The Greatest of all Time

Without turning back, Zachary jumped high into the ball's line of flight and presented his upper back as the receiving surface. At the same time, he relaxed his back muscles to kill the ball's momentum on contact. And as he expected, he felt the ball hit his back in the next second, while he was at the apogee of his leap.

At that instant, Zachary pushed out his back muscles, cushioning the ball past the chasing defender before he started his descent back to the ground. When his feet touched the ground, he didn't pause—but spun around the disoriented defender who was still searching for the ball.

Zachary smiled when he discerned he'd nudged the ball in the right direction. He had directed it over the defender's shoulder, with his back. Zachary shrugged off the chasing defender—who was trying to foul him and took off with the ball—like the wind, sprinting towards ADO Den Haag's box. His heart pounded in his chest like he was a predator on the hunt as he dashed off, cutting back into the pitch.

A defender sprung up in his tunnel vision, but he poked the ball in-between his legs and circumvented him with his incredible pace. Another defender closed down on him as soon as he passed the first one. He used the same trick. Without slowing down, he nudged the ball a little bit, pushing it between his legs with the tip of his boot. He then bolted past him, leaving him butt-down, on the artificial grass.

The third defender came up soon after with a sliding tackle. Zachary decelerated a little and dug the tip of his left boot beneath the rolling ball at his feet. Without stopping, he deftly flicked the ball over the defender and then leaped over him—before recommencing his mad sprinting across the green.

Zachary had regained the instinctual state of mind once again. His thought process while running with the ball was lightning fast, such that the actions of the defenders seemed like part of a video in slow motion. His eyes were focused on the obstacles—the defenders before him. Yet, in some strange way, he could still perceive and react in time when someone closed in on him from his blind spots.

He continued his advance towards ADO Den Haag's box, weaving past defender after defender before coming face-to-face with the goalkeeper.

Zachary did not slow down when the keeper came out to greet him. He circumvented him with his ridiculous pace and skipped over a challenge he'd noticed in his peripheral vision. He continued his run with the ball all the way to the back of the net.

He only broke out of the uncanny state of mind when ?rjan came up to him to celebrate the goal. Then it all came back to him: How he'd somehow zigzagged through multiple defenders without so much as a conscious thought. That state of focus was simply divine.

He tried to tap on that feeling, to pull at the instinct—the state of mind that had elevated his playing style. However, it was fleeting, ebbing like a tide away from his conscious mind. Soon, it was gone without a trace.

[What was that feeling?] He mused as he came back to himself. He had never felt anything like that in both his lives. He wondered whether the state of mind was something all thriving athletes possessed or something born from the system. Whatever the case, he was determined to find out.

Zachary pushed the weird thoughts out of his mind when the rest of his teammates ran into ADO Den Haag's goal and jumped on him to celebrate the goal. His mood lifted when he remembered that he'd possibly just scored NF Academy's winning goal.

NF Academy was leading 2:1 in the semifinal. The digital watch on the large screen had just ticked to the 82nd minute. Zachary had put his team ahead with only eight minutes of play left, discounting injury time.

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"Unbelievable, unbelievable, simply magic," the commentator's deep voice boomed over the loud cheering in the stadium. "Oh my goodness me! What a magnificent goal! The genius! Are we witnessing the birth of a great here in the Riga tournament? Someone, please slap me and tell me that I'm dreaming. That goal was out of this world..."

Emily Anderson, in the stands, was ecstatic after Zachary scored his second goal. The ravings of the commentator sounded like music to her ears. The cheers of the fans in attendance warmed the air around her more than any sun ever could.

In her eyes, Zachary was like a goose that laid golden eggs. Every spectacular goal he scored would translate into a substantial amount of cash later on. There were sure to be several potential endorsement deals around the corner if he could maintain his present form.

"Are you sure he doesn't want to leave Norway?" Jimmy Edwards asked, yelling to make himself heard over the cheers around them.

Emily smiled, shaking her head. "I've talked at length with him about moving. He says he wants to find his legs first in the easier Norwegian League. He'll only think of moving to a bigger stage after that."

Jimmy lifted an eyebrow. "Are you 'simply' going to allow him to waste his time in that league? The Tottenham people just contacted me last night. They are ready to offer him a deal if he wishes to leave for London as soon as he turns eighteen. Do you want to allow him to miss such a golden opportunity?" He queried, locking gazes with Emily. "Why am I not surprised? You are an intern, after all."

Emily frowned. "A decision to move should represent the core interests of the player. I've talked with him, and he really wants to stay in Norway for now." She said, her voice firm.

Jimmy shrugged. "Well, I need to meet him myself before the tournament ends. Try to organize a meeting with him away from the eyes of the others. Only then will I be able to determine whether what you say is true."

"I'll tell him about your suggestion," Emily replied. "If he agrees to the meeting, then well and good. But, if he has reservations, there's nothing I can do."

She smiled softly. "And FYI, the offer from Tottenham is not the only one he has received. Zenit, Atalanta, and Genoa have all shown interest in him. However, he hasn't agreed to meet with any of their representatives."

Jimmy smiled, shaking his head. "That's the problem with young inexperienced agents like you. There's always a price for everyone. Our role as agents is to determine that price and push our clients to take a more profitable deal. Don't bother with the meeting anymore. I'll try to see if I can move things in my own way."

Emily frowned, her mind running through all the avenues Jimmy could take to push Zachary into moving away from Norway. However, she found none, except offering him a very lucrative contract that was hard to refuse.

However, no big club would be willing to offer a big-money-contract to an inexperienced player still in an academy. Players could lose form as they advanced in years. A player who was the best in the academy wouldn't necessarily remain at the top of his game five or ten years later. That was why soccer careers were—often regarded as marathons, not sprints.

A player had to continue doing his best in both training and matches to maintain his form in the long run. Otherwise, he would stumble and turn mediocre before reaching the finish line.

Club executives knew that simple truth, and in most cases, wouldn't allow their scouting departments to offer contracts involving large sums of money to inexperienced players. That was why she'd agreed with Zachary when he said he wanted to first play in Norway for some time before moving on to a bigger stage. If he managed to play well in his debut season at Rosenborg, he could fetch a sizeable transfer fee from the bigger clubs that wanted him.

The higher the transfer fees, the higher her commission would be when she finished negotiating the transfer. Maybe after such a deal, she would be-able-to fulfill her long-time dream of starting her own sports agency. That was her target, and she wasn't going to allow anyone to mess with her first golden goose.

She shook her head, dispersing the daydreams out of her head, and returned her focus to the match. She was glad she'd hired a cameraman for the game rather than doing it herself. She could fully enjoy the 90 minutes of soccer without being distracted by the work of recording Zachary's performance.

ADO Den Haag was still dictating the tempo of the game despite having just conceded the goal. They continued using their signature wing attacks and delivering crosses into the box after every few minutes. NF Academy was under immense pressure and didn't seem able to get the ball away from their half—towards Zachary and the other forward. However, they managed to hold on until the game ended 2:1 in favor of NF Academy.

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