On Saturday afternoon, an interschool league match was underway on Baken Academy's soccer field.
Since both participating teams were from Almere, the match drew numerous local fans, who packed tightly around the field despite its lack of stands.
The two teams were the home side, Baken Academy, and the established powerhouse Omnibus.
Baken Academy was a prestigious private school in Almere, but sports were not its strong suit. It was only after the rise of the city's new force, Almere Club, that Baken Academy began comprehensive cooperation with its youth program, relying on Almere's training system to strengthen its school team.
But Almere had only risen to prominence less than seven years ago. Even with its youth program cooperating with Ajax, it had yet to truly mature. Omnibus, on the other hand, was an established academy with a consistently powerful school team. In this match, they had deliberately focused on marking Baken Academy's midfielder, Henk Dimer.
As the brightest hope of the Almere Youth Team, Henk Dimer was hailed as the first player with a real chance of entering Ajax's Youth Training Camp. His ability stood head and shoulders above the rest of Almere's players, and his influence on the field was obvious.
But under Omnibus's intense marking, with his teammates providing too little support, he was left scrambling on all sides and trapped in the awkward position of being unable to accomplish anything alone. It was difficult for him to make an impact.
Instead, Omnibus's left flank was extremely active. They tore open Baken Academy's defense again and again, and midway through the first half, they quickly exploited the speed of a left-sided player. After bursting through the defense, he sent in a cross. The tall center forward in the box quickly followed up, leaped powerfully in front of the goal, and scored a close-range header.
After conceding, Baken Academy became disorganized. Henk Dimer in particular grew somewhat impatient, making frequent mistakes and repeatedly allowing Omnibus to seize opportunities for counterattacks.
The first half eventually ended with Omnibus leading by one goal.
The Baken Academy players walked off the field one after another, all looking furious. Clearly, they were deeply dissatisfied with the first-half result.
As a rookie making the matchday squad for the first time, Yang Yang had mentally prepared himself not to play. Still, he had been following the flow of the match throughout, especially the two players on the opponent's left flank.
Omnibus played in a 4-4-2 Formation. Their tactics were fairly simple. Once the ball reached the front, they generally moved it from the center out to the left, using the left midfielder's speed to charge behind the defense and deliver crosses.
Baken Academy's problem was that their starting right back, Nick, was injured and unavailable. His replacement was not good enough and had lost his nerve during the match, failing to perform at his usual level. That was why Omnibus had been able to seize the opportunity, attacking relentlessly and creating threat after threat.
Almere's head coach, John Rep, had also attended the match in person, but he mostly stood on the sidelines. The person directing things was still Assistant Coach Dick Van Pul. He seemed to have recognized the problem as well. During halftime, he called all the players over and reorganized the defense on the right.
From beginning to end, he had never considered making a substitution.
"Why did you want to come watch this match?"
Among the fans watching from the sidelines, Trus Opamer asked the Dutch Middle-aged Man beside her in puzzlement.
He had deliberately stayed away from soccer for nearly half a year. During that time, he had not watched even a single match. Yet what surprised Trus was that, six months later, the first match he watched was an amateur interschool game—about as amateur as they came.
Why?
The Dutch Middle-aged Man continued staring expressionlessly toward the home team's technical area in the distance. Van Pul had called everyone over, and John Rep was helping him formulate a plan behind him. It seemed that even this old friend could no longer sit still.
Trus had long grown accustomed to her boyfriend's attitude. She rolled her eyes, then turned her head away.
Three Chinese people stood beside her. From what the young girl had said, Trus knew they were the family of the Chinese boy who trained in the skateboarding area. They had come specifically to cheer him on, but the boy had remained seated on the bench throughout.
Judging from the current situation, he probably would not get on the field.
The starting players could not even hold the line. Bringing on a player whose fundamentals and ability were both weaker would only make things worse.
But just then, a sudden flash of insight crossed Trus's mind. Could it be him?
"Did you come to this match specifically for him?" Trus asked in surprise.
The Dutch Middle-aged Man neither admitted nor denied it. "I'm concerned about our bet."
But the answer was far too perfunctory. Trus did not believe him. If anything, she became even more curious.
What exactly was so special about this Chinese boy that he was worth making a special trip to watch?
"You're definitely going to be disappointed. He probably won't get on the field today." Trus shook her head.
Unexpectedly, the Dutch Middle-aged Man still replied blandly, "The match isn't over yet. Who knows?"
Trus rolled her eyes again, helplessly, but she felt somewhat pleased inside.
He had finally started paying attention.
The second half began.
Omnibus continued with the same strategy as in the first half, focusing on marking Henk Dimer in midfield and relentlessly attacking Baken Academy's right flank on the counter. They were practically rubbing salt in the wound.
John Rep and Dick Van Pul both felt helpless about it, but there was nothing they could do.
Their weak right flank had run straight into the muzzle of the opponent's powerful left flank. It would have been strange if Omnibus did not know how to take advantage of that.
"They've clearly studied us inside out." Dick Van Pul shook his head in frustration.
Although this was only a youth team in an interschool match that attracted little attention, he was still coaching independently and naturally did not want to lose.
But when he looked at the situation on the field and then at his substitutes' bench, who else could he trust?
Just as he was drowning in frustration, an Omnibus player intercepted the ball in midfield. Henk Dimer failed to pass it out in time, and after losing possession, he did not immediately press to win it back. The opponent carried the ball forward to launch a counterattack, then sent it to the left once again.
What happened next was practically a repeat of the goal conceded in the first half. Omnibus crossed from the left, and the tall center forward in the box won the first ball and headed toward goal. This time, however, his header struck a defender. The rebound fell to an opposing forward, who pounced on it and scored.
Two-nil. Baken Academy was finished.
Although he was not playing, it was his first time sitting on the substitutes' bench, so Yang Yang naturally hoped the team would get lucky.
Maybe if the team won, the head coach would put him in the matchday squad for the next game?
But he had never expected the team to be utterly helpless against their formidable local rivals.
Looking at the teammates who usually tormented him mercilessly, he saw that not one of them could display even a fraction of their usual training-ground ability. Henk Dimer in particular looked more like a headless fly charging around blindly. Where was the presence of the team's undisputed star?
Back home, Yang Yang had always been the top player on his team, so he had never really felt this way. But now, sitting on the bench, he suddenly realized that even someone as strong as Henk Dimer could not perform when left to fight alone. No matter how capable he was, he could not show his true level.
At the end of the day, soccer was a game for eleven people. One man could not beat eleven.
He had not been able to play, but that did not mean Yang Yang had stopped learning.
Before the match, Old Bing had assigned him a task: focus on observing the flow of the game while putting himself into the situation and thinking about three questions. If it were me, how would I make the run? How would I receive the ball? What would I do after receiving it?
The three questions seemed simple, but when combined with the enormous amount of information and ever-changing flow of the match, they still left Yang Yang overwhelmed even with God's Perspective assisting him. He was often unable to keep up and could only focus on the two players on the right flank.
That was precisely why he noticed that the substitute right back in this match was performing terribly, not even at half his usual level in training.
The match had gone on for more than an hour. Omnibus led the home side, Baken Academy, two-nil. The blow was severe for the home team, while the visitors were riding a wave of momentum and looked ready to sweep Baken Academy away in one final push.
But just as everyone was worried that Baken Academy might collapse completely, another change occurred on the field.
While defending against a Through Ball Behind and racing the opponent's left midfielder, Baken Academy's right back managed to reach the ball, but collided with the opposing player. He went tumbling to the ground and never got back up.
The fans on the sidelines erupted in an uproar.
The referee quickly stopped play and signaled for the team doctor to enter. Before long, a stretcher followed. The Baken Academy right back was carried off the field. The preliminary diagnosis was a sprain.
When it rains, it pours.
The fans supporting Baken Academy on the sidelines shook their heads in disappointment, clearly despairing of the match.
Both right backs were injured. How could they continue against Omnibus's dominant left flank?
Dick Van Pul was just as troubled. The Dutchman's brows furrowed tightly as he clenched his fists. He knew he had to make a decision as quickly as possible.
He had to make a substitution.
But the key question was: who?
Bring on a center back?
Then the match would definitely be lost, and everyone would think his decision had been too conservative.
Dick Van Pul swept his gaze across the substitutes' bench, his eyes filled with indecision. None of them seemed suitable.
In the end, his gaze settled on Yang Yang.
The Chinese boy had improved considerably recently, especially on defense, where he had repeatedly produced eye-catching tackles. His stamina was also excellent, and he was fast. Bringing him on now might allow them to hold the line for the remaining half hour.
With that thought, Dick Van Pul gritted his teeth. He had no choice but to make a desperate gamble. He immediately pointed at Yang Yang.
"Yang, get changed quickly. You're going on at right back."
"What?" Yang Yang could hardly believe his ears. He shot to his feet and stared at Dick Van Pul.
He was being brought on as a substitute now?
"I believe in you, Yang. You can handle it." Dick Van Pul encouraged him.
But even he thought the words sounded feeble, and Yang Yang certainly did not believe them.
"Anyway, once you're on, don't think about anything else. Just do one thing: defend. Mark their left midfielder. Deal with everything else yourself."
After saying that, Dick Van Pul patted Yang Yang firmly on the shoulder and pushed him toward the touchline.
Yang Yang's head was still spinning. He had never expected that he would actually be taking the field.
It was only when he stood on the touchline and saw his uncle's family of three waving at him from across the field and shouting encouragement that he smiled faintly, and his mind finally cleared.
Yes. It was finally his turn to take the field.
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