Rio, Brazil.
Sweat dripping into my eyes, rain pouring down, the small crowd cheering loudly, part of which being my mother, the muddy grass alone a testament to the work being done.
"Dane, Lay it on!", I bellowed running slightly closer to him.
Receiving the ball on the inside of my stronger right foot before quickly shifting it to the back of my left, dinking the ball in between the legs of my marker and setting myself free.
My name is Johannes Black, the creator in this team. I've been playing football since the tender age of seven and have loved the sport since, I orchestrate most of the teams attacks but today's game was rather difficult.
We were playing a heated match between another club and the score was 2-2 at the 89th minute mark.
I bolted down the right, the defender grabbing my black and white shirt in an effort to pull me back while another came flying in with a tackle.
However using the outside of my left foot, I skimmed past him, leaving the two players to collide with each other.
The box was filled with opposition players, marking my striker tightly.
"Johann, here!", my other winger bellowed, free at his byline. Using my left foot, I sent a ping perfect pass to him.
Putting his left leg in front of the other and raising his right leg in the air he traps the ball with that one touch and beating his oncoming marker with ease as he prepared to launch a corner into the box but I knew my partner too well.
Nazel Ginger was what we called a showman, skills and tricks was what he was most know for, even his assist today was from a rabona cross. Even though I'm considered extremely exceptional in dribbling, maybe even as good as him but no one showcases as much as him.
Nazel cuts back leaving his marker flying in the wind, he then lays a ping perfect cross to the striker.
My striker, Hugo Flint, AKA the Beast. Although he's only a year older than me at sixteen, he already stood at 191 cm with the speed and strength to boot. Not to mention his insane shooting and goal scoring and his ability with both feet is insane, almost as much as me.
There's a reason he tucked away me and Nazel's passes into the net giving us these two goals. The three of us are the trio that pushed this u-15 club further than it had ever gone before and now we're playing Sontos Fc.
The cross was high but dipped quickly too quickly, already in the air though, Hugo almost hovering above everyone in the box. He raised his dominant right leg and smashed the ball with outstanding vigour but just as I had suspected, it wouldn't nestle into the back post.
The crowd groaned as the ball strikes the bar and ricocheting to their nearby defender who cleared it right but I could get it. Pushing my legs, I set sail after the ball, the opposition defender came rushing after me.
The ball took one bounce and before it could drift out, I tapped it upwards and in, over the defender. Turning back and killing it with my first touch, defenders were rushing me left, right and centre.
"Fuck!", I muttered before cutting past the oncoming one.
Passing the ball to my midfielder, I glanced up at the post and the mainly open box. Gesturing for the ball back again, the crowd's cheers increased as I got the ball back again and glanced one more time at the post.
"Go Johann", my mother's voice audible through the crowd.
Nutmegging one more defender and using the outside of my right to shoot the ball, time seemed slow, the ball spun swiftly in the air, the crowds simultaneously silenced and everyone stood watching the ball.
The keeper jumped into the air, swinging his hand to catch but he wouldn't reach it.
GOOOOAAAAALLLLL!!
The ball rocked into the top corner, the crowd's jumped in joy, I jumped into the air and let out a battle cry. "Goal!!!".
My teammates rushed over to me burying me in hugs and cheers, the final whistle blowing in the background like anyone would hear it.
Wrestling off my teammates, I rushed fans, jumping over the small gates and to my mom. I gave her a deep hug and even with my muddy, sweaty clothes, she gave me a deep hug back.
Finally I returned to the pitch went on my knees doing the sign of the cross to give thanks to the almighty.
The cheers carried on until we reached our shabby dressing room-our manager, Mr. Kefla, a usually quiet and reserved man came in screaming with us.
"Although this was merely another league game, it was a testament to our work that we brought down the reigning champions and solidify ourselves in the league!".
"Now all that's left is to win next weekend to end the season but for now", he said while bringing out a pack of cold drinks from his back, "We celebrate like kings!".
The celebrations spanned all the way till later that evening where the sky slightly darkened and the rain stopped, parents quickly came to pick up their kids but me, Nazel and Hugo would all be walking home together.
We helped clean up the dressing room but as I stored the balls away, all I could think was that goal almost reliving every moment. I kissed the dirty ball and basked in the silence before a squeaky laugh interrupted it.
"Johann is kissing a ball! He's gone crazy", Nazel said.
Although I was the youngest of the three of us, this rugrat was the shortest and the most trobulsome.
Well he did grow up with a very rich family but due to various conditions he had to stay in Brazil. His father is English and his mother was Brazilian and after a very wrecky divorce, he ended up here.
Although his English side is far more prominent than his other with curly blonde hair along with deep green eyes and pale skin, seeing him, you'd never guess he was Brazilian or even part.
It's a miracle we're even friends as he ought to not be here if not for sheer luck or the force of our friendship.
"Oh shut up Nazel! It's not my fault you don't score!".
"Huh?? I have more goals than you this season".
"Yeah but I have far more assists"., I said while towering over him.
Unlike Nazel, I was much taller than him at about 179cm, a bit skinny with light skin and curly deep black hair and light blue eyes.
"Your luck you're tall, you French bitch!", he said.
My face contorted a bit at the word, although I was part French. I didn't like thinking about it much.
"Him?? Tall?? Please", a voice said.
"Oh come on Hugo don't come and start oppressing us with your height!", Nazel replied.
Unlike the both of us, Hugo was completely Brazilian and it was obvious with his brown curly hair and lighter shaded skin and wow was he a talent, in my eyes the best talent I've ever seen.
He looked down at us with a cocky grin and said, "All these short boys, how's the weather down there??".
"Oh shut up, I'm gonna reach you eventually!", i bickered.
He shrugged before saying, "Maybe you, can't say the same for Nazel".
"Oh shut up!".
"Boys! Someone wants to see you", a voice called out.
It was the coach, in his usual white and red track suit, he had a bright beaming smile on his face as he walked over to us.
"Guess my fans are here, can't say the same for you guys", i said mockingly.
"No Johannes, it's a scout from oversees".
End of chapter 1