First Career Assist! Wanting Victory!

First Career Assist! Wanting Victory!

"Oh!!"

In the South Stand's Sheffield United supporters' section, thousands of fans in Red and White Sheffield United shirts burst into deafening cheers, setting the area near the south side alight. "Yeah!!"

In the previous two matches, the team had swallowed six goals and had yet to score one of their own.

They had even suffered the humiliation of being shut out by a National League side.

Their emotions had long been under extreme pressure, and only the deep, unwavering love they held for the team had supported them through every away trip.

Now, at last, they had seen a goal!

"Who was it? Who's that kid?!" someone cried, raising both hands in celebration, hope bursting from his eyes.

"Evans! Evans scored the first goal of the new season!" someone answered excitedly.

"No, I mean the one who assisted it! He's got so much spark—nimble breakthrough and cross, all in one go!" the person who had asked exclaimed in admiration as he pressed for an answer.

"Number 31. Never seen him before!"

"I haven't either."

"Seventeen years old, on loan from Arsenal. Seems to be called Maël. Making his debut today!" someone who had checked the pre-match information explained to everyone.

Since most of them were curious about the "player who made the assist," Maël's name swept rapidly across the entire stand like a gale, and details such as this being his career debut also became known among the Sheffield United fans.

To make the young lad down on the pitch remember this beautiful moment and enjoy the treatment he deserved, some fans spontaneously organized themselves and shouted his name.

"Maël! Maël!"

At first, the sound was still faint, until more and more people joined in, and it gradually rang up into the sky. "Maël! Maël!!"

Beside the pitch, on the substitutes' bench.

"Beautiful!"

Gilbert, wearing a substitute's bib, had long since had fire in his eyes, and this time he was the first to rush out, clenching both fists and shouting, "Maël, you did it!!"

After spending two months together day and night, for them, the other taking part in a goal was already no different from taking part in one themselves.

Gilbert was happy from the bottom of his heart, knowing clearly that after today, his good friend was about to step onto a new level.

"Come on!!"

The one who rushed out right after him was Gareth Speed. This young coach, who had just gone through an emotional outburst, had not expected the team to score a goal at this moment.

His emotions were ignited again. He clenched his right fist, bent his body, and punched into the air to release them, venting all the dissatisfaction from just now.

After celebrating, Gareth Speed cast his gaze toward one spot in the supporters' section. There, Chief Scout Joelson happened to turn his head over.

It was a flushed, radiant face. From so far away, it was impossible to tell whether tears were brimming in his eyes, but he must have been surging with emotion.

Gareth Speed gave him a thumbs-up, as if to say, well done.

As for the team's head coach Kevin beside him, his face showed more shock and complexity. Several emotions were mixed in his heart, leaving him unable to express anything.

Inside the arena, a blazing atmosphere surrounded the place.

"It's here!"

Every hair on Maël's body stood on end. Eyes wide, he sprinted toward Evans, who had completed the goal, as if flames were rising in his chest, forcing him to breathe out and in in great gulps.

His first stat on a professional pitch, his first assist in the Championship! These were things he had looked forward to for so long, and on this important day, they had finally arrived! After seeing Evans run toward him as well, Maël stood in place and lowered his center of gravity, because he had clearly caught Evans preparing to make a flying leap.

"Great pass! Great pass!"

Evans shouted as he ran over, then, from about a meter away from Maël, pushed off the ground and leaped at him.

"Beautiful finish!"

Maël praised him with a laugh, and then felt a powerful impact crash into him. He instinctively raised both hands and caught Evans.

Then they threw their arms around each other's shoulders and charged toward the supporters' section by the pitch.

The other teammates quickly followed as well, most of them congratulating the two.

"This has to be a day you'll never forget."

Team midfielder Janu Hans came over to Maël with a smile, slung an arm around his shoulder, and asked, "What else do you want?"

"Victory."

Maël smiled back and voiced his true thoughts. He did not want to endure the bitterness of defeat on a day that should have been joyful to the end.

His answer startled quite a few people. They had thought Maël would say a goal or a second assist.

"Let's work hard together."

Evans stated his position. He was ready to give everything; he just did not know about the others. "What about you?"

"I don't want to leave Maël with a bad memory of this first time."

Janu Hans also expressed his thoughts. He turned his gaze toward a few teammates he was close to and saw them all nod.

The group walked together toward their own half, encouraging one another along the way, their morale greatly lifted.

"Well done, kid!"

After returning to his position, Maël heard a voice from the back line. He turned to look and saw the team's goalkeeper, Robert, raising both hands high and applauding him.

Robert was one of the few veterans in the squad who had enjoyed a highly successful career. He was also Sheffield United's captain, kind and easygoing in daily life, and had looked after him a lot.

He thanked him and turned back around, feeling that everything was wonderful. New hope and new goals were waiting for him up ahead again.

Beep!

The referee blew the whistle for the third kickoff, and Cardiff City's center forward played the ball from the center circle.

Maël drove his legs forward again and charged into the opponent's half. This time, his fighting spirit burned even brighter.

Colney Training Base, youth team meeting room.

There was a bit of a delay here, but they had still already seen Maël's cross, as well as Evans arriving through the middle to finish.

Bang!

The instant the ball hit the net, Coach Hans, who had long since been unable to hold himself back, slammed his fist heavily onto the table, then raised both arms high. "His first assist! Maël's pass equalized the score! He's really something—absolutely brilliant!"

Surprise came in waves like the sea, surging again and again against their hearts.

"Oh—" The other Arsenal U17 players couldn't help but spring to their feet in shock and admiration too. Some roared, some clapped, and they had already imagined themselves in Maël's place.

From first hearing that Maël was going to come on, to discovering that Maël was starting, and now to seeing him provide an assist!

It was as if everyone had found themselves inside some magical painting and could not pull themselves away, yet that familiar, delicate face on the television told them this was real.

"Don't block me! I want to see him celebrate!"

"I want to watch too!"

"Didn't you kick a ball at him before? What are you looking for?"

"How long ago was that?"

"So cool. If it were me, I'd be sliding on my knees."

The players all craned their necks, watching Maël's celebration. Quite a few of them even began to tremble all over, their bodies tingling.

They wished more than anything that the person on the screen was themselves! That was a Championship match. Who knew how much more valuable an assist there was compared with one in their Youth Team League?

"Do Championship teams give bonuses for assists?" one player asked curiously.

"Fifteen hundred pounds!"

Hans turned his head and answered with a smile, "And bonuses at professional clubs are usually after tax."

Even more of them fell into a trembling state. That one kick was already worth more than half a month of their wages. In every sense, it was worth a fortune.

France, Aix.

In Clermont's home, the family of five sat in front of the sofa, watching the match with rapt attention.

"He's got the ball. Beat him—good!"

Clermont had the habit most male fans had when watching football: he liked playing coach, as if he had a controller in his hands. "Pass it. If they don't score, I'll—ah. It's in! Maël's assist!"

He stood up with the beer can in his hand raised high, his excited gaze sweeping over the others. "A toast to my nephew!"

The eldest and second child of the family, along with his wife, all raised their glasses and excitedly clinked them with his, smiling.

"Big brother is amazing!"

Ava wasn't drinking, and for the moment she didn't understand what kind of achievement her brother had just accomplished. She only kept clapping. "Big brother made lots of money! He has to buy me eight pizzas!"

She belonged to the atmosphere team. Every time she saw Maël appear on screen, she waved her hands and feet to remind everyone.

"I knew he could do it!"

Clermont had already drunk too much. Red-faced, he boasted, "Back in the day..."