As we paraded back towards the center circle, I addressed the members with a raspy voice akin to an old geezer with a history of chain-smoking, “Guys, look at them. They have already given up. Who’s down to join me in scoring more? Let us break some records today!”
“Dang, were you always this ruthless?” questioned Rick, his expression a mix of eagerness and bewilderment, while Oscar whimpered, “Are you still hungry for more?” before glancing at the Rangers defenders with pity. Responding with a savage grin, I clarified, “I was thinking of helping everyone get on the scoresheet” before turning to Rick with a teasing smirk plastered across my face and asking, “Did you say something, my hat-trick-less partner?”, in a sing-song voice.
Back at our spots and poised to resume the match, I noticed the opposing players collectively shrinking back. Whipping my head around, I flashed my teeth as I witnessed the majority of my comrades sporting a feral smile, seemingly out for blood. The rest of the contest felt blurred as we unleashed a flurry of attacks, restricting them to their penalty area. Our unabated barrage on their goal persisted until the referee blew his whistle, with even our defense participating in the onslaught during the final minutes.
*Fweeep-Fweeeeeeeeeep*
Sensing an eerie quietness at the final whistle, I glanced at the spectators, only to discover them gawking at the scoreboard. Shifting my attention to it, I was floored upon reading it and wondered, ‘Holy Shit! Did we really score 4 more after my hat trick?’, as I gaped at the astonishing scoreline - 8:0.
Ludicrous though it may seem, I had overlooked our score, thoroughly relishing in some aggressive football. Not to mention the unadulterated look of horror they exhibited while cowering away every time the ball was in my possession stroked my damaged ego more than I’d care to admit. The keeper diving reflexively before I even attempted a shot was the cherry on top, as I lost myself while toying with them.
Broken out of my musings by the sound of sniffling, I turned to notice the lanky boy wiping away his tears while his partner, the number 9 consoled him. Staring at the not-so-towering child now, I felt my stomach drop as I scanned the pitch to discover nearly every member of Rangers FC teary-eyed or sobbing.
All of my enthusiasm drained away as I became cognizant of my actions today, realizing that I’d just thrashed a group of children, here to enjoy football in the company of their mates on a Sunday, even savoring their fright. I, despite being a former professional footballer, had presented them with possibly the worst experience regarding football.
In spite of that though, I didn’t notice any feelings of remorse or guilt in my mind, rather perceiving a scorching desire to challenge youngsters sincere towards the sport, ready to expend their all on the pitch. Seeing no reason to reprimand myself as my competitiveness and overzealousness were the prime reasons for being able to stick with grueling training regimens in the past even while seeing little to no improvement, I merely concluded, 'I have to accelerate my plans.’
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After returning to our club facility, James gathered the team to deliver his closing remarks, “I have no complaints about your performance today. All of you spectacularly followed my instructions. Oscar, you were brilliant as the defensive midfielder and Harry, you did an excellent job erasing their number 9. And last but certainly not the least, Nick, a hat-trick of goals and assists, a sensational performance. I regret not bringing my camera”
While almost everyone was left stunned at my frankly unreal tally, I spotted a few grimaces in between. Although I wasn’t bothered by it, Coach James seemed to have no intention of overlooking such reactions. Dropping his tone down an octave, he queried, “But, there is something outside the game that I would like to address today. Who gave the all-out attack instruction?”
Perceiving everybody’s gaze on me, I confidently raised my arm and reported, “It was me, Coach”, with the others nodding in affirmation. The response seemed to anger him further, as he, virtually growling now, demanded, “And did he force you to follow it?” startling them. With most of the kids too intimidated to respond, Rick stammered out a “No” after a bout of silence.
Scowling at the mute kids, he thundered, “Then, why do some of you look like you regret following his instructions? With your massive victory today, you are virtually guaranteed a top-of-the-table finish. Rick also scored his first hat trick today, thanks to Nick excellently judging the situation. Yet, your reactions after the match and just now seem to suggest that not all of you are happy with the results. Would someone care to explain?”, he finished, now glaring at everyone.
A pin-drop silence succeeded his outburst, stretching uncomfortably, marred only by a few gulps. Unexpectedly, it was Ivan who replied, his quiet voice reaching everyone in the silence, “We didn’t have to attack that much in the second half. We were already winning, and the huge gap caused them to cry after the game. How am I supposed to feel good? Mommy says that making others cry is bad”
A tiny smile popped up on James’ face, as he paused to ponder before asking, “I can assume most of you have watched a World Cup or a Euro final, yes?”, continuing after receiving baffled affirmations from nearly everyone, “Has anyone seen the losing team’s reaction after the match?”, he quizzed.
While a few kids nodded quietly, Ivan responded in an unconvinced voice, “Most of them cried.” James’ smile broadened as he rebutted, asking, “I see. So, does that make the winning players bad, Ivan?” and earning a shake of the head from a puzzled Ivan.
Shifting his attention back to everyone, he advised, “Football is an emotional sport, one that makes adult men cry. How many of you here have witnessed your fathers or teachers cry?” he questioned, receiving a pin-drop silence in response. Choosing to accept that as the answer, he continued, “It is that kind of sport. Never pity your opponent and never regret your choices, especially when those choices had a positive outcome for your team. Understood?”
Most of the children quietly nodded, trying to wrap their heads around the coach’s lesson, while a couple including Ivan looked befuddled. It was Ethan this time who asked, “But, coach, finals are an important match. They cried because of the huge gap, not because of losing. Shouldn’t we stop once the victory is confirmed?” wiping the grin off of James’ face.