The morning after the match was calm. The team went through a light recovery session. The atmosphere was relaxed yet content. The high pressure of the previous week had faded, replaced by the quiet confidence of a team that had been tested and succeeded. Players who had been fierce competitors just days earlier now chatted easily, connected by their shared experience.
Marcus approached Ethan by the water coolers. "That goal," he said, serious but with a thoughtful look. "The defender thought you were passing. The little drag-back gave you the space you needed. Smart." Coming from Marcus, this was high praise.
"You made the run that created the space," Ethan replied. It was a simple exchange, but it confirmed the respect they had built on the field.
The ride home felt different this time. Pride filled the car. When they arrived back in Eastfield, it was obvious the news had spread faster than they did. A neighbor stood in their garden to cheer, and his phone buzzed constantly with messages from friends and classmates. The Eastfield Gazette online headline read: "MATTHEWS FIRES ENGLAND TO VICTORY."
However, the first people he wanted to see were Callum and Mason. He found them at the Crestwood training ground, kicking a ball around as if it were just another day.
Callum spotted him first and broke into a big grin. He jogged over to slap him on the back. "There he is! England's hero! I saw the highlights online. What a beautiful goal! I told everyone, 'That's my number ten!' But," he added with a classic Callum smirk, "if I had been on the end of that pass from Marcus, it would've been a hat-trick. But a win's a win."
Mason's approval was quieter but just as strong. He walked over, looked Ethan straight in the eye, and nodded slowly. "You didn't just play," he said, his voice low and serious. "You made the difference. That's what we talked about. Good. I'm proud of you."
The praise from his two closest friends meant more than any headline. As the week went on and Ethan got ready to return to club training, he sensed a subtle change. When he entered the Crestwood changing room, the usual banter quieted for a moment. All eyes were on him. He was no longer just Ethan, their teammate who had helped them win the league. He was Ethan Matthews, the England international who scored on his debut.
As they stepped onto the training pitch, he could feel it. His teammates passed to him more often, eager for him to create something special with every touch. The opponents in drills marked him closely, determined to show they could handle an "international."
Coach Warren blew his whistle to start the session and gave Ethan a proud but knowing look. The message was clear: expectations had risen.
Ethan stood on the familiar pitch, the same one where he had nervously tried out less than a year ago. It felt the same under his feet, but everything else had shifted. The joy of his achievement was real, but so was the heavy weight of expectation now on his shoulders. Every game, every pass, every single touch would be judged against the memory of that goal in an England shirt. His journey had reached a new peak, but he realized, with sudden clarity, that the fall would be much harder if he did not keep climbing higher.