Goal.
The whistle blows. The field goes wild.
I’m breathing hard, sweat dripping, shorts smeared with dirt.
In frustration, I quickly start wiping off my kit.
Solace drops to his knees, laughing his arse off. “Holy shit! The rumors are true. You really do hate getting dirty! Oh man. They call you the Titan, but they really should call youCaptain Leviinstead.”
I blink, frowning. “The fuck did you just say to me? That some kind of inside joke?”
Amin jogs over, trying not to laugh. “Whoa, whoa, easy, McKingsley. Forgive Light here, he’s a little weird, but he’s harmless.”
Coach claps his hands once, breaking up the post-goal chaos. “Good run, both of you. That’s the kind of energy I want all season. Now back to drills.”
The guys scatter, still chatting shit and laughing.
Solace gives me a salute, smirking like he didn’t just lose. I’m half-tempted to wipe the smirk off his face.
I pair up with Amin to do drills so we can talk some more. He’s tall, maybe my height, with a calm energy that makes the rest of the team listen when he talks.
“Not bad, McKingsley,” he says, offering a fist bump. I tap it.
“Could’ve done better,” I mutter.
He chuckles.
“That’s what they all say after their first win.” Then his tone softens, assessing. “Not many players can keep up with Light, though. He’s fast, unpredictable. With you two on the same team, we’ll be unstoppable.”
“Guess we’ll see.”
Amin smirks. “Oh, we’ll see, alright. Coach has been praying for someone who can challenge him. Just don’t start any fights before your first game, yeah?”
“No promises.”
Practice rollson with possession drills, sprints, and small-sided scrimmages. The tempo’s higher than what I’m used to. It’s not like back in Gombe, where I could coast and still dominate. Here, I’ve got to grind for every touch.
By the time Coach calls it, my shirt’s drenched, thighs burning, lungs tight, but the adrenaline feels good.
In the locker room, the noise is all banter and music. Someone’s blastingStormzythrough a speaker.
I strip off my muddy jersey and toss it into my bag, catching my reflection in the mirror.
Not bad for day one.
Solace—Light, as everyone calls him—is talking so damn loud, and Amin’s trying to keep order, but he’s on top of one ofthe benches, reenacting our match like we didn’t all just watch it happen.
“Man, you shoulda seen him, Cap! I had him right there—” He mimes dribbling, weaving, then clutching his chest dramatically. “And then this brick wall just comes outta nowhere and shoves me off my rhythm!”
I throw my towel at him. “You tripped over your own damn feet.”
He dodges it, grinning. “Lies! You body-checked me! This ain’t rugby, fam.”
“Play better next time, innit.” I mutter, untying my boots.
“You two done yet?” Amin asks. “It’s one practice. No need to get all worked up, yeah?”
Solace points right at me. “Tell that to your new prodigy, Captain! He’s acting like we’re in a World Cup final already.”
