Atlético kicked off again.
The game changed after that equalizer as both teams came alive. The tempo picked up significantly. Tackles flew in harder, players sprinted faster, and the crowd got louder.
This was what football should look like.
In the 27th minute, Atlético nearly retook the lead. Their left winger cut inside from the flank and curled a shot toward the top corner. Miguel stretched full length and tipped it over the bar. A brilliant save.
The crowd applauded his effort. Even some Atlético fans clapped for that one.
From the corner, the ball pinged around the box again. Heitor tried to clear it but only managed to knock it to an Atlético midfielder at the edge of the area. The midfielder struck it cleanly on the volley, and it looked like it was going in.
But no, Cauã threw himself in front of it. The ball hit his chest hard. He fell to the ground, gasping for air. The referee and his teammates hurried over to check on him.
"You good?" The referee asked.
Cauã nodded, still catching his breath. "Yeah... I'm good."
The game continued without pause. There was no time to rest.
Vila Nova pushed forward. Rafael dropped deep to link play. He received the ball from Enzo and flicked it around the corner for Gustavo, who had made a run in behind.
Gustavo was through on goal. Just him and the keeper.
He took a touch to steady himself. But the first touch was too heavy. The ball got away from him slightly. The keeper took advantage of the opportunity as he rushed out and smothered it before Gustavo could shoot.
Another chance wasted.
Gustavo kicked the ground in frustration. Some of the home fans groaned.
The 30th minute passed. Then the 31st. The game was stretched open now. End-to-end stuff, with both teams trading attacks.
In the 32nd minute, Luiz got free down the right. He drove into the box and cut the ball back. Bernardo arrived late and smashed it toward the goal.
But it was blocked. A defender threw his body in the way.
The rebound fell to Rafael, who was anxious to score. He swung at it, but missed completely. He lost his footing and fell.
"Come on!" Coach Domingos yelled. "Composure!"
Then, in the 33rd minute, everything went wrong.
Atlético played a quick one-two down their left side. Their winger knocked it past João and sprinted into the box. João was caught out of position, and the winger was through on goal.
Davi, the defensive midfielder, had tracked back. He saw the danger and slid in to make a tackle. He successfully got the ball, but he also got the man.
The Atlético winger went down right away, tumbling and rolling on the ground as if his life depended on it. Honestly, it was an Oscar-worthy performance.
The referee didn't hesitate. He pointed straight at the spot and blew his whistle sharply and loudly.
Fweeeee!
Penalty.
"No! No way!" Davi protested, hands up. "I got the ball first!"
The referee wasn't interested. He pulled out a yellow card and showed it to Davi.
"That's bullshit!" Thiago shouted from the back.
Coach Domingos kicked a water bottle on the touchline but didn't say anything. He knew it was a penalty. That was a clumsy challenge.
Miguel set himself on the goal line. He clapped his hands together and crouched low, looking focused.
The Atlético striker placed the ball on the spot. He took four steps back, looking calm and unrushed.
Fweee!
The referee blew his whistle.
The striker ran up confidently. Miguel dove to his left, but the ball went low and hard into the right corner.
1-2. Atlético.
Their fans erupted again. The striker ran to the corner flag and slid on his knees. His teammates piled on top of him.
Vila Nova's players stood with their hands on their heads. Miguel stayed on the ground for a second, staring at the ball in the net.
On the bench, Leandro felt his chest tighten. This game was slowly slipping away. The scouts were watching a team fall apart.
But Coach Domingos didn't panic. He clapped his hands and walked to the touchline.
"Hey! Heads up!" he shouted. "We've got fifteen minutes left in this half. Plenty of time to dig something up. Keep playing and move the ball with intent. Stay calm!"
Some players nodded. Others still looked rattled.
The game restarted.
Vila Nova pushed forward right away. They had to, because going into halftime down 2-1 would completely destroy their confidence.
Enzo drove forward with the ball. He played it wide to Luiz. Luiz beat his marker and crossed it in. But it was too long as it went over everyone for a goal kick.
The next attack came soon. João overlapped on the right. Bernardo found him with a diagonal ball. João controlled it and fired a shot from distance. But it was wide. Not even close.
The chances kept coming. But none of them fell.
Gustavo got the ball in the 40th minute. He tried to dribble past two defenders, but lost the ball. Atlético countered. Miguel had to make another save to keep it at 2-1.
Gustavo put his hands on his head. He looked physically and mentally destroyed. Things were not going as he had envisioned today.
In the 43rd minute, Rafael had a header from a corner. It shot straight at the keeper, who made an easy save of it.
The home fans were getting anxious now. You could feel the restless energy in the stadium.
Then came the 45th +1 minute. First minute of added time.
Bernardo received the ball just outside the box. He turned his man beautifully and drove into the area. An Atlético defender panicked and stuck out a leg, and Bernardo went down. The referee's whistle blew immediately.
Fweeeee!
Penalty!
The home section exploded with cheers. Finally! A chance to equalize.
Bernardo got up and grabbed the ball. He was the team's penalty taker, calm and reliable. He had scored four out of five this season.
But before he could place the ball on the spot, Gustavo rushed over.
"Let me take it," Gustavo said. His voice was desperate. Pleading even.
Bernardo blinked. "What?"
"Please. Let me take it. I need this."
'The fvck! I also need it' Bernardo almost cussed out, but he just paused and looked at him.
On second thought, he really was pitiful. Gustavo's face was tight, and his eyes were wide. The veins within them were even visible. He looked like a man drowning.
Some of the other players exchanged glances. Rafael shook his head slightly as he glanced at his teammates. Most of them looked away, clearly wanting nothing to do with this.
"I don't know, man..." Bernardo said slowly.
"Please," Gustavo said again. "I've messed up everything today. Just... let me make it right."
Bernardo hesitated. Then he sighed and handed Gustavo the ball.
"Alright. It's yours."
Gustavo took the ball. His hands were shaking slightly as he placed it on the spot.
Leandro watched from the bench, and as soon as he saw what was happening, his stomach dropped. This felt like a big mistake. He had a bad feeling. Things weren't going the way they had in his past life. In that game, Gustavo had been the star, scoring a perfect hat trick and making two assists. But now...
No. When Leandro looked at Gustavo's face, he knew. The pressure was too much for the young player. The desperation was overwhelming.
Gustavo stepped back five steps from the ball. His knees felt weak as he wiped his sweaty palms on his shorts. But on the surface, he forced a calm and ready look.
The referee blew his whistle.
Fweeeee!
Gustavo started his run-up. He struck the ball hesitantly.
The keeper dove left, but the ball went right. He completely sold him with a good, low, and hard placement.
Unfortunately, it struck the outside of the post with a loud CLANG!
The ball bounced back out. It spun away and rolled out for a goal kick.
Silence...
It was completely silent. Not a sound in the stadium.
Then the groans started, coming from the stands, the players, and the coaching staff. Even the scouts chuckled and shook their heads. What kind of soap opera was this?
Gustavo stood there frozen on the spot. Staring at the post like he couldn't believe what just happened.
Some fans put their heads in their hands. Others began booing him loudly and harshly.
"Are you kidding me?!"
"How do you miss that?!"
"What the hell, Gustavo!"
The boos grew louder, spreading through the home section like wildfire.
Gustavo's teammates didn't say anything. They just walked away. Back to their positions. Some shook their heads. Others wouldn't even look at him.
Bernado jogged past Gustavo without a word. His face said everything.
Coach Domingos stood on the touchline with his arms crossed. He looked like he wanted to scream but was barely holding it in.
The Atlético keeper took the goal kick and punted it long.
The referee checked his watch.
Vila Nova tried one more desperate attack. But as the ball went out for a throw-in, the whistle blew.
Fweeeeee! Fweeeeee! Fweeeeeee!
Halftime.
The players walked slowly off the pitch, shoulders slumped and heads down.
The boos continued, aimed directly at Gustavo. He kept his eyes on the ground as he walked toward the tunnel. He couldn't even look at anyone.
Leandro got up from the bench and followed the team to the locker room. His heart pounded in his chest. He truly hoped his second chance at life hadn't caused this streak of bad luck for Gustavo. That would be a wild butterfly effect.
The scouts had just watched Vila Nova fall apart, and their most talented winger crumble under pressure. But that meant something else too.
It meant the second half was wide open, and Leandro's chance was coming. And unlike Gustavo, Leandro wasn't playing for redemption. He was playing for survival.