"It was a lucky deflection, you melt," Robertson shot back at his own teammate, a perfect example of their chaotic, brotherly energy. "Don't act like you're a tactical genius."
Leon just smiled, a quiet focus on his face. He was playing with a calm, patient style, his fingers dancing across the controller. He and Wirtz, the two quiet playmakers, were a silent, deadly combination.
They weathered the storm of their opponents' frantic, aggressive play.
Then, in the 88th minute of their virtual match, Leon, playing as himself, executed a perfect skill move, glided past a defender, and played a simple pass to Wirtz, who coolly slotted it into the bottom corner for the win.
"Okay, that was just rude," Trent grumbled, throwing his controller onto the sofa in mock disgust.
"You're too calm. It's unnerving. You need to celebrate properly, with a completely unnecessary and slightly dangerous knee-slide."
"I'm saving it for the real match," Leon said with a wink.
