Brand New Entry: perfect Rejection Episode 1

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#PERFECT_REJECTION_EPISODE1
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All acts in the series is a product of
fiction and mere imaginations, any
resemblance to person, people or
place should be disregarded.
Story written and composed by
@Babsopey
All rights reserved
Now let’s get to the real deal.
This is my first time of writing,
therefore I’ll welcome encouragement
and especially criticism. But do make
the abuse funny I can laugh and
correct.
Prolog:
This story is mainly about two final
year lovers from different
backgrounds. The circumstances
leading to their meeting, their
challenge and their future together.
Read and enjoy. Thanks

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credits: Pesman

Episode 1
Episode 1
The match has gotten to the last
15mins and
we are 2nill down in what is our first
ever
final match in the FIFA world cup
competition. We couldn’t believe our
eyes as
the center referee point to the penalty
spot
after the Uruguan striker willingly dive
to the
ground as if he was hit by a speed
train. I
can’t believe the same ref who had
earlier
gave two penalties to the Uruguans
which
resulted in their two goal lead will dip
his
hand into his pocket giving our left
central
back his marching order. Red card!
For what?
The guy wasn’t even the last man. This
is a
prove this FIFA won’t allow an African
nation
talkless of Nigeria to win the
prestigious FIFA
world cup.
Our coach was furious and all of us on
the
bench feel like protesting but it
matters not
as the penalty is well taken by the
Uruguan
striker who is now on hat-trick. He
again put
our goal keeper who has been
jumping here
and ther like a castrated mosquito the
wrong
way, again. 3nill with one man down,
less
than 15mins to the regular time, the
game is
all but over.
A change is expected from our coach
to
substitute either a midfielder or our
lone
striker (who has done nothing in the
match
but to dress his hair every now and
then) for
a defender to prevent a total
humiliation. I, a
young striker who made the team as
a result
of my performance in the previous
year’s
world youth tournament has giving
up hope
of ever appearing in the tournament. I
was
already lost in thinking when I heard
the voice
of my coach
“Williams”! Come over here and show
the
world how strong we are coming
back next
four years. I couldn’t believe my ears
but
quickly jump up removing the bench
bib that
I was putting on and now fully kitted.
The
assistant referee raise the changing
bar with
my number (32) in green and that of
our left
winger in red. I thought, does coach
want me
to play on the left side? My left leg is
not as
strong compare to my right.
Coach: listen Williams, I’m using you as
my
free man now
Me: What does that mean sir?
Coach: It means you are free to play
any
whereon the pitch
Me: Okay sir
Coach: Tell Okowa (our lone striker)
it’s over
to you guys now.
The coach then send a sign to the
captain
and the rest of the team which mean
they
should withdraw. I ecstatically entered
the
pitch knowing I’m now the youngest
player to
ever represent my country in the
tournament.
To my surprise, the crowds all stood
up
clapping as I entered the pitch, some
singing
using my name “You did it in Sydney
you can
do it here, you did it with Chelsea, you
can do
it here, go Williams go, go Africa go”. I
immediately felt adrenalin running my
body;
chasing the ball as if my life depends
on it.
The singing was still going on when
their last
defender receiving a pass from their
goal
keeper tried to nutmeg me, but
missed his
step and instead hit the ball sideway, I
saw
the opportunity and remembered my
coach’s
word “use your speed” he said. I ran
after the
ball, looked up and I saw their
goalkeeper
was already on me with Okowa
shouting at
his back “I’m free boy!, ball!, ball!!,
ball!!!. I
hit the leather made white coloured
round
object with my right foot and the ball
went
directly to Okowa’s waiting right leg
who
made no mistake in sending the ball
to the
back of net from just 6yards. Goal! We
scored. I was expecting a running
jubilation
from Okowa, but he instead run
inside the
goal, pick the ball and run towards the
center
pass using his hand to tell me to
follow. It
was then I remembered we were still
two
goals down with 10mins to go at
regular
time.
The match continued with Uruguans
passing
the ball around, to which they got a
goal
attempt from the powerful header of
their
powerful striker who headed the ball
towards
the far post from a perfect cross from
the left
wing. But our goalkeeper did well this
time
around clipping the ball between his
palms
and immediately sending the ball like
a
missile far beyond the center line
towards the
waiting Okowa who after some
moves forward
a pass to my very self who has a
defender to
go through and boom! I was already
rolling
on the floor; I did not even know
what
happened until I heard my captain
shouting
“you wan kill him? wetin happen na?
Then Okowa was beside me saying,
“O boy
get up, there is no time, he already
gave the
free kick”. I stood up perfectly okay as
the
free kick was about to be taken by
our
captain. I stood in the box with others
running here and there. The ball was
kicked
and before I know what’s going on I
felt a
push from behind and as I was trying
not to
fall the ball hit my head and deflected
to the
far corner of the post. Goal! I just
scored! 3-2
and said to myself, Liverpool versus AC
Millan is happening all over again. You
cannot hear your words anymore as
the
cheers and jeers from the crowd are
overwhelming. The match continues
and we
go an equalizer from a corner kick by
one of
our fill backs who headed the ball
beyond
their goalkeeper’s reach at the end of
regular
time 90mins. Wao! I can’t believe this
is
happening. The assistant referee
signifies
additional 3minutes of injury time but
I wish
the match ends by 90mins.
The Uruguans are now playing at a
very high
tempo to which they hit the
woodwork in the
space of 1min. 30secs to go and the
ball got
to my leg through a direct pass from
our
goalkeeper. I kept moving with the
ball
speeding along as I only have the
goalkeeper
to beat. He kept moving towards me
and
approach speedily as I get towards
the edge
of the box, I dribbled to the right side,
and
immediately lose control but struggled
to hit
the ball towards the goal before
another
boom! I’m on the floor again. But this
time,
it’s a penalty. I received hailing from
my
team mate with shout of jubilation
from the
crowd. Our bench has already stood
up as our
captain is about to take what will be
the kick
of our life! The referee blew and he
kicked the
ball so hard but it hit the goalkeeper’s
waiting leg.
.
Tbc

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