It was an eventful afternoon in the Jalan Besar Stadium. A school final that was heavily anticipated by thousands of students. The students of Punggol Town Secondary School and Pasir Ris Eastview were departing off their buses one after another.

The stadium was not full but it was packed as well. Students of each school made their way to their seats dressed in their school colours while holding megaphones to show their support for their fellow peers. A truly anticipated match that needed zero errors from either side no matter what.

Thirteen-year-old Koh Cheng Hao trudged into the dressing room as he sat down by his locker. Warm-ups were over and it wasn't long until kick-off. He removed his boots and his training wear and started taking in deep breaths. He tapped his fingers onto the marble seat and fidgeted.

"Nerves getting to you, bro?" 

Cheng Hao looked up. It was Darren Xang. He knew him since they were young whenever he played football in the multi-purpose hall. They happened to be on the same team during a casual match and they linked up perfectly. Talking about smart passes and speechless communication. They started meeting each other more often after that and got into the same secondary school.

Darren sat next to him, putting his hand on Cheng Hao's shoulder to ease his nerves.

"Relax ah. I'm sure you'll do fine. You've been preparing yourself every day since we qualified for the finals after all," Darren reassured as he looked back at the days leading to the match. Cheng Hao always asked him to help him practice, looking for opportunities to clean up his technique, his agility, and reactions. Even during rainy days or when the ground was muddy, it was always training, training, and more training.

Cheng Hao sighed, "Yeah, I just feel like I haven't trained enough." Darren scoffed.

"Don't be stupid lah," he said as he got up. "I know you can do it."

Those words gave Cheng Hao a boost in morale. When Darren left, he got up and went to the table and grabbed some sports tape. He started taping his wrists and fingers, ensuring that they were taped well to prevent any sort of injury that could happen. He did some more stretches and practiced his technique for a short while. In no time, the referee came in and told the team to walk out. It was going to be a hectic match for him.

The game started out fine. Both sides were playing a regular passing game, switching the play, and moving up the field for chances. But it was clear that Pasir Ris Eastview were getting the better out of the other team. A simple body feint by the midfielder was enough to break the defensive line and a brilliant pass saw Cheng Hao up against the forward on his own.

Holding his ground, he waited for him to come closer. He started to close the angle, making himself big. The forward was hesitating and when he finally started to shoot, Cheng Hao split his left leg to the side, the ball bouncing off his boot as it went out for a corner.

Darren tracked back seconds after, panting.

"Sorry!" he apologized as he gave Cheng Hao a high-five. He noticed that Cheng Hao only nodded. He was visibly angry at how sloppy the defending was but held his words. "You're not going to say anything?" Darren asked. Cheng Hao only shook his head. Darren looked with concern and decided to take up the instructions by himself.

"Come on guys! Focus! Be sharp! Don't commit too much, alright?!" he yelled. Gesturing his teammates to stand at certain positions and such. The corner was whipped in with great pace and neither side was able to really get a connection to it. Cheng Hao came rushing out, taking a great leap to claim the ball, but no one was moving up the pitch for it.

Darren saw this and decided to do it on his own. He ran out of the box, signalling for the ball. Cheng Hao saw this and threw it to him. The ball had pace on it, but Darren was able to control it with his knee, let it set down and started dribbling. He pointed to his teammates where he wanted them to be and sent in a cross to the right side of the pitch. 

By half-time, there was no goals. The deadlock had yet to be broken.

And it stayed that way until injury time.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Cheng Hao was having a spectacular game. There was a free-kick but he wasn't able to shout at his teammates to urge them to block the ball properly. He could only point at where they wanted them to be. The referee was urging for them to finish their set-up. Annoyed, Cheng Hao could only get ready for the shot.

The forward curled it to the opposite side of where Cheng Hao was standing. It looked destined for the goal but he took a big step to his left, stepped forward and exploded into the air. He tipped the ball over the bar and rolled and got up. Darren started shouting at his teammates to get ready.

"Arshad! Left post! Left post!" he yelled twice, "Cover your man! Who are you marking, Joshua? Focus! One more minute only!"

The box was in total chaos. The cross was whipped in but seemed to be a bit too much. It was claimed at the edge of the box. The midfielder got control of it and the defense was in shambles.

"Don't overcommit!" yelled Darren. "Composed! I said composed!" 

The midfielder was itching towards the eighteen. Cheng Hao's vision was blocked. He was moving way out of position to see the ball. It was only a group of six defenders but he felt like he was swimming through a crowd.

"On guard! Keep your eyes peeled!" Darren yelled as he tried to take things into his own hands. The midfielder let the ball go, a powerful shot. Darren tried to slide tackle it away, but it only deflected off his foot. The defenders trying to block it, but it went under one of their legs. Cheng Hao was in no man's land. He was way off-centered the the deflection caught him off guard. He pivoted his right foot and did a cross step. But even with his powerful acceleration, his hand was just short of the ball.

In the rainy evening. A scenery so beautiful, akin to the lovely nights of Champions League football, ended in a defeat for Cheng Hao and the school. The crowd went wild, cheers were as loud as those in the National Stadium. The midfielder ran towards his school's students and celebrated hard. Fist pumps in the air, yelling, cheering, tears of joy.

Cheng Hao couldn't get up. The referee blew the whistle once the ball went in. The moment Cheng Hao saw the ball go over the line, he flopped from his side to face flat on the ground. He put his arms under his face, trying to prevent himself from crying. His teammates were exasperated. Defeated. Some fell to the ground. Some sat down in shame. Some just stood up, looking at the sky. The captain pulling up his shirt to hide his head. The striker staring at the goal net. Darren, who was on the ground after his attempted tackle, lay down on the ground as he faced the night sky.

Cheng Hao was distraught. Darren got up and trudged to him. He had nothing but apology and sympathy for him. He knew he should've done better, and Cheng Hao felt the same about himself. He helped Cheng Hao up, the goalkeeper in tears. Inconsolable. As the match officials were preparing the trophy presentation, the team looked at their peers, as if to apologize to them for the disappointment. Some were genuine, but some had hatred in their mouths after what transpired at the end.

The rain only got heavier as the losing team trudged back into the dressing room.

The first thing that happened when they came back in, was one of the forwards throwing his shinpads onto the ground.

"What was that at the end?!" he yelled. "We had five- no, six people on him! How the hell did that go in?!" he screamed. "How do you call yourselves defenders?!"

"Are you seriously blaming it on us?" one of them stood up and went straight to his face. "That was ours to win! But you kept missing easy chances. We nearly scored before that free-kick, but you missed! You were in front of goal and you're blaming us?!"

"At least I didn't cause us to concede. You were running around like a headless chicken at that last moment!"

"Then come and help us! You were standing at the half-way line for what? What happened to defending as a team? Do you think you're all that, Heng?" 

The argument persisted. The coach could only watch his players argue, hands were thrown, things were thrown around like grenades. Nothing good was coming out.

"Don't blame us, blame Cheng! I mean, what was he doing being so off-centered?!" Another defender yelled, passing the buck onto Cheng Hao whose head was laying low. He raised it when he heard his name, his eyes were red and he didn't know why he was being blamed.

"Right? Hey, Cheng. What was that?! You cost us the game!"

"You didn't even speak at all today, do you think we can read minds? Now look what happened. We lost because of you!"

"Don't you think this is too much?!" Darren got up. "How can you blame him, he saved our asses the entire time when we couldn't defend. Give him a break!"

"Shut up!" the other defender yelled back. "You're an LCS academy player right? Then play like one! You also can't defend. Your friend cannot keep properly. That's why you guys are friends right?"

"Stop crossing the line, Joshua."

Cheng Hao's head was ringing. The dressing room was in disarray. No one was cooperating. Everyone was fighting, arguing, blaming everyone but themselves. The bus ride back to school was eerie. Quiet. No one spoke a word. No one's phones were turned on. The words of blame and shame were replaying in Cheng Hao's mind. His head was ringing.

Ringing.

Ringing.

Ringing.

Press

Cheng Hao woke up from his sleep. Sweating buckets despite his air-conditioned room. It was his third year of secondary school. A year and a half since that fateful match. He stared at his wall. Reluctant to get up.

A year and a half since that match.

A year and a half since he decided to completely shut himself out from his peers.

What he does didn't matter anymore. After all, everyone forgets the hundred saves you make but remembers that one goal you let in.