LightReader

Chapter 48 - Chapter 46

‎CHAPTER 67— "Cold Air, Hot Football"

‎Saturday arrived with the kind of winter sky that looked frozen in place—pale, heavy, unmoving. The Marseille academy pitch glistened with a thin crust of frost, and every breath Kweku took came out in thick white clouds. Players stamped their cleats on the ground to stay warm.

‎Their opponent today was Stade Rennais' U-18 side—fast, technical, well-drilled. A team known for pressing relentlessly and punishing mistakes. Coach Bernard had reminded them all week:

‎"Be calm under pressure. They will squeeze you. Stay disciplined."

‎During warm-ups, Louis jogged beside Kweku.

‎"Nervous?"

‎Kweku exhaled slowly. "A little."

‎"Good. Means you care."

‎Across the pitch, the Rennes players wore black gloves and matching thermal undershirts, moving in synchronised patterns. They looked sharp. Confident.

‎Bernard gathered the Marseille boys in a tight huddle.

‎"Listen," he began. "We respect Rennais, but we do not fear them. We match their intensity. Kweku—control the rhythm. Louis—support him. Antoine, stretch them on the left. Jean-Luc, be ready to finish. Defenders, no silly fouls."

‎He scanned their faces.

‎"Play smart. Play together."

‎The referee whistled.

‎Kickoff.

‎---

‎First Half

‎"And we begin here at the Marseille training centre—Marseille U-18 versus Stade Rennais U-18!" the commentator announced through the stadium speakers. "It's freezing, but both teams look fired up for this match."

‎Rennes started quickly, pressing high with three forwards cutting passing lanes. Kweku dropped deep to help the defenders play out from the back.

‎The ball rolled to him—

‎Immediately two Rennes players closed in.

‎He slipped the ball between them with a quick feint, and the crowd murmured in appreciation.

‎"Good composure from Mensah early on. Rennes pressing, but he handles it well."

‎He found Louis, who switched the play wide. Antoine charged down the flank, but Rennes recovered quickly, forcing a throw-in.

‎Marseille tried building again.

‎Again Rennais pressed.

‎Again Kweku had to wriggle free.

‎In the 9th minute, Marseille nearly paid for a mistake. Their right-back miscontrolled a pass, gifting Rennes possession.

‎"Chance for Rennais—onto the edge of the box—shot!"

‎Ayoub, Marseille's keeper, dove full stretch.

‎Saved.

‎Kweku's stomach tightened. This team wasn't Montpellier. Rennais weren't waiting; they were hunting.

‎Louis jogged over. "We need to stop losing the ball in our half."

‎"I know," Kweku said, wiping his breath from his sleeve. "Let's slow the game down."

‎And they did.

‎Kweku began dropping between the centre-backs, giving himself more space. Rennes pressed, but he released the ball earlier, avoiding traps.

‎"Mensah orchestrating from deep now—smart adjustment from Marseille."

‎In the 15th minute, he played a sharp diagonal to Antoine, who chested it down and cut inside.

‎"Antoine shoots—deflected—corner!"

‎Marseille grew in confidence.

‎The corner curled in toward the near post. Louis flicked the ball with his head—

‎Just wide.

‎"Next time," Louis muttered.

‎---

‎Rennes Strike First

‎Rennes hit back in the 22nd minute.

‎A quick one-two split Marseille's midfield. Their winger burst down the right, crossed early, and the Rennes striker nodded it past Ayoub.

‎"GOAL! Stade Rennais take the lead! A well-worked move down the right. Marseille caught flat-footed."

‎The Rennes players sprinted to the corner flag, celebrating as if it were a cup final.

‎Marseille's shoulders drooped.

‎But Kweku clapped loudly. "Heads up! We stay in this. Come on!"

‎Coach Bernard cupped his hands around his mouth.

‎"Kweku, higher! Press with Jean-Luc! Antoine—track back earlier!"

‎The game restarted, and suddenly Marseille found urgency.

‎Antoine ran at his marker. Jean-Luc battled for loose balls. Louis intercepted passes aggressively.

‎Rennes, however, kept control.

‎"They're a top academy for a reason," the commentator noted. "Marseille must stay patient. This is a real test for their young side."

‎---

‎A Chance for Marseille

‎In the 34th minute, Kweku finally created something from nothing.

‎He received the ball just inside the Rennes half. A defender rushed in. Kweku dragged the ball behind his leg, spun, and accelerated forward.

‎The crowd buzzed.

‎"Brilliant turn from Mensah! He's away!"

‎He drove toward the box. A second defender closed in. Kweku feinted left, slipped right, and fired a low pass to Jean-Luc.

‎Jean-Luc shot—

‎Blocked.

‎The rebound rolled to Antoine, who smashed it—

‎Saved by the keeper.

‎Kweku put his hands on his head.

‎So close.

‎Louis patted him. "Keep feeding us."

‎---

‎The Equaliser

‎The breakthrough came in the 41st minute.

‎Antoine was fouled near the corner flag. Free kick.

‎Louis stepped up to take it.

‎"Jean-Luc," he whispered, "far post."

‎Kweku positioned himself at the edge of the box.

‎Louis swung the ball in—a curling, dipping delivery.

‎Jean-Luc rose.

‎Header.

‎GOAL.

‎The net rippled, and the stands erupted.

‎"Equaliser for Marseille! Beautiful delivery from Louis, and Jean-Luc finishes with a towering header! 1–1!"

‎Kweku pumped his fist, shouting, "Let's go!"

‎Jean-Luc ran to the corner flag, sliding on the frosty grass. Louis chased him, laughing.

‎The momentum had shifted.

‎---

‎Closing Minutes of the Half

‎Rennais tried to respond, forcing two corners, but Ayoub handled both well.

‎Kweku nearly assisted again with a quick through-ball, but Antoine couldn't reach it in time.

‎The referee checked his watch—

‎Whistle.

‎Halftime.

‎1–1.

‎The players jogged off, breathless, steam rising off their backs.

‎In the locker room, Bernard stood near the whiteboard.

‎"This is good," he said calmly. "But listen—Rennes will start fast again. You must control the middle, Kweku. Don't let them dictate tempo. Louis—support transitions. Antoine—your pressing is crucial."

‎He looked at the whole team.

‎"Stay focused. Stay compact. And be brave on the ball."

‎Louis nudged Kweku. "Ready?"

‎Kweku inhaled deeply. "I have to be."

‎They stood, laced their boots tighter, and walked back into the freezing air.

‎The cold hit instantly, sharp and unforgiving.

‎But the fire in their chests kept them warm.

‎"Second half coming up! Can Marseille take control, or will Rennes show their quality?"

‎The whistle pierced the air.

‎And the battle resumed.

‎---

More Chapters