Semedo's Sorrow

Morning in Edward VII Park was very quiet.

Inside the indoor football pitch near the south gate, Su Dong was treating the obstacle poles in front of him as defensive dummies, repeatedly practicing his shooting motions over and over again.

Either he would take a touch and then unleash a fierce shot, or he would receive the ball with his back to goal and turn to fire.

The difference was that each shot simulated a different scenario, choosing different techniques and angles.

This kind of training was tedious, but Su Dong didn't seem to mind, repeating the same motions on the pitch again and again, sweating profusely.

Nearby, in the shade at the edge of the pitch, Rony and Jose Semedo sat on the ground, watching in silence.

"Have you noticed something off about him these past few days?" Semedo suddenly asked.

"What's off?"

"Hard to say, just feels like he's been pushing himself harder than before."

"Probably got motivated," Rony guessed.

"You mean that opening match?"

Rony didn't answer, and Su Dong had never said anything, but he figured that was it.

In fact, after the opening match, Rony himself had been training harder than before.

He was already falling behind Quaresma and didn't want to fall further behind.

Working hard might not be enough to catch up, but not working hard meant he'd never catch up.

"That's a good thing, isn't it?" Rony looked deeply at Semedo, his longtime roommate who was a bit lazy. "Honestly, Jose, you should think it over too. If you keep going like this, forget the first team—you'll probably end up loaned out sooner or later."

Jose Semedo hadn't stood out in Sporting Lisbon's youth academy, which was why he'd been let go before.

And after coming back, he still didn't seem to have learned his lesson.

Hearing this, Semedo's eyes flickered with evasion, though his face put on a nonchalant smile. "A loan wouldn't be bad either. Maybe I can't get playing time here, but out there I could become a starter."

After saying that, he let out a dry laugh.

Rony acted as if he hadn't heard clearly, sighed, and stood up from the ground. "Enough talk, I still need to train. One day, I'll crush Quaresma!"

With that, he quickly dashed onto the pitch.

"Su, I'll practice with you!"

Jose Semedo lounged lazily at the edge of the pitch, watching Su Dong and Rony go head-to-head in a one-on-one duel. The smile on his face gradually faded, replaced by envy and a deep sense of sorrow.

He was born into a poor immigrant family from Cape Verde in Setúbal, playing football on the streets since childhood.

Though he wasn't tall, standing only one meter eighty-three, he had the muscle and speed of an African player, faster and stronger than his peers from a young age. Naturally, he stood out, caught the eye of some teams, and came to train at a powerhouse like Sporting Lisbon early on.

He was twelve that year.

By Sporting Lisbon's youth standards, Semedo's technique wasn't outstanding—it didn't even meet the team's requirements. The playing habits he'd developed since childhood relied on his body and speed.

That worked well in the youth teams, but if his body and speed couldn't give him an edge, he had no backup.

Sporting Lisbon wasn't blind to this problem. They'd long since designed a tailored training plan for him, but Semedo wasn't Rony. He couldn't endure that kind of monotonous, boring, and tedious training.

During the time he was let go by Sporting Lisbon, he'd once reflected deeply and resolved to turn over a new leaf.

Because he knew he carried the hopes of his entire family.

His family was counting on him to make it big, to become a professional player, even a star, to earn more money and completely change the family's fate.

That resolve got him back into Sporting Lisbon, but unfortunately, it didn't last long.

The outside world was too tempting.

There were girls who threw themselves at him just hearing the name Sporting Lisbon; journalists who were always ready to treat him to meals, drinks, and dancing, only wanting to pry some team secrets out of him; and fans who followed him around, basking in reflected glory...

Wasn't that nice?

Why train so hard?

Even just going to the old town streets to listen to street singers was more fun than training, wasn't it?

Semedo wasn't clueless.

Kids from poor families grow up fast. He understood, better than anyone.

Every time he saw Su Dong and Rony, he wanted to make up his mind and work hard with them, but every time, he couldn't hold on.

It was just too hard!

He couldn't understand how Su Dong and Rony could keep going.

Just like Su Dong and Rony couldn't understand why he couldn't.

Maybe, as Su Dong had said, the weak can never understand the strong's desire, and the strong can never understand the weak's sorrow.

Thinking this, Semedo silently stood up, didn't say a word to his friends locked in their heated duel on the pitch, hung his head, and quietly left Edward VII Park.

The two on the pitch were so focused they didn't notice.

The Portuguese Second Division is the third tier of Portuguese football, divided into three groups by region: North, Central, and South.

Sporting Portugal is in the South Group of the Portuguese Second Division, which consists of sixteen teams total.

This is a format adopted by the Portuguese Football Federation to ease the financial strain on lower-league clubs, but the South Group still faces relatively high pressure, as it includes several teams from the Madeira Islands, west of the African continent.

In the second round, Sporting Portugal hosted Loretano, a team that had taken all three points in the first round.

This club hails from the coastal city of Loulé in southern Portugal and has a long history. Backed by the financial strength of both Loulé and Faro, Loretano is one of the few professional teams in the Portuguese Second Division, aiming each season to break into the Portuguese League.

Of course, the fact that they're still in the Portuguese Second Division shows those goals haven't been met.

But as a fully professional team, their strength is far from weak.

It was the first home game of the new season, and the Sporting Portugal fans showed up in decent numbers.

The stadium, with 8,000 seats and standing room for a total capacity of 15,000, welcomed over 3,000 fans.

They filled both side stands, creating a respectable atmosphere.

Don't scoff—according to the team's stats, this attendance was already considered high.

With an average ticket price around one Euro, Sporting Portugal typically drew about 1,000 fans per match.

In other words, of the three major revenue streams for European clubs—matchday income, broadcasting fees, and commercial operations—Sporting Portugal missed out on all of them. Relying on just over a thousand Euros per game couldn't sustain a team.

That's why the club needed side ventures, like training programs or contracting training services from the government, which in turn provided financial support and subsidies, such as stadium maintenance costs.

And that's exactly why Gorba, after his assessment, suddenly valued Su Dong so highly.

If Su Dong played well and got sold to a big club, the transfer fee could easily reach five or even six figures.

For a club like Sporting Portugal, such temptation was nearly impossible to resist.

So, Su Dong was naturally included in the matchday squad.

His performances in training kept improving, and Matello spoke highly of him, but he still started on the bench for this game.

"Study your opponent carefully. I hope you'll perform well when you get on the pitch," Antonio Pereira encouraged.

Su Dong nodded silently.

Loretano kicked off first.

Before the match, Sporting Portugal's players had mocked them in the locker room for trying to climb the league every year, but from another angle, that showed the team had real quality—enough confidence and ambition to aim higher.

Sure enough, from the opening whistle, Loretano seized the initiative, playing like the home side.

Sporting Portugal, despite being at home, took a defensive stance.

Even so, Loretano frequently broke into the thirty-meter zone and even the penalty area.

That's when veteran captain Matello's value shone through. Like an anchor, he stood firm in front of Sporting Portugal's goal, barking orders to his teammates and directing the defensive line's movements.

Watching Matello command the pitch like a general, and then glancing at Antonio Pereira sitting motionless on the sidelines like a meditating monk, Su Dong finally understood why everyone believed Matello would replace Pereira.

At this third-tier level, once the defense stabilized, Loretano struggled to create real threats.

Su Dong started focusing on the opposing defense.

Both of Loretano's center-backs were slightly taller than Su Dong, with one over 1.9 meters, and both were noticeably bulkier. Watching their movement and play, Su Dong figured that trying to outmuscle them head-on would be a losing battle.

They were slow and lacked agility, so the key was to keep moving. But Sporting Portugal's striker charged in like a stubborn mule, trying to go toe-to-toe with them—and, unsurprisingly, he got battered.

Maybe it wasn't stubbornness; maybe that was his only move.

In that moment, Su Dong suddenly realized how crucial being well-rounded truly was.

"Hey, Su, why are they making you sit here?"

A familiar voice called out from behind.

Su Dong stood up from the bench and turned around to find Rony and Jose Semedo sitting in the stands behind him, grinning slyly.

"What are you two doing here?" Su Dong asked, surprised, walking over.

"Made up an excuse and got the day off," Rony said casually. "But why aren't you playing? That guy out there is way worse than you—can't even hold onto the ball."

By the end, Rony's face was full of disdain.

He ragged on Su Dong every day, but that was just friendly banter. Deep down, he knew Su Dong had improved a lot—far better than Sporting Portugal's attackers. The coach not putting Su Dong in was a waste of talent.

"The coach wants me to observe first. I'll probably come on in the second half," Su Dong replied.

"What's there to observe? Those two are stronger than you, but they're clumsy, slow, and not agile. Just play them like you play Jose."

Jose Semedo, standing nearby, frowned in annoyance.

Wait, man, what do you mean by that?

How are they anything like me?

And don't make it sound like I'm easy to deal with, alright?

Sure, I'm no match for you, but you don't have to rub it in.

"Su, go tell your coach to send you up there and crush those two."

Semedo didn't dare vent his anger at Rony, so he took out all his frustration on Loretano's two unlucky center-backs.

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