"Higgins clears it... it bounces off Evans’ head, changes direction! Oh... it’s in!!"
In the comntary box, the Sky Sports comntator excitedly raises his hands again, imrsing himself in the emotion, "A goal by Ma’el! A powerful strike! A powerful strike inside the box!"
"Absolutely brilliant! He’s scored twice in this match and has an assist as well! Created three goals single-handedly!"
"Four to one! Preston had just seen a glimpse of hope to equalize, and then Ma’el kicks it right back to square one! Garrispeed must be thrilled, wondering who from Arsenal found him such a capable player!"
You could say there was a bit of luck in this goal.
But the football field is always full of these lucky breaks, and no matter what, Ma’el seized the opportunity and held it firmly!
The seventeen-year-old young general controlled the match, anyone who saw it would be filled with excitent and envy!
"Oh....!"
On the pitch, under the high-pitched cheers, Ma’el is bathed in the fans’ gaze akin to a pilgrimage, sprinting towards the corner flag.
He roars as he slides on his knees, feeling the softness of the grass beneath, releasing everything with abandon.
Scoring a goal, his body instinctively led him here, giving him endless energy, as if unlocking so hidden power and physical ability from within.
Celebrating is like this, it’s the most exhilarating mont ingrained in people’s bones.
"Co on....!"
Gilbert rushes over, leaping high to chest-bump Ma’el, unleashing his emotions, "Two goals! Oh ho! Bro, you’re amazing!"
Other teammates quickly arrive, either high-fiving Ma’el or hugging him.
Behind their celebration group are the Preston players, heads down, hands on hips, as if in a completely different world from the Sheffield United players, a contrast of ice and fire.
This often happens on the football field, one side’s sadness highlights the other’s joy.
"Who was marking him?" a Preston player spreads his hands, face full of bitterness.
"Don’t know, your defense is always as terrible as ever," a forward player returns with a shrug and a complaint.
"Don’t you have any responsibility?" a defender retorts.
They erupt into infighting, indeed, just after scoring a goal to lift their spirits, they faded like a brief dream.
Falling from heaven to hell!
Sideline, Landes wants to say sothing, but a feeling of powerlessness wells up, he finally sighs and returns to the coach’s seat.
......
"Clap, clap, clap, clap....!"
In the 60th minute, the formidably playing Ma’el is subbed off by Mark Yates, and applause erupts around the stadium.
Ma’el’s performance has completely conquered the stadium, fans are generous with their praise, many giving him thumbs up.
Ma’el raises both hands, clapping, smiling as he acknowledges the fans.
It must be said, this feels really good, everyone standing for you, cheering you off the field.
His debut at Bramall Lane is near perfection, he played at the highest level, with stats even he didn’t anticipate.
goals, 1 assist!
Calculate the bonuses, it’s 6,500 pounds, plus 3,000 pounds for the win, nearly breaking 10,000!
Outstanding achievents indeed.
"I’m a bit envious of you."
Garrispeed greets him at the sideline, eyes full of admiration, "Keep it up, kid, your future is definitely in the Premier League, the Champions League, the World Cup."
This might seem exaggerated now, but he doesn’t care, he just wants to express his high hopes for Ma’el.
"I hope so." Ma’el smiles, giving him a customary hug, then sits down on the bench, surrounded by Jorson.
Jorson sits beside him, face beaming with surprise and excitent, opening his mouth several tis to say sothing, but unable to find the words.
"Mr. Jorson."
Ma’el looks at him, sincerely saying, "Thank you for bringing to this field, allowing to enjoy all of this.
"Rember what you said before? I can answer you now, during my loan, I will give my all to the club."
"Good, good, good!" Jorson says three tis in a row, too excited to know what to do.
......
"Whistle, whistle, whistle!"
The referee blows the final whistle, ultimately, Garrispeed’s first match in charge ends with Sheffield United’s 4-1 victory over Preston!
This is a perfect debut, for everyone.
After a few words with the players coming off the field, Ma’el heads to the dressing room to shower and change.
"Hey! Ma’el!"
A voice calls from behind, he turns and sees a staff mber with a badge. The person quickly smiles when Ma’el looks back, "You are Man of the Match, you need to do an interview."
Man of the Match... Ma’el smiles slightly, accepting the interview invitation gladly.
Led by the staff, he arrives by the advertising boards, surrounded by seven or eight caras, several microphones pushed to his mouth.
From not being noticed to becoming sowhat famous, it only took two matches.
A staff mber hands him a small crystal trophy engraved with ’Championship Man of the Match’, beautifully designed.
Ma’el plays with the crystal trophy, feeling a surge of emotions, this is just the first ti, in the future, he will have countless more.
He wants to collect every award, from Man of the Match to Player of the Month, from Player of the Month to Player of the Season!
Then gather all these trophies to create a room of his own honors!
Surely, any ti he looks back in the future, the surge of emotions from when he won will be a beautiful mory.
"How do you feel?" a Sky Sports microphone-toting journalist asks.
"Pretty good."
Ma’el raises an eyebrow, shrugging with a smile, "The first ti is always morable, whether it’s the first goal or the Bramall Lane debut, both are impressive.
"And when they happen together, it’s unforgettable."
The Sky Sports journalist nods, stepping back with a smile, while a BBC reporter thrusts a microphone forward, "Four rounds into the season, with 2 goals and 3 assists, in such little playing ti.
"What’s your goal for this season? Or do you have any expectations for your personal performance?"
Ma’el thinks for a mont, then looks around the fans’ stands, saying indulgently, "I hope to win more gas, the feeling of winning is addictive.
"As for personal goals, I’ll set a small one first, I hope to achieve 10 league goals and 10 league assists."
This remark startles many journalists, double ten statistics... it’s a big declaration, young people do dare to speak.
Seeing Ma’el’s earnest expression, a reporter pursues further, "It’s a nice goal, but have you considered that maybe your early success is because opponents don’t know you well.
"If all teams have studied you thoroughly, it won’t be easy to score or assist in the Championship."
"I know."
Ma’el nods, brushing his hair before answering with a smile, "But have you thought, it’s impossible for to stand still, I will definitely improve."
Saying this, he raises the crystal trophy in his hand, squeezing through the journalists, "Thank you, you will see."
Many journalists turn to watch his back, a figure exuding youthful exuberance, a sense of invincibility.
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