The pitch felt tighter than it looked.
Marcus noticed it the moment he stepped onto the grass. Narrow touchlines. The crowd closer than usual. Every sound sharper. Away grounds always felt like that. Less forgiving.
He tugged at the collar of his shirt and glanced toward the bench.
The coach stood with his arms folded.
"Same instructions," he said as Marcus jogged past. "Stay high. Pick your moments."
Marcus nodded.
No argument. No reaction.
That was new.
The whistle went.
From the first minute, the opposition centre-backs made their intentions clear. They stayed tight. Hands always on Marcus. A shove whenever the ball moved wide. A step across his run even when he wasn't asking for it.
Marcus stayed where he was told.
He felt invisible.
Five minutes. No touches.
Ten minutes. Still none.
"SHOW," the left midfielder shouted.
Marcus showed. The ball went sideways.
The centre-back chuckled under his breath.
Marcus swallowed it.
Twelfth minute.
The midfield tried to force a vertical pass that never should've been played. It bounced off a shin and fell straight into opposition feet.
They broke fast.
Marcus turned and sprinted, but the winger was already gone. The fullback slipped. The cross came low and early.
GOAL.
Score: Manchester United Academy 0 – 1 Opponent
The noise hit instantly.
"STAY UP!"
"WHY ARE YOU BACK THERE?"
The captain pointed forward, jaw clenched.
Marcus jogged back to the centre circle, eyes down.
This was what obedience cost.
He didn't change right away.
That was the hardest part.
For the next fifteen minutes, Marcus stayed high even when every instinct screamed to drop. He watched the same passing lane open just beyond his reach. Watched the centre-back step forward once, then relax when Marcus didn't follow.
The defender was learning.
So was Marcus.
Twenty-ninth minute.
The midfielder received under pressure, head down. The centre-back stepped out aggressively this time.
Marcus waited.
One second longer than felt comfortable.
Then he dropped.
Two steps. Not five.
The ball arrived on his back foot. He turned instantly and slipped it between the centre-back and fullback before either could recover.
The winger burst through and finished first time.
GOAL.
Score: Manchester United Academy 1 – 1 Opponent
Marcus didn't celebrate. He turned and jogged back.
The centre-back stared at him now.
No smile.
The rest of the half sharpened.
Every touch Marcus took came with a hit. Late knees. Studs raking his boot. Words whispered too quietly for the referee.
"MAKE UP YOUR MIND," the centre-back hissed after one challenge.
Marcus looked at him. "I have."
The half ended without another goal.
The second half began angry.
The opposition pressed higher, frustrated. Their midfield snapped into tackles. Shirts stretched. The referee warned once, then stopped talking altogether.
Fifty-second minute.
Marcus received with his back to goal and felt a boot crunch into his calf. He stumbled but stayed upright long enough to lay the ball off cleanly.
No whistle.
He smiled to himself.
Fifty-ninth minute.
The centre-back lunged late this time. Marcus hopped the challenge instinctively and felt the follow-through clip his ankle.
He went down hard.
"THAT'S ENOUGH!" the captain shouted at the referee.
Yellow card.
The defender glared at Marcus as he got up. "DECIDE!"
Marcus leaned in just enough. "You first."
Sixty-fifth minute.
This time, Marcus didn't touch the ball at all.
He curved his run outward, dragging both centre-backs with him. Not asking for the pass. Just moving enough to pull them.
The space opened centrally.
The attacking midfielder arrived late and struck it clean.
GOAL.
Score: Manchester United Academy 2 – 1 Opponent
Marcus sprinted back immediately, pointing once toward the centre circle.
The coach clapped. Once. Sharp.
That mattered more than he expected.
The final twenty minutes were survival.
Long balls rained in. Second balls bounced everywhere. Voices cracked from shouting.
Marcus tracked back once, intercepting a square pass near the halfway line. He drew a foul and stayed down longer than necessary, letting seconds bleed off the clock.
Eighty-eighth minute.
The opposition countered again. Marcus received near the corner flag with his back to goal and three men closing. He shielded the ball, took a kick, then another, until the whistle finally came.
The final whistle followed moments later.
FULL-TIME SCORE: Manchester United Academy 2 – 1 Opponent
Marcus bent forward, hands on his knees, lungs burning.
This one felt heavier than the last.
The dressing room buzzed afterward. Not celebration. Relief.
The goalscorers were congratulated. The captain clapped Marcus on the shoulder once.
"Better," he said.
That was all.
Later that night, Marcus sat on his bed with his phone in his hand.
This time, he didn't open his notes.
He opened the profile.
PLAYER PROFILE – INTERNAL ASSESSMENT
Name: Marcus Hale
Position: False 9
Level: Academy
OVERALL: 72
PHYSICAL:
Sprint Speed: 73
Acceleration: 74
Stamina: 71
Balance: 69
TECHNICAL:
Dribbling: 76
Ball Control: 77
Passing: 78
Shooting: 70
MENTAL
Vision: 79
Decision Speed: 82
Composure: 66
Marcus stared at the numbers longer than he expected.
Nothing unlocked.
Nothing flashy.
But the shape of him had changed.
He locked the screen and leaned back against the wall.
Staying high wasn't the problem.
Moving late was the solution.
THE SPACE IS BETTER WHEN YOU WAIT FOR IT.
Tomorrow, they'd talk about the score.
The sheet would tell its version.
Marcus knew his.
[These are just stats which will continue throughout the series, we will be having many milestones and goals assists tracking once he goes pro and leaves the academy, so guys just wait for the story to get built]