Football practice was every other day, during the afternoon P.E. class. Minh wasn't ever very athletic, but he enjoyed playing sports—there was something about the rush of competition that appealed to him. But even though he enjoyed badminton, he soon discovered that he liked team sports as a way of relating to people. The camaraderie of passing the ball, being on a team—it made him feel less alone, more connected.
However, no matter how much he loved football, school was always first priority to him. Sports were something of a diversion, an away-from-home escape from the pressure of reading. Minh had kept to himself the reminder that, as much as football was fun, it would never be what he would be remembered for. What he really wanted to do was succeed at school, to prove that his worth was more than the occurrences on the playing field. But that did not mean that he was not going to play his best at the tryouts.
It was a Wednesday morning that the football tryouts took place, across the three morning sessions the school had booked. Minh had signed up for the extra training, hoping to get some extra practice. A coach had been hired for the day, and Minh was hoping to wow them with his commitment, though he knew that his true area of talent lay in the classroom.
The day passed normally. Minh arrived at school, and with that study-focused mind of his, the pressure of the tryouts lingered. He already imagined himself standing on the field, gazing at the ball, legs straining toward the goal—he just wanted to fit in.
Minh had forgotten to bring his jersey that day, which left him feeling self-conscious. He glanced at his classmates, all wearing their bright jerseys, their numbers proudly displayed. Minh wasn't one for attention, so he adjusted his plain shirt and stood with the others. The pressure wasn't so much being on the team; it was being accepted. But there was a bigger picture—school. He needed to remind himself that the troubles of the field, the chance to be involved in something, weren't larger than his schooling.
As practice began, Minh felt the familiar bite of competition. He was assigned to the wingback spot, and he went at it with determination. But regardless of how he strained, the game soon began to circle around him. The running, the drills—it was all more demanding than he had imagined. All passes were too rapid. All movements too rapid. At practice's end, Minh tried his best, but it wasn't enough.
The coach announced the names of players who were selected for the first team, and Minh's name was not called.
He remained stationary, watching others rejoice. The agony of rejection cut deeper and deeper. Minh wished at least to be given a chance to play during class matches, but now he sat on the bench.
During class, Minh tried to focus, but it was hard. His mind kept drifting towards the tryout. Exam sheets were handed out, but he couldn't focus. Math problems seemed to be written in a foreign language, and letters ran together on his notebook. He glanced around: Hải was doodling on his sheet, Ngọc Lan had filled half of the first page, but Minh's mind kept drifting towards soccer.
After school, Minh retreated to a corner of the library in an effort to clear his head. The quiet was soothing, but only briefly. The frustration of being left out tugged at him, so he picked up his textbook and tried to immerse himself in geometry problems. The equations on the page ran together before his eyes. A football player he would never be.
As the afternoon ended, Minh's mother noticed his silence. After supper, eating together, she said something he hadn't expected.
"Try taking extra classes with your homeroom teacher, why don't you?" she said. "It might help you to get ahead in school, and you've been keeping your nose to the grindstone. You're getting along all right, but it would do you no harm to work a little harder on math.".
Minh nodded. The thought of extra lessons wasn't appealing, but he knew his mother was right. He'd always felt better when he had control over something, and academics—his grades—were the only things he truly had control over.
"Okay," he said quietly. "I'll go."
Later that night, in bed, Minh considered it all. He had not made the football tryout, but that was not the end of it. Football was still something he could do, but it was not the solution to his future. His priorities had to stay on his educational aspirations.
Despite the failures of the day, he felt an odd sense of relief. He did not need to be the best football player to be able. All that mater was that he himself being able to get up and keep trying toward his future.
And with that, Minh climbed into bed, determined to make tomorrow count—both on the field and in the classroom.