The Greatest of all Time-Novel

Zachary found himself cornered by two defenders as soon as he stepped into the penalty arc, a couple of meters away from ADO Den Haag's eighteen-yard box. Without panicking, he braked instantly, stopping just in front of the two center-backs. They'd positioned themselves well so that he wouldn't get through.

It was in such moments that Zachary wished for a smaller physique, like the Argentinian star Messi. If he had a smaller size, he would have wriggled his way between them without much effort. But with his tall physique, he wasn't going anywhere.

"You're not going anywhere," one of the defenders bellowed in heavily accented English.

The two of them continued trying to box him in, angling their motions to direct him away from the box. They didn't commit themselves fully to tackling the ball away. They stood their ground instead, blocking his path towards their goal.

He could tell they were good defenders right away. Most defenders that had tried to deal with him in the past would usually come in wholesale, with either flying tackles or big lunges, to win the ball. He found getting past such hasty players much easier than dealing with those who stood their ground.

Zachary kept his eye on the feet of the two defenders as he flicked the ball speedily between his feet. One of the defenders finally stuck out a leg, intending to tackle the ball. He smiled since the reaction from the defenders was what he'd been anticipating.

A face-off between a defender and a forward was like a full game of poker, but lasting only a few seconds. The first to show the intention to fold would expose his weakness, putting himself at a disadvantage.

Zachary didn't waste the opportunity. He flicked the ball past the defender—towards the left, attempting to circumvent him.

However, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a sliding tackle coming in from his left. It was well-directed towards the ball, and if he didn't react accordingly, he would lose possession.

Zachary hardened his resolve, deciding on the burdensome route. There would be very few opportunities to score in a semifinal match. So, he had to create chances for his team to the best of his ability. That involved weathering a little bit of discomfort.

Zachary swiftly stuck out his left foot between the ball and the incoming boot, just before the tackle made contact. He made sure not to plant his foot firmly on the ground to avoid a potential injury. He intended to either protect the ball or win a freekick if the defender went through with his tackle.

The defender made slight contact with his left boot, as he'd expected. Zachary jumped slightly, leaving his body at the mercy of the sliding tackle from the defender. He let the defender's momentum sweep him away before landing back down on the ground. He had controlled his fall with practiced perfection to avoid injury to his body.

"Foul," Zachary heard Coach Johansen bellowing from the sidelines while he was still on the ground.

*FWEEEEEEE*

The referee's whistle followed, confirming the foul.

"He dived," Zachary then heard the ADO Den Haag defender disputing the referee's decision as he picked himself from the ground.

Zachary did not bother arguing. He'd taken a gamble, risking his body, and come out as the winner. He'd done his best to boost his team's chances of emerging victorious in the semifinal by winning a freekick at the edge of the box. Zachary didn't bother explaining himself to an opponent. He only focused on his left foot, stretching it, and checking whether it had any damage from the challenge.

"Are you all right?" Sigrid Olsen, NF Academy's team medic, jogged to his side and asked.

"I'm okay," Zachary replied, smiling. He was sure he hadn't gotten injured after stretching his foot. However, the team medic seemed not to believe him. She eyed him with skepticism as he wriggled his foot, trying to show that he wasn't injured.

"I'm really okay," he emphasized.

"The rest of you give us some space," she yelled at the other NF Academy players who'd crowded around Zachary. The players followed her instructions and moved a few meters away.

"I'll check that leg for myself," Dr. Sigrid insisted. She placed her first aid kit on the ground before kneeling by Zachary's left foot. "Sit down," she ordered.

Zachary stole a glance at the referee and noticed that he was also waiting for the diagnosis. Referees in youth tournaments would always put the player's safety above everything else. He was sure the referee would send him to the sidelines right away if he refused the check-up.

"I'm fine, really," he repeated once again but sat down to undergo Dr. Sigrid's on-pitch diagnosis. He wasn't the least bit worried since he didn't feel any discomfort in his left foot.

"Why didn't you jump over the challenge?" Dr. Sigrid asked. In the meantime, she took off his boot before starting to apply pressure on various parts of his left foot while watching his facial expressions.

"The tackle came in fast from my blind side. I couldn't react in time." He lied.

Dr. Sigrid raised an eyebrow. "It seems like you're actually fine," she said, nodding to the referee. "But, I do hope you try to avoid the head-on challenges for the rest of the match. Your career will face a long period of stagnation if you get injured. Mark my words." She warned before picking up her kit and jogging off the pitch.

Zachary hurriedly slipped on his left boot. He looked around and noticed that the referee was in the process of showing a yellow card to Steve Van Kesteren, the defender who had made the foul.

Zachary stretched for a bit and was back on his feet in just a few seconds, ready to take the freekick. Some fans booed him, assuming he'd dived. However, Zachary didn't mind. He shut out the noises and concentrated on placing the ball on the ground, right at the edge of the box, while waiting for the referee to finish organizing the wall.

He started observing the line-up of ADO Den Haag players standing between him and the goal. His mind worked swiftly to deduce the height of the players making up the wall, the distance from goal, plus the other parameters that might affect his freekick. He wanted to make sure he would put the freekick in the back of the net.

"You had us worried, man," a voice interrupted his musings.

Zachary turned around and smiled at Kasongo, who'd sneaked behind him. "Why would you worry? Tackles are part of the game. We do our best to protect ourselves from them. We can also benefit from them like I just did." He added, pointing at the ball.

"You better go back and prepare to defend against ADO Den Haag's counterattack," he added before Kasongo could say anything more. He always made a habit of avoiding chit-chat during the middle of matches.

"Okay, and good luck." Kasongo nodded before running back towards the centerline.

*FWEEEEEEE*

The referee blew his whistle, signaling Zachary to take the freekick. He had already finished organizing the wall of ADO Den Haag players.

Zachary didn't panic since he'd been taking dozens of freekicks in the system simulator every night. He moved back a few steps following the bodily motions of the Bend-it like Beckham Juju while taking an occasional glance at the placement of the opposing goalkeeper and the other players in the box.

Zachary decided to go with his gut and take the shot right away. However, as he began jogging towards the ball, he noticed the shadows corresponding to two of the players forming the wall, jumping up and down. The Zinedine-Visual-Juju was in action once again.

Zachary changed his decision instantly, altering his angle of approach as he jogged towards the ball. He then relaxed his body as he took one final long stride towards the ball, only keeping the ankle of his left foot tense to make the shot. He then fired his knee forward and whipped his left foot at the ball, catching it on its mid-upper half.

He unleashed a daisy-cutter shot that skimmed the ground, heading towards the goal. Like a bullet train, it moved with incredible speed, flashing below the feet of the two ADO Den Haag players that had jumped. It homed into the back of the net after a deflection off the right post. The goalkeeper didn't even manage to react.

**** ****

Emily Anderson, Zachary's agent, was seated in the stands, on the bottom row, close to the pitch. She watched Zachary unleash a powerful carpet shot that found its way into the back of the net.

The fans around her seemed to be momentarily shocked, speechless after watching the goal. The stadium was abnormally quiet as Zachary ran to the touchline to celebrate his goal.

"Once again, Zachary Bemba, NF Academy's captain, breaks the stalemate—scoring from a set-piece in the 18th minute," the commentator announced in a booming voice, breaking the momentary silence in the stadium.

The fans started cheering and chanting Zachary's name. They seemed to have forgotten they'd been booing him only a few seconds earlier.

Emily was glad her client had already garnered a-great-deal of staunch fans in Riga due to his spectacular goals. His fame would translate into a profitable business after she negotiated some contracts for him later on in the year.

"The score is 1:0," the commentator continued when the loud cheering in the stadium died down. "NF Academy has managed to net the first goal in this heavily contested semifinal between the underdogs of the tournament."