> Rot-Weiss Ahlen – One Week Later
The cold air hit Leo's face the moment he stepped out of the car. The club grounds stretched out before him—immaculate pitches, trimmed hedges, rows of cones set with military precision.
This wasn't the backyard anymore.
This wasn't FC Linden.
This was serious.
His father gave him a small nod. "We'll be in the car. Just do what you do."
Leo tightened the laces on his boots and stepped onto the turf with twenty other boys—each of them taller, faster, more muscular. Some had flashy boots and expensive gear. Leo wore his brother's old shin guards and hand-me-down cleats.
Coach Oliver Grimm strolled in with a clipboard and a no-nonsense expression.
"Welcome to Ahlen. You've got one hour to prove you belong."
The warmup was intense. Sprint drills, technical cones, passing sequences. Leo kept up, but just barely. His lungs burned. His calves screamed. He could hear one of the boys whisper, "That's the kid they brought in? Looks like he gets pushed around by the wind."
Then came the scrimmage.
Leo was placed on the "weaker" side, facing off against the academy's core players—bigger, cockier, faster. He started cautiously, barely touching the ball in the first few minutes. Every time he tried to make a run, someone blocked him off. Every time he called for the ball, it went the other way.
Doubt crept in like fog.
Then it happened.
A loose pass rolled through midfield. No one sprinted. No one expected it to lead to anything.
Leo saw it before anyone else.
He lunged forward, got to the ball first, slipped past a defender with a silky feint, and slid a perfect through-ball between two defenders to the striker, who buried it into the bottom corner.
Everything stopped.
The silence after the goal was louder than the shout.
Coach Grimm looked up from his clipboard for the first time.
Leo didn't celebrate. He jogged back, quiet, head down. But something inside had shifted.
Fifteen minutes later, he broke free again. This time he didn't pass. He stepped around the keeper and slotted the ball in himself.
The whispers from earlier turned to stares.
By the end of the trial, Leo had racked up two assists, one