The dawn chill hung in the air as Mahmoud stepped onto the sidelines of the main stadium pitch. Scouts and coaches lined the opposite touchline, their umbrellas dotting the rain-softened benches. Today was the friendly against the European youth side—his first full match since the injury. The roar of the near-empty stands felt electric.
He laced his boots one final time, flexed his ankle, and pulled on his number 6 jersey. As the captain of his developmental squad, he carried both responsibility and determination into every fiber of his being.
Coach Muneer gathered the starters in the center circle. "This is more than a scrimmage," he said. "You've earned this, but you've got to seize it. Stay compact, press smart, and control the midfield. Let's show them who we are."
Mahmoud exchanged glances with Kareem and Yasser. No words were needed. He took a deep breath, grounded himself, and jogged to his position in the left-center midfield.
The whistle blew. The European captain, Emil Gertsson, danced forward, demanding the ball under heavy pressure. Mahmoud tracked him step for step, closing the gap. When Emil shifted inside, Mahmoud intercepted the pass, spun on his right foot, and fed a sharp diagonal to Yasser—just as he'd studied in simulation. The winger drove forward and tested the keeper with a low shot that was tipped wide.
The visitors countered immediately. Their midfielders pressed the pivot relentlessly. Mahmoud dropped deep, blocking passing lanes, his body angled to shepherd their play toward the touchline. He sensed the right-back vacate for a surprise overlap, and he sprinted to cover, sliding in to deflect the cross out for a corner.
Every tackle, every pass, every recovery carried weight. Forty minutes in, the scoreboard remained 0–0—proof that this was a battle of wills. Although squatter in physique, Mahmoud's discipline and anticipation kept the game level.
At halftime, Coach Muneer offered measured praise. "You're dictating the tempo. Keep pressing. Stay alert for their diagonal switches."
Mahmoud nodded, dripping with rain and sweat. He sipped water as VALYS confirmed his stamina at 78% and core stability at 94%.
The second half surged with intensity. On the hour mark, Mahmoud received the ball from his center back under tight marking. He feinted left, drew two opponents, and threaded a low through-ball between defenders. The striker finished clinically—1–0 to the academy.
The stadium erupted—an unfamiliar but welcome sound. Scouts leaned forward, jotting notes. Mahmoud let himself smile just once.
But there was no time to celebrate. The Europeans pressed immediately, forcing a turnover in midfield. Mahmoud sprinted back, sliding in with last-gasp timing to win the ball cleanly—scoring a silent redemption for the defenders.
As the final whistle neared, both sides traded chances. In the 88th minute, Mahmoud collected the ball in space thirty meters out, advanced, and unleashed a curling effort toward the top corner. It rattled the post, and he fell to one knee, heart thundering.
The whistle blew. Final score: 1–0. His developmental squad had beaten the European side.
As teammates poured onto the pitch, Coach Muneer found Mahmoud first. "You held the spine today," he said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Vision, grit, and leadership. You're ready."
Mahmoud's ankle throbbed as he walked toward the tunnel, but he barely noticed. His mind was already on the next step—full integration into the first unit, league play, and beyond.
Under the stadium lights fading to daylight, Mahmoud Hassan—a boy once defined by limitations—stood at the starting line of his true journey.
End of Chapter 17.