**Match Day — 10:13 AM**
The sky was overcast.
The kind that makes people glance up and wonder if rain might ruin everything.
But nothing—not clouds, nerves, or past failures—was going to stop today from happening.
The Daniest High Stadium, usually quiet and cracked from neglect, now buzzed with energy. Students leaned against the chain-link fences. Teachers clustered by the entrance. Old alumni—many of whom had long given up on the school team—showed up just to see if this was *finally* the year.
For the first time in **ten years**, Daniest High stood on the brink of qualification.
One win, and they'd punch their ticket to the nationals.
**10:27 AM — Arrival**
A sleek bus pulled up to the front gate.
Wrapped in gold and navy, the **Lord's Academy** logo gleamed like royalty. Their players stepped down with quiet confidence. Sharp tracksuits. Clean boots. Polished expressions.
And behind them, their coach—**Duke Salami**, a former Super Eagles winger turned local legend.
The crowd murmured.
"That's their captain, right? Number 10?"
"Yeah. Felix Njoku. Dude scored four goals last match."
Inside the locker room, Miracle tightened his boots in silence. The buzz outside didn't matter. All that mattered was what happened on the pitch.
Coach Osahon walked in at last, looking exhausted.
"Final match," he muttered. "You all know what's at stake. No mistakes."
He began writing a 4-3-3 formation on the whiteboard.
Miracle stared at the names. His wasn't on it.
Again.
He clenched his fists but said nothing.
---
**11:00 AM — Kickoff Approaches**
The players walked out into the warm-up area.
From the stands, chants rang out:
"DANI-EST! DANI-EST!"
"WE BELIEVE! WE BELIEVE!"
But the Lord's Academy fans were louder, more organized, with drums, horns, and even a banner that read:
"Where You Belong: Second Place."
Commentators' voices echoed from the school's livestream:
"It's a historic match today, folks. Daniest High, ten years in the dark, now one win away from the nationals.
"But they're up against the giants—Lord's Academy. Let's talk stats, shall we? Daniest has never beaten them. In fact, the last time they even *scored* against Lord's was five years ago.
"Key players to watch: Frank Anyiam, Daniest's top scorer, dual-footed. And of course, Felix Njoku, Lord's Academy's #10—already being scouted by clubs in Belgium."
Miracle sat stiff on the bench, eyes locked on the field.
Behind him, Mr. Kelvin stood in the shadows of the press tent. Unnoticed. Observing.
---
**First Half — 00:00–40:00**
The referee's whistle blew.
And the game roared to life.
Daniest started with strong energy. Godson Edet and David Akpama commanded the midfield, holding their own against the usually-dominant Lord's engine room.
Frank made several smart runs, nearly connecting with a cross from Hanson Udito in the 18th minute.
"Close!" screamed the crowd.
"We're seeing a confident Daniest High here today," the commentator said. "They're pressing early, not giving Lord's time to breathe."
Miracle watched every movement, visualizing himself in each position. He tracked the shape, the balance, the missed passes. The passion burned in his chest like a fire left unlit.
In the 33rd minute, Eric cleared a dangerous through ball just inches from the box.
In the 39th, Prince pulled off a diving save that sent the Daniest crowd into a frenzy.
"He's flying today!"
---
**Minute 42 — The Incident**
Frank received the ball near the opposition box.
He turned—but a Lord's defender anticipated him, stole the ball clean, and darted downfield.
Frank's eyes flared. He chased.
And then, desperation took over.
His studs went in.
The Lord's player hit the turf hard, clutching his shin.
The referee blew his whistle—fast, loud.
Yellow card.
But that wasn't the end.
The stadium fell into murmurs as the **VAR** was activated. A small screen was brought onto the pitch.
"Wait... are they checking for a red?"
Miracle's stomach twisted.
The referee reviewed the footage. The room was tense enough to shatter.
He came back.
Held up the yellow.
Paused.
**Switched it for red.**
Gasps.
Cries.
Silence.
Frank stood there, stunned.
"Red?! I got the ball—!"
The referee waved him off.
The captain of Lord's clapped mockingly as Frank exited the pitch.
> **"Oh no. That's huge,"** the commentator said. **"Down to ten men. Just before halftime. That changes everything."**
---
**Minute 45 — The Goal**
Daniest barely had time to regroup.
They tried to hold formation, but the shock hadn't settled.
Lord's took a quick throw-in. A one-two pass.
Felix Njoku broke through on the left wing. A fake. A step-over.
He crossed low.
Their striker tapped it in with ease.
**Goal.**
0–1.
The Lord's bench erupted.
Daniest players stood frozen.
Whistles. Cheers. Drumbeats. Laughter from the away fans.
Miracle's heart sank.
---
### **Halftime — 0:1**
The whistle blew.
Daniest trudged back toward the locker room like ghosts.
Coach Osahon said nothing at first. Then he slammed his hand against the whiteboard.
"That tackle was STUPID. We had the game! Now look!"
Frank sat in the hallway outside, his face buried in his palms.
Miracle looked at the empty space where his name had never been written.
Ten years of waiting.
Forty-five minutes left.
A red card.
A goal down.
Everything was slipping away.
---
**Outside — A Watchful Eye**
From the edge of the bleachers, Mr. Kelvin closed his leather-bound book.
He murmured something under his breath.
"Achilles fell because of his heel. But it wasn't the weakness that doomed him—it was the pride."
He looked out at the Daniest bench. At the figure of Miracle, staring at the ground.
Then, for the first time in years, Kelvin Okafor felt his fingers itch for a whistle.
He wasn't just watching anymore.
He was *thinking*.