THE GREATEST OF ALL TIME
chapter-81-30041322

In NF Academy's dressing room at half-time...

Coach Johansen could not suppress his smile as he surveyed the players seated before him. They had outdone themselves through sheer focus and discipline on the pitch. Thanks to their tenacity, they were two goals ahead of VfB Stuttgart in the Riga Cup Final.

To his delight, they had maintained the air of seriousness required for a final—even after they'd returned to the dressing room with an advantage at the half-time break. All the players silently chugged down water from bottles without chattering amongst themselves, as they'd done in previous matches.

They were seemingly well aware that being in the lead before half-time did not guarantee victory in a match. Coach Johansen nodded in satisfaction. That was the right attitude for a competitive soccer game.

Nonetheless, he still felt unsure about the game plan to adopt for the second half. He wondered whether it would be better to play it safe and restructure his team—back to the 5-4-1 defense-oriented formation. He only needed to protect his lead for the next forty-five minutes—and voila, he would win the final without any risk.

His mind worked in overdrive, weighing the pros and cons of the defensive formation. And after a few moments of consideration, he decided to stick with the 4-2-3-1 formation.

Both wingers, Kasongo and Paul, had played remarkably well under the new system. They had made multiple runs, spearing into VfB Stuttgart's half on several occasions before the break. They'd even managed to keep the opposing wing-backs on tenterhooks, rendering them ineffective on the flanks. Additionally, the two defensive midfielders in the new formation had helped free up Zachary, allowing him more freedom in the midfield. He surely couldn't change their playing style after such a remarkable performance.

He cleared his throat before addressing the players who were eagerly anticipating his half-time talk. He could see it in their eyes.

"We will maintain the 4-2-3-1 system in the second half," he began, half-smiling at his players. "I do hope you remain focused throughout the entire second-half, as you did in the first."

He paused, letting his gaze settle momentarily on each player in the room before continuing. "I can't lie to you that this second-half will be easy. I expect the VfB Stuttgart players to come at you with all they've got—right from the first minute of the second half. But, you have to play the game with courage—with conviction—with purpose. You have to be steadfast and deny them any chance of a comeback."

"Play at your best and make sure you leave with no regrets after the match. That's the only way to maintain our lead—and win the final. We're just forty-five minutes away from becoming champions. Don't squander the opportunity."

Coach Johansen continued his half-time talk for the next ten minutes. He assigned a few new roles to some of the players and answered a few questions. He then expounded on the second-half game plan to keep VfB Stuttgart at bay before sending the players back to the pitch.

**** ****

In the VfB Stuttgart dressing room, the mood was more somber.

Coach Ilija Aracic didn't give his players a chance to contribute tactics this time around. Things had gone so wrong in the first half. He had no option but to change the game plan immediately.

He had to admit that treating Zachary Bemba like any other talented academy player had been a mistake on his part. He should never have agreed to the tactic of using one player to mark such a monster. The boy was already at the level of a professional in a top league. Allowing him to play in an under-18 youth tournament was 'simply' not fair to the rest of the teams.

Nonetheless, Coach Ilija Aracic had to find a way to diminish his impact on the game. Otherwise, VfB Stuttgart would end up being humiliated in a final of such a small tournament. That was 'simply' unacceptable.

"We're completely changing our tactics," he began in a somber tone while inscribing the line-up on the whiteboard. "We'll switch to a 4-4-2 diamond formation in the second half. Timo and Felix will play as the two forwards. Joshua, Kaan, Philipp, and Adrian; you'll play as the four midfielders." He paused, turning to fix his gaze on the four players.

There was some indistinct chatter after Coach Ilija named the four midfielders. The coach had already benched Sinan Gümüs, the midfielder who had made the mistake that resulted in the second goal.

"Two of you have to keep an eye on Zachary for the remainder of the match," he emphasized, ignoring the chatter. "Don't make a mistake of leaving him alone, even for a moment. You have to stop him from doing what he wants when he gets the ball. Pull his shirt or something. But, don't allow him to run through you like you're just incorporeal. Are we clear?"

"Yes, coach," the four midfielders replied in chorus.

Coach Ilija nodded. "Our defense will stay the same. However, I expect Simon and Mwene, our two wing-backs, to make overlapping runs in the wings. Most of the time, our midfielders will be busy handling Zachary. So, the responsibility of delivering crosses to our forwards will fall most heavily on you."

Coach Ilija continued giving his pep talk, explaining the new game plan for the second half. He also singled out players who had played sub-par in the first half and pointed out their mistakes without mincing words. He concluded the half-time break by giving a short speech for motivation before sending the squad out of the dressing room. He was sure that VfB Stuttgart could easily overturn NF Academy's win if they played at their best. They had done it before, and they could do it again. It all depended on the will of the players.

**** ****

Back on the pitch—

"Guys," Zachary yelled at his teammates, calling a team huddle. His focus was solely on the game—and nothing else. He was only a single step away from grabbing a sizeable amount of Juju points. He couldn't let anything get in his way. So, he decided to motivate his teammates before the second half began.

"It's now or never," he said when the others formed into a ring on their side of the pitch. "Let's play and leave with no regrets from the Riga Cup. Our main focus will be on not conceding any goal. As long as we defend well, we'll get chances to extend our lead later on in the game. Are you with me, guys?"

"Yes, captain," all the players in the circle shouted at the top of their lungs.

"Okay." Zachary nodded. "Let's go and play at our best," he added, disbanding the team huddle.

The referee and VfB Stuttgart players had already taken their positions. They seemed to be waiting for NF Academy to take theirs. The second half of the Riga Cup Finals would commence shortly.

**** ****

In the stands, Emily Anderson waited anxiously for the second half to start. Around her, some people chattered on about the first half match highlights—whereas others discussed the players involved.

"I wish Riga could buy that number-8," an old man on her left intoned, sighing.

"Zachary Bemba," a young man beside him corrected.

"Yes, yes." The old chap nodded. "We should grab him before the other teams do." He sighed once again.

[Dream on.] Emily thought, shaking her head. She'd already gotten offers from five youth teams present at the tournament. All of them were noteworthy clubs like Tottenham, VfB Stuttgart, Atalanta, and others. Nonetheless, Zachary had not given them any time for even a simple introductory meeting. Yet, some of the Riga FC fans were hoping for her client to come to their club. And that was in a league rated even below the one in Norway. Emily couldn't accept that. Not on her watch.

Her only worry was that Zachary had signed a contract with Rosenborg without consulting a lawyer. She hadn't gotten a chance to review the document since Zachary had left it back in Trondheim. However, her lawyer gut was nagging her that there might be some unfavorable clause Zachary had missed. She hoped she was wrong. Otherwise, she would be taking the team to court for duping a minor.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Ricardo Andres, the commentator, drawled, breaking her out of her contemplation. "The second half for the Riga Cup finals is about to start. Mr. Vincent, what say—you about this second half? Any predictions from you?"

"I've given up on predicting this game," Vincent McManaman, the other commentator, replied. "All the NF Academy players have elevated their game to another level in this final. I'm really surprised. Kasongo and Otterson, the wingers, looked very dangerous when they attacked via the flanks. We 'simply' can't judge their performance based on previous matches. Then, there's the phenomenal player Zachary Bemba. About him, I have no words." Emily heard him sighing audibly through the loudspeakers. "Let's just wait and see," he added.

"What about your money being on VfB Stuttgart?" Ricardo Andres jested. "Have you lost faith already?"

"Well, let's leave the money issue out of the match," Vincent McManaman stammered. "The referee is about to blow his whistle. We wouldn't want to miss the opening while discussing non-issues. Right?"

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