men were always behind the ball, leaving no scoring opportunities for the NF academy players despite how well they played.

The score remained 2:0 until the 86th minute.

Zachary exploited a gap left by the Rosenborg players—and made another one of his signature-runs through the central midfield.

He picked a loose pass midway inside the center circle, knocked the ball past Ole, outpaced Gjermund Åsen, and was then in the clear, galloping towards Rosenborg's goal.

From there, he set off on a mazy run, dribbling towards four of the Rosenborg defenders. The defenders looked both confused and mesmerized and were unable to challenge him. He quickly found himself at the edge of the box.

When an angle opened up, he lifted his right leg to hit the ball towards the goal. However, two of the defenders jumped-up, while their counterparts slid in to block his shot. They were that afraid of him since he had already scored a long-range effort from that same spot in the first half.

Out of the corner of his eye, Zachary noticed a familiar shadow rush by towards his right. Without taking a glance—to confirm whether the shadow belonged to a teammate or an opponent, he expertly flicked the ball towards the running path of the silhouette. All the while, his eyes were glued to the defenders.

No look—pass.

"Shit!" Zachary heard Simen Wangberg, one of the defenders, swear. The Rosenborg players were—still caught up in their jumps and sliding tackles. They were already committed to blocking Zachary's shot and couldn't readjust in time to defend against the new threat.

Zachary's little pass had taken all the defenders out of the equation, leaving Paul Otterson, NF academy's winger, unmarked on the right side of the box.

The Rosenborg keeper came out to meet him, but before he could get close to the ball, the Swede, who was tumbling to the ground at the time, flicked it over him with his right foot into the net. 3:0. The NF academy was three goals ahead of the Rosenborg B team in the 87th minute.

"GOAALLLLL." Paul ran to the sidelines, shouting and pumping his legs, before doing a few backflips towards the corner flag.

Zachary's mouth twitched noticeably on seeing the high profile celebration of his flatmate. The Swede had celebrated like there was no tomorrow—like he had scored a World Cup winner.

"Go back to your half and defend. Go back...," Coach Johansen shouted from the sidelines.

The NF academy players reorganized themselves into their starting formation on hearing the Coach's instructions. But this was not before Paul came up to Zachary and said: "Nice pass. Thank you."

Zachary shrugged. "All the credit goes to you for the nice run off their defenders. We may not have scored otherwise."

"Any chance you can send me another good pass in the remaining minutes?" Paul grinned. "I would like to score another goal." He whispered.

Zachary looked at his flatmate sharply. "Do you think their midfielders will let me repeat that?" He asked. "Go back to your position and try to fall back and defend when they are attacking. The minutes after scoring are the most dangerous. We need to be careful and keep a clean sheet."

The winger returned to his position—and the match restarted soon after. The Rosenborg players seemed to have received a wake-up call after conceding. They switched their strategy from just defending and started using long balls targeted at Mushaga, their lone striker.

In the 90th minute, Ole Selnæs produced a superb long pass from deep within his half. A mistake—a miskick, from one of the defenders, gifted a chance to a lurking Mushaga. The Rosenborg striker kept his cool and let loose a right-footed shot—that was saved by Kendrick Otterson's extended fingertips. The referee blew his whistle and pointed to the corner.

"Concentrate... Concentrate," Coach Johansen shouted from the sidelines. "The match is not yet done." He sounded angry.

The NF academy players successfully defended the corner. Magnus Blakstad outjumped all the players and headed the ball away from the box after beating his mark.

Ole fired in a rebound from the edge of the box. However, Lars Togstad, one of the academy's center-backs, blocked the resulting carpet shot, sending the ball back towards the midfield.

Three players in dark blue jerseys took off at lightning speed, chasing after it. Zachary was ahead of them. Fists, arms, and legs swinging, he dashed towards the ball that was yet to land in the right-wing.

Tunnel vision set in as he focused solely on the ball that had just bounced on the ground. The cleats of his boots dug into the fine grass of Lerkendal training ground as he upped his speed and beat everyone—including the opposing defenders to the ball. His A+ agility was no joke at the academy level of soccer. Although he wasn't the fastest, he could easily beat most of his peers for pace.

The ball was mid bounce when he reached it. Zachary didn't pause to control the ball. He bent down slightly and headed it to the front without slowing down one bit.

His deft first touch with his head took him past one defender. Before long, he was sprinting away from a second, and suddenly—seemingly had miles of empty space ahead of him in the right-wing.

Gjermund Åsen, a midfielder who hadn't taken part in the corner-kick, came rushing in to close the ball down, but in so doing, came face to face with Zachary. He had his arms spread out wide like a defending basketball player. His eyes burnt with intensity and his body posture warned Zachary he would use whatever means to take him out no matter the consequences.

Zachary frowned but did not decelerate. He fed the ball past the Rosenborg boy and then left the pitch immediately, taking up the outside lane. Åsen, as most defending midfielders would, sidestepped towards Zachary, hoping to block him off or maybe even upend him.

However, his efforts were futile.

Zachary kept running wider, navigating around Åsen, speeding faster and faster towards the ball. He left the midfielder in the dust and stepped back into the pitch without slowing his pace.

Zachary's lungs screamed for simple breath as he cut diagonally into the pitch and dashed towards the box, with no defender to block his advance. He kept running though, each step mattered. Then, before he knew it, he was almost into the box.

The keeper came out to greet him. Zachary quickly glanced around him for the first time since starting his run. He noticed that the tall Magnus Blakstad had almost matched his pace with his long strides. He had just stepped into the arc of the 18-yard box.

He was at the lead of a pack of players, all chasing after Zachary.

Zachary didn't think twice and just prodded the ball into his path. Magnus coolly slotted the ball into the back of the empty net, bringing NF academy's tally to four goals for that day.

The tall man ran up to Zachary and tried to lift him in a celebratory hug after scoring. However, Zachary wriggled out of his embrace before the rest of the players could join the celebration and smother him.

**** ****

"Don't you think he's more of a winger than a midfielder?" Coach Bjørn inquired as he glanced at the celebrating academy players.

Coach Johansen cleared his throat. "He plays both positions well. We need to advise him on where to focus most of his efforts. I don't want him wasting his time training for more than one position. I think midfield suits him best since he likes passing the ball even when faced with the keeper one-on-one." The coach had a rare smile plastered on his face.

"We could just try him in the wing and see how he fares against the Rosenborg senior players next Friday," suggested Coach Bjørn. "We need to make sure he's playing in the right position at this critical stage of his career." He added.

"I'll think about it," Coach Johansen said before returning his attention to the match.

The match ended with a score of 4:0 in favor of NF academy.

**** ****

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