Todays the day. The day with a capital D. The first game of my career as manager, well assistant manager but it’s almost the same thing. We face Peking United, a team founded by a collection of supporters for a “real” football team. They have the same results as Uppsala FC, 1 win, 1 draw and 1 loss. At 15:00 we will meet at our arena, an arena I’ve yet to see mind you.

Twenty-two avatars, representations of real people will struggle to gain a result. People generally speaking, don’t work anymore and that gets boring really quick so many people aspire to succeed in the virtual world. Fame, money and purpose can be found in a reality made up of code and numbers.

I am but one of many who search for something, a place where I matter. I have lived for 22 years but this is the first time I allow myself to clash with the world and see where the chips may fall. I remember the first game of FIF I witnessed. The noise was devastating, thirty thousand people had entered the FIF domain to lay witness upon the clash. Every tackle made; every shoot taken elicited some response from the crowd. Most people might wish to be one of the players in such a game, I can understand why. For me, I found kinship with the conductors. The managers who had planned out this battle and would reap the reward for success or the disappointment for failure.

Even if I’m not in charge I still have a hand in todays game. Luciana consulted me about the starting eleven and the corners are my domain. We have only one training under our belt for my corners but it’s not impossible for Hannah to head one in. For today I suppose it would be enough to not concede a goal from a corner.

My new outfit for today, light blue jeans and a plain but nice white shirt. Luciana will carry the club jersey as a proper manager but she didn’t want to spend the Euro on one for me. Finances are tight in a club like this so I can understand where she comes from, still a bit cheap off her.

I enter VR as so many times before but this time my stomach feels strange. Almost wish I had drank some liquid courage earlier but it’s probably too late to remedy that situation. Fun fact, you can get drunk in VR but if you reach a certain threshold of shitfaced you will get disconnected and wake up in your real body. Yes, I do now this from experience.

All the players stand ready and dressed in the blue and black stripes that make up the club colours. The tension is palpable. Just as I have dreams so too does these players.

Luciana takes the lead. “Alright ladies let’s head out!” We jog for a couple minutes until we arrive at a modest facility. A pitch surrounded by wooden bleachers.

“How many people can this arena house?” I’m curious what kind of attendance we can expect.

“Maximum capacity is 1000 but we won’t have more than a 100 or 200 people watching today.” The manager declares.

That’s not too exciting, I had hope for more than that. We are a small scale div 3 team so it’s not like many people would want to spend their Sunday here but Uppsala is a city so local patriotism should be able to garner some interest.

“How much for entrance ticket?”

“20 Euro a ticket.” Ouch, no shit this team lack funds when even matchday provide such little return.

The players start stretching and run to get their bodies or avatars, whatever, into fighting shape. Eventually people start to appear outside the modest arena to take their spots on the bleachers. The other team, Peking United, show up too and conduct their own stretching.

A woman, whom I presume is their coach walks over to us.

“Hello, so we meet again Luciana.” She looks tense, just like Luciana does.

“Yes, but this time will be very different from last time.” Ok, so last time the teams faced each other our team lost.

“Hah, we’ll see about that, wont we?” Smug asshole. When we score from a corner, I’ll be sure to give her a good old smile for good measure.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

The referee is an AI construct connected to multiple feeds to have simultaneous vision of the entire pitch. Complaining about unfair treatment from the ref will yield very little returns.

There is a booth meant for players and coaches where I take a seat. Sasha comes after and takes the seat next to me. She looks about as miserable as I would expect from someone who would much rather be one of those preparing to play.

“Your time will come Sasha, I’m sure of it so try to be patient.” She nods absentmindedly, eyes following Hannah. She is the reliable centre back of our club and plays every game so Sasha probably feel a rivalry, I hope. Need to keep her motivation up so a good rivalry would do wonders for that.

“We are lucky to have Hannah, a good strong centre back. No surprise she was made vice-captain for this season.” Hehe fan that flame. It absolutely hit the spot because Sasha makes a face at my comment.

Luciana makes a speech to the players, mostly just inspirational mumbo jumbo meant to trigger them. Now the fun begins. Each team takes their positions, some jump in place to keep their bodies limber.

And there goes the whistle, the game has officially commenced. A scattering of applauds from the bleachers and Luciana yells something.

We play a 4-3-3 formation with a possession style. Control the tempo, control the ball and you dictate the game, in theory. Our opposition takes a more pragmatic approach with a 4-4-2 route-one style. They basically focus on longballs aimed at their forwards, completely bypassing the middle of the pitch. A normal tactic for lower league football because it is less dependant of technique. Our own style of play relies on intelligence and technique, made possible because of our captain Isabella. Also know as miss grumpy, she doesn’t much like that name for some reason.

Our lone forward, Chione Ahmed, a youngster of 19 years is fast but small. Worthless with her head but skilled with balls on the ground. She is impressive with her play without the ball, constantly moving and making a nuisance of herself. The opposition centre backs are having issues keeping even with her.

Time goes on without anything of significance happening. We keep the ball most of the time, producing short passes between players on our own side of the pitch. We can’t make a breakthrough at all though. Isabella have two players close to her so whenever she gets the ball, they close her down. She is necessary for any offensive we can produce so neutralizing her is a problem.

Luciana notice the problem and strive to correct it.

“Send the ball to the wingers! Pass to Amanda and Penny!”

Wingers are offensive players on the left and right side of the pitch. They are both inverted wingers which means Amanda on the left hand side is right footed and Penny on the right side is left footed. They are supposed to break into the pitch and shoot with their good foot.

The players heed the managers advice but to little success. The passes meant for our wingers are intercepted by their midfielders who immediately pass the ball long towards our goal. Their two strikers battle with our central defenders for possession. Hannah really is doing a commendable job of it; I’m not just saying that to piss off Sasha. Our other centre back, Nova, have a tougher time of it.

“Sasha, look at their striker, the number 8. She is fast and with high acceleration, a running contest with her is impossible.”

Sasha nods in agreement.

“You need to either contest her when the balls drop, use your bulk- er, your strength and size to block her off.”

That glare, need to stop calling attention to her size. “Or you move back. Fall back with the other centre back to keep their striker outside of the penalty area.”

I think I jinxed it. As I’m talking their right-back shoots the ball long and it bounces just outside our penalty area. One of their strikers pass the ball in behind Nova so their fast number 8 can get to it. It devolves into a 1v1 with their number 8 and our keeper.

Instead of shooting she keeps the ball while running straight at our goal. Hannah tries to salvage the situation with a glide tackle that sends their number 8 tumbling, hard. Ouch, that was merciless, and probably a foul too.

The referee blows her whistle and points at the penalty spot. Yep, a penalty. Fuck.

Giving up a penalty and Hannah got a yellow card. All around a bad spot to be in only 29 minutes into the game.

Luciana is furious and waves her arm about in frantic motions.

One of their midfielders, their captain is ready to take the penalty.

Sasha looks at me. “Hannah screwed up.”

“No, she didn’t, the outcome is bad but it was Nova who should have never allowed their striker that much space and time to pass.” Miserable defence.

“If Hannah hadn’t done something drastic, we would have conceded a goal. The glide tackle was pretty good, had she only managed to get the ball instead of the player.”

Sasha should probably know this stuff but if she only played for amateur teams then I guess it is what it is. Not a diamond in the rough, more like a bit of coal with the potential to become a diamond in the rough.

Their captain shoot with power in the left hand corner of the goal. Our goalkeeper doesn’t even move. The rest of the first half play out with little to show for it.

This should be interesting; I wonder how Luciana will handle this situation.