The Greatest of all Time

"I got the ball... I got the ball," Christoffer Aasbak groaned, picking himself up from the ground and running towards the referee.

"You didn't get the ball," said the referee, a big tall bald fellow, smiling softly. He withdrew a red card from one of his shirt pockets and showed it to the Rosenborg defender.

"Ref, that isn't fair," Christopher said, but his voice somehow subdued. "He surely dived." He shook his head.

"I was right behind you. So, I'm very sure my decision is correct." The referee emphasized. "You should have thought about the consequences before making a last-man foul." He pointed towards the bench.

Zachary ignored the bickering of the referee and the defender. He picked up the ball and moved towards the penalty spot. ?rjan B?rmark, the NF academy only striker, came up to him and asked to take the penalty. However, Zachary refused and held the ball firmly. He wouldn't trust anyone else with a spot-kick that he had worked so hard to earn. If NF academy didn't acquire a goal from his effort, Zachary was sure to face Coach Johansen's wrath.

"Off you go, young fella," Zachary heard the referee instructing Christopher. "We have a game to play. You need to leave the pitch."

"The rest of you out of the box," the referee hollered. "Keeper, head back to your goal." He ordered.

In a matter of seconds, the referee had finished organizing all the players outside of Rosenborg's 18-yard box.

The only people left within the box were Zachary, standing with the ball, on the penalty spot—and Even Barli, Rosenborg's goalkeeper, in between the goalposts.

Zachary shut out all outside disturbances.

He ran his hand through the turf to get any clumps out of the way. He then placed the ball on the penalty marker, positioning it as high as possible on the grass to give himself a good chance of striking it clean. He wanted to ensure that no other environmental factor affected his shot.

Zachary took a few steps back after noticing that the referee was already in position and about to blow the whistle. He continued muting out everything else and only focused on the penalty kick.

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Meanwhile, he didn't forget to stare down the keeper who was jumping around, waving his arms, and acting confidently on his line. Zachary smirked—just a small pouting of the lips, a narrowing of the eyes, and a tilting of the head. He was as calm as a well of stars and wasn't intimidated by the keeper in any way.

*FWEEEEEEE*

The referee blew the whistle, signaling for Zachary to take the penalty.

Zachary ran slowly towards the ball before jumping high and placing his left foot next to the ball. All the while, he kept his sight fixed on the ball without looking at the goalkeeper. He then kicked the ball underneath—with the inside of his right foot, just a small nudge of moderate power, for elevation.

Zachary showed his unique vision and gently flicked the ball to the opposite side of where the keeper had dived. In the 22nd minute, the NF academy had scored the first goal of the match. 1:0. Unexpectedly, Rosenborg's second team was trailing.

Hope bloomed inside Zachary as he celebrated the goal with the rest of his teammates. With Rosenborg a man down, he could finally see a possibility of the NF academy winning the game.

"High pressing... high pressing formation for the rest of the half," Zachary heard coach Johansen yelling from the sidelines.

The NF academy players arrayed themselves in a 3-4-3 formation on hearing Coach Johansen's instructions. ?yvind Alseth and Martin Lundal, the right and left-backs, moved up the pitch, towards the midfield. Kasongo and Kim, the wingers, advanced further towards the opponent's box to support ?rjan in striking. That was the only way they could pressure the opponent's defense on the other side of the pitch.

High pressing tactics required Zachary and his teammates to hungrily press the opponents in their half and win back possession as soon as possible whenever they lost the ball. They had to stop Rosenborg's passing within their half. Only then could they nip attacks in the bud and dictate gameplay.

Zachary was not surprised by Coach Johansen's change of tactics. The NF academy could capitalize on their numerical advantage and constantly threaten the Rosenborg goal if they became bold enough to attack more often. They had to act before the Rosenborg coaches reacted to Christopher's red card and reorganized their formations.

For the next few minutes, Zachary upped his game. He didn't make any more long runs but just started supplying his teammates with passes to dominate gameplay.

He conquered the midfield and became the link between defense and attack. He was always in a position to receive and pass the ball before the Rosenborg midfielders could react to his plays. With two more forwards in front of him, Zachary had more options when on the ball. Occasionally, he would send in deadly through balls to the three forwards.

In the 38th minute, Zachary chipped the ball over Rosenborg's defense after making a yard for himself in the midfield. Kasongo picked up the pass in the right-wing and sent the ball into the penalty area. ?rjan B?rmark jumped high to meet the resultant cross and planted a header from inside the box. However, the striker's effort smashed off the right post. Rosenborg's second team had just survived a second goal.

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"Zachary is getting better by the day," Coach Bj?rn Peters commented. "I now get why the Rosenborg officials place so much importance on him."

Coach Johansen was silent for a moment, then nodded. "He sure is talented. But his habit of deviating from the game plan will cause him problems someday."

"But he did score." Coach Bj?rn smiled. "There was no one else who could have exploited the gaps in the wings as well as he did. His pace and dribbling skills have improved over the past year."

"That's the only reason he's off the hook. If he'd lost the ball along the way, the gap left by him in the midfield would have caused us a lot of trouble." Coach Johansen sounded casual.

The two coaches were standing on the sidelines watching the game. NF academy was dictating the pace of the match with their numerical advantage.

Zachary had just gotten to a rebound, from a corner ball, at the edge of the box. He smashed the ball towards the right side of the goal, beating Even Barli, and scoring the second goal. It was not yet the second half, but Rosenborg was surprisingly already 2:0 down. The academy coaches were under no pressure and conversing at a leisurely pace.

"Don't you think that it's a waste to leave Zachary behind for the Riga Cup?" Coach Bj?rn inquired, his tone dubious. "With him, we have a real chance of winning for the first time. That could attract a lot more talented students to the academy."

"I know that." Coach Johansen nodded. "I've seen his free-kicks during training. If he perfects his set-pieces, we could threaten the giant academies during the Riga Cup. However, I need to convince that old man before the Rosenborg officials allow us to utilize him in the competition." Coach Johansen sighed, pulling at his red beard.

"Why is that?"

"The sporting director of Rosenborg doesn't want Zachary playing out of the country for the meantime," Coach Johansen replied. "They're afraid that other clubs in Europe will poach him before he even gets to play for Rosenborg. Only Mr. Stein can permit him to play in the cup since he oversees all of Zachary's affairs here in Norway."

Coach Bj?rn frowned. "That's a challenge. You don't seem to get along with Mr. Stein. Will he allow it?"

Coach Johansen remained silent. He was focused on the match at that juncture. Zachary had just sent in a fine through ball towards the Rosenborg box, catching their center-backs unaware. Kim Riksvold collected the ball at the edge of the box—and released a tremendous shot towards the bottom right corner of the goal. However, Rosenborg's goalkeeper anticipated the attempt and made a brilliant save.

"Don't worry," Coach Johansen intoned after watching the game action. "I'll find a way for him to join us. Just register him as part of the team partaking in the Riga Cup. Leave the rest to me."

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