Rain slammed furiously against the football pitch, wetting the ground causing it to soften and mudden.
Players all aged in their seventeens to eighteens ran forward and backward on the pitch, mud staining their boots as if their life depended on it.
Lein farel a young man with deep brown eyes, warmed the bench sit, his blue training bib still on. He had played not even a single minute all match, from his previous restlessness now a strange calm
All game, he had repeatedly locked eyes with the coach, eyes begging for a chance but that chance never came.
Now currently in the 89th minute, both teams struggled to keep hold of the ball for long as they were determined to see themselves win this game no matter what.
Harrison, a young male with brown curly hair, swept through the field with insane precision, every touch a touch of grace, passes slicing through the midfield as tho no one was even there. Even after playing for more than an hour, he still seemed more ready than any other person on the field, causing anyone who looked at him, to just stare with their minds wide open, hearts striken with awe.
Lein stared at him, eyes blank as he reveled in just how much he hated this. How much he hated seeing them play better than him. How much he despised it with all his loathing self, however what could he do?
All his small butt could do was sit here, rather than carry him towards his dreams.
Peeeeeeeeep!
The referees blowed his whistle, hands outstretched signifying the end of the game, as both team players dropped like puppets on the floor.
Lein stood up from his place on the bench, eyes staring at the team, legs feeling energized and ready, however at this feeling energized and ready did not feel good.
The players each shook hands with each other, before making their sweaty and muddied self towards the changing room, players and staff following in behind as Lein just followed from behind. He wasn't part of them. He most likely never would!
....
A suffocating silence pressed heavy against the changing room, as the gaffer—Coach prest— a bald man with black joggers and grey jacket stood menacingly hands clasped against his back. He said nothing, causing the hearts of many around the room to hurt. Somewhere a person shifted in their sit, in another Lein simply stared.
Then the coach began:
"Today you all went towards the opposition team with not even a bit of grit:
The coach gruff voice rang out
"You guys relaxed acting as though you were playing against a Sunday league team, losing the ball constantly. There was no real grit, no real determination, just constant misjudging of the ball's trajectory and the opposition players."
He shifted his gaze towards each and every player in the changing room, his eyes lingering on each for some brief seconds, saying nothing. His eyes then fell unto Lien, shifting from him and unto Harrison which was at his side. Harrison stared with a tired expression at the gaffer, water bottle in between his legs, not saying anything.
Coach prest said nothing and turned away
"On Wednesday, get ready for harder and longer drills. No complaining or whining unless you all want even harder trainings."
With that he walked away.
The changing room didn't change much, except that the players simply began packing their things from the changing they were doing before.
Harrison still sitted at Lein side, smacked his hands against Lein shoulders, his expression seemingly holding glee.
"So how was I?.."
"Huh?"
"I said how was I? In today's game' I know I'm pretty good so you don't have have glaze me, but still did you see that skill I did on that guy. I swear to God mate, I wonder if that guy is ever going to recover from that" Harrison, added with a smile.
"Yeah I know.. I saw it, it was ...amazing"
"Haha I know right? So what you doing today? Cause you see I gotta a slight party after"
"A party?" Puzzled Lein could not help but ask.
"YEAH man, think about it. After all I did today, don't you think i deserve a little something?"
Lein simply said nothing. Harrison smiled and stood up, patting his shoulder, before walking towards the other guys.
Harrison a natural talent. A guy whose future was already sure. Could he ever reach his level? Lein could not help but think. Maybe, maybe not! Maybe he doesn't even have a place in football and only jist keeps on trying because he knows he has nothing left but it.
....
The journey home from the home loss of 2-1 was a long and uneventful one. Lein walked calmly, hands tucked inside his jacket pocket as the rain of Manchester continued to splater. Around him, cars passed, occasionally splashing some bit of dirty water at him, to which he simply said nothing about. After all what was the use?
The familiar environment of Lein's house street, soon revealed itself. Rows of semi detached houses each adorned with series of different cars. It wasn't particularly a very wealthy area nor was it poor but it was definitely wealthy enough.
At the step of his house, Lein opened the door. As he took a step into it, he was met with the familiar smell of home and care, which seemed to be printed directly into the Fibre of the house.
"Leinart?"