The game resumes. Prince Louis FC is pushing forward.
They apply intense pressure for several minutes, stealing every ball, harassing Salu and Bamchwe during the buildup. The pressing is coordinated, efficient—almost suffocating.
In the 57th minute, Moustapha intercepts a central pass and quickly launches the ball to Raoul. Raoul turns, bypasses Salu with a body feint, and then attempts a long-range shoot. Too much lift. The ball sails a good two meters over the crossbar.
> "Try again!" encourages Bakari. "It's okay! You've got to take risks!"
But with every passing minute, every off-target shot weakens Prince Louis FC's momentum. They know they can come back… but the clock is ticking.
Tesuka looks at the scoreboard. He murmurs:
> "Few minutes before the end of the match… Time to shut them down."
At that moment, the ball falls back into PvP FC's possession. The tempo shifts.
At the 58th minute
Despite the crushing scoreline, Prince Louis FC's players haven't given up. The crowd—mostly silent—hangs on every move, curious to see if the visitors' pride can fuel a comeback.
In midfield, Amor intercepts a poor clearance from Salu. He carries the ball forward, eyes locked on Petro and Kamikaze, who are closing the central lane.
> "Switch it! Switch it!" yells Bakari from the left wing, raising his arm insistently.
Amor obeys with a perfectly weighted outside-foot pass. The ball zips across to the flank. Bakari controls it on his thigh, cushions it, then beats Elysée with a stunning inside cut.
> "Damn… he got me," grumbles Elysée, spinning around.
Bakari approaches the box. He hesitates, spots Raoul making a run behind Petro, and delivers a low pass toward him. Kamikaze slightly deflects the ball, but it still reaches Raoul.
Prince Louis FC's number 10 takes a composed touch and fires a powerful shot to the near post!
Olenga dives, taut like a drawn bow, and just tips the ball with his fingertips! It smashes against the post and goes out!
> "What a save! That keeper's stopping our comeback!" Assumani hisses from the back.
Still, Prince Louis FC keeps up the pressure. Moustapha pushes forward, unusually for a defender, and signals inside the box. The corner is played quickly.
Amor steps up to take it. He whips it low to the near post… but it's too low, poorly measured. Abdoul, positioned well, clears it with the inside of his right foot.
> "Wasted corner! Focus!" shouts Raoul, frustrated.
At the 59th minute
After a poorly cleared corner from Prince Louis FC, the ball floats momentarily at the edge of the box. A half-second of hesitation—then a familiar silhouette leaps at the opportunity. Tesuka, eyes cold and focused, pounces like a predator sensing weakness.
He starts a controlled touch while analyzing the defenders' positions. Amor and Assumani quickly converge to trap him.
> "Don't just stand there! Get in!" Assumani yells, seeing Tesuka getting ready to move.
But it's too late. In a flash, Tesuka executes a flawless Spin Move (Rank A), gliding around the ball in one fluid motion. He slips between the two defenders, leaving Amor chasing and Assumani off balance.
Desperate, Assumani stretches out his leg. The contact is brutal. Tesuka crashes to the ground 23 meters from goal, just outside the left edge of the box.
> A sharp whistle!
Direct free kick.
> "Damn it, Assumani… you could've held him off…" grumbles Moustapha, rushing over.
> "Let me take it…" Tesuka calmly tells Salu, who had stepped up to the ball.
Salu nods and steps back slowly, watching with admiration the icy aura of his teammate. The entire stadium holds its breath.
The wall forms. Four Prince Louis FC players bounce on their toes, ready to jump. The keeper adjusts his position, tense.
But Tesuka isn't aiming to blast it. He's betting everything on power and curve— 'Shoot and Long Pass' stats activate.
With the power of his shoot combined with curve and precision of his long pass.
He takes five steps back. Breathes in deeply.
> "Watch closely, Olenga… It'll be beautiful," he thinks—not for anyone but himself.
He begins his run-up.
A straight, no-nonsense approach. His left foot plants firmly; his right strokes the ball with delicacy, almost tenderness. A pure contact. The impact rings out like a musical note in the stadium's hush.
The ball arcs gracefully, curling around the wall…
…then nestles surgically into the top left corner.
GOooAL FOR PvP FC! 10-2.
>Tesuka again,. What a boy !what a marvelous goal,his genius has emerged victorious again!!!
For a moment, only the wind can be heard.
Then the stadium erupts.
Screams, cheers, thunderous applause. Even some opposing fans raise their arms in admiration.
> "That free kick… it's a masterpiece," murmurs Bamchwe, mouth agape, hands on his head.
Even the referee, sworn to neutrality, flashes a faint smile as he jogs back to the center.
Salu leaps into Tesuka's arms.
> "You're the maestro today! What a strike!"
Madi, in a voice-over, added:
> "This kid is a mystery,he suprise us in every moment the ball went to him, I wonder if can even perform in the senior team.
> "I've still got more in me… don't worry," Tesuka replies calmly, eyes already on the restart.
Cameras zoom in on his face. No smile. Just an icy, almost unreal focus. It's as if the score doesn't matter to him. He's chasing an ideal—not just victory.
On the Prince Louis FC bench, some heads drop. Raoul, the opposing playmaker, clenches his fists silently.
> "Even with two ages below average… he still humiliates us," he whispers to Moustapha.
The crowd doesn't quiet down. In the stands, kids are already chanting:
> "TE-SU-KA! TE-SU-KA!"
A name turned anthem.
But to him, it was just another step in the symphony he's composing. And it wasn't the final note.
The game resumes… with no loss of intensity.
Despite the overwhelming score, Prince Louis FC hadn't folded.
Raoul's eyes, burning with determination, drove every move, every run. Moustapha, their rugged defender, pushed higher than usual, calling his teammates to press.
> "We've got nothing to lose! All in!" he shouted, clapping his hands.
Assumani, still catching his breath from the last sprint, picked up a loose ball in midfield. His touch was rough, but he managed to pass it to Amor. Amor attempted a quick one-two with Bakari down the left wing. Elysée, still tireless, tried to close the angle, but Bakari broke through for a few meters.
> "Cross it!" Raoul shouted from the penalty spot.
Bakari did. A driven cross—too close to Olenga. The PvP keeper dived and punched the ball away. But instead of clearing far, it bounced straight toward Amor, who was charging into the box.
Amor jumped. A downward header… but Kamikaze got in the way with a phenomenal leap to deflect it.
> "Damn it!" Raoul growled, frustrated.
The ball rebounded outside the box but came right back. This time, Bakari picked it up and curled a right-footed shot toward the top corner. The ball was headed in… until Olenga, like a panther, leapt again. His right hand tipped the ball wide—corner!
The stadium, even half-filled, roared at the breathtaking exchange.
Prince Louis FC won another corner. Amor stepped up again. This time he went short, hoping to catch the defense off guard.
But Petro was alert. He cleared it with a powerful kick… the ball soared high toward the center circle. Players looked up.
And there was Raoul, perfectly placed, receiving the ball in the 2nd minute of added time. He controlled it on his chest. A chill ran through the crowd.
Raoul, intelligently positioned at the center, jumped to take control.
With a fluid move, he cushioned the ball with his chest, then bounced it lightly off his knee to steady it.
> "This one's mine…" he whispered, eyes locked on PvP FC's defense.
Facing him, Salu immediately stepped in, arms slightly spread, ready to hold him off. But Raoul, no longer the same player as at kickoff, looked possessed by a calm fury. He performed a lightning-fast double tap, moving the ball from one foot to the other, then executed a perfect Step Over, Tesuka-style.
Salu was caught flat-footed.
> "Hold on, Salu!" Bamchwe yelled, rushing back in desperation.
But Raoul was already through. He read the game at lightning speed, charging down the left-center lane, where Petro waited, ready to intercept the momentum of Prince Louis FC. Petro raised his hand, signaling for an offside… but no flag. Too late. Raoul exploded forward, his feet almost gliding over the grass.
> "I got him!" shouted Petro, closing the gap.
Raoul slowed down briefly, faked a cut to the right, then at the last moment executed a sharp cut to the left. Petro slid in a desperate attempt to block....save it .
Uurgh!, Frustrated Raoul
The sun was gently setting over the stadium, casting golden hues on the worn-out grass. The tension was still palpable despite the wide score gap. Prince Louis FC, far from giving up, earned a corner kick in the following minute. Their captain, Amor, carefully placed the ball on the corner arc, his face drenched in sweat, legs heavy—but his gaze remained determined.
Madi, the commentator, picked up again from the stands:
> "Come on, one last burst of pride maybe… The Prince Louis boys want to finish with honor, and they're absolutely right!"
Inside the penalty area, chaos reigned. Kamikaze and Petro took their positions at the heart of PvP FC's defense, while Elysée kept a close eye on Bakari, the ever-active winger who hadn't stopped running all match.
> "Watch Bakari!" Olenga shouted from his goal, gloves raised.
Amor took a few steps back and whipped in a tight cross to the near post. The ball rocketed like a missile. Elysée tried to beat Bakari to it, but the left winger exploded forward like lightning, his timing flawless. He soared above the defender and grazed the ball with his head. The deflection was subtle—pinpoint.
> Smack!
The ball hit the right post and nestled into the side netting.
GOAL FOR PRINCE LOUIS FC! 11–4.
The stadium, though heavily in favor of PvP FC, erupted into thunderous applause. For even in defeat, audacity and effort deserved respect.
Bakari, breathless, dropped to his knees, arms raised to the sky.
> "We fought till the end…" he whispered, exhausted.
Amor ran to him and lifted him up with one arm:
> "You showed them we had heart, brother."
On the sideline, the Prince Louis FC coach clapped his hands, proud nonetheless:
> "Well done, boys! We never gave up!"
The referee checked his watch. Barely two minutes of play remained.
On the other side, Tesuka stood at midfield, silently observing the scene. His breath was labored, his legs trembling with fatigue. He had given everything. The crowd chanted his name.
> "TE-SU-KA! TE-SU-KA!"
Madi added in a voiceover:
> "This kid is a mystery... Three assists, six goals, a free-kick goal,a corner goal,penalty goal, solo goals, and involved in nearly every PvP FC move. A born playmaker."
Play resumed, but it was clear nothing would change. Prince Louis FC had no energy left for one last push. PvP FC calmly kept possession.
The referee brought the whistle to his lips and set everyone free.
Fruuuut!!!!
>Final whistle ,say madi
FULL-TIME. Final score: PvP FC 11 – 4 Prince Louis FC.
A wave of applause rose from the crowd. Parents, students, former players—everyone stood to salute both teams.
The players embraced, exchanged handshakes, smiles, and hugs, despite the sweat, the pain, and the cramps.
Tesuka, in the center of the field, placed his hands on his knees. Then, slowly, he dropped to them, eyes lifted to the sky, breath heavy… but with a genuine smile.
> "This is only the beginning…" he murmured softly.
Behind him, Abdoul—his partner in crime for the day—reached out his hand.
> "You were a beast out there, brother."
Tesuka shook his hand, stood up with difficulty, but stood tall—like a true captain. In the stands, phones flashed to capture the moment.
Madi concluded with emotion:
> "A page in the history of school football has just been written before our eyes. Thank you PvP FC. Thank you Prince Louis FC. And thank you to this kid—Tesuka…"
This time again,the U9's teams have proposed better match than U13's teams who's also played an enjoying 's game with seven goals out of twenty attempt.
>"I wish a good afternoon to everyone here and those who aren't. See you next Sunday for another one, and I hope the junior teams will offer us another treat. See you later, your dearly beloved commentator, Madi."
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