Sam Smith, a young man from a humble background, had a deep passion for soccer. From a young age, he dreamed of becoming a professional player and aiming to be the best in the game. However, his hopes were crushed when his coach said he lacked the necessary skill and physicality, discouraging him from pursuing the sport further.
Despite this setback, Sam shifted his focus to his high school studies, working hard to earn good grades and gain college admission. He wanted to make his parents proud through academic success and responsible behavior. Still, the dream of a professional soccer career remained a quiet aspiration in his mind, even though he never actively chased it. In his free time, when he wasn't studying or working part-time jobs, he loved watching soccer matches on TV.
His favorite team was AC Milan, a well-known club in Italy's Serie A. He admired their legendary players and tactical skills. Sam dreamed of playing for them someday, inspired by their style and history. Watching their matches gave him hope and excitement, even though he sometimes felt disappointed when they lost important games or made costly mistakes. During those matches, he often yelled at the TV in frustration—annoyed when a player attempted an unnecessary skill move that didn't help the team or when a simple pass was missed, causing a setback.
Sam played as a defensive midfielder, a role demanding quick reflexes and good positioning. Unfortunately, coaches at various levels rejected him because of his size and unorthodox play style, which was different from that of typical defensive midfielders. He was more of a 'ball hugger,' holding onto possession too long or being overly cautious in passing, which limited his chances to impress scouts and move forward in the game he loved. Sam lacked confidence in his skills—he would hold the ball for too long or, when he did get it, he'd let it go instead of looking for better options and scanning the field.
Now in his late thirties, the fever dream of a soccer career has long since faded. Sam's focus has shifted toward the steady rhythm of his career and personal life, though he still finds a quiet comfort in the game—tuning into a match whenever the demands of work leave him with a spare hour and enough energy to watch.
The weight of the day felt physical, pressing down on his eyelids until keeping them open was a losing battle. His boss's demands still echoed in his mind, a relentless mental loop of deadlines and spreadsheets. He was coasting toward the intersection, his thoughts lost in the hum of the heater, when the world suddenly fractured. A pair of headlights swerved into his lane—blinding, erratic—and then there was only the deafening roar of twisting metal.