From Arsenal to the Ball God Chapter 5: First Show of Brilliance

In the following days, Ma’el’s life gradually beca routine and steady.

Every day, he basically lingered in a few fixed areas, either training or eating, and he would return to the dormitory at night, wash up, and fall asleep deeply.

The overwork from training gradually made his body feel sowhat overwheld.

His whole body had multiple strains, and every training session required a long warm-up before daring to make any moves.

"At least I’m tired but happy."

He himself didn’t have any negative emotions; compared to others, he already had a good opportunity.

If he didn’t give his all, wouldn’t that be squandering what he had?

June 16th, Thursday, the U17 team’s morning training was focused on finishing ability.

It could also be called shooting specialized training.

The opportunity to showcase his skills finally arrived, and Ma’el stood spiritedly in line, waiting to begin.

"Goalkeepers warm up separately, the rest follow Captain Gilbert."

With a command from the head coach Hans, the players began to jog and warm up with their team captain, number 10, Gilbert, and quite a few started whispering.

"I heard soone has been staying at the training ground and gym all day recently?"

Soone quipped as if paving the way for soone.

As soon as he spoke, Ian imdiately chid in sarcastically, "Yeah, very diligent, you never see him in the dorm, he’s quit all entertainnt."

"Hard-working..."

Soone else comnted cynically, "Hope he can make it to the Premier League with hard work."

"What a joke."

Ian laughed while running, "If hard work could get you into the Premier League, then the world wouldn’t need talent; I think he’s about to leave the team, panicking."

"Leaving the team is good."

Another person glanced at Ma’el while smiling and shook his head, "I heard he eats and uses the club’s resources every day without spending a penny of his own; isn’t that just a pure parasite?"

Their voices were loud enough that almost everyone warming up could hear.

"Warm up properly!"

Captain Gilbert spoke up to stop them, clearly unable to listen any longer.

The few shut their mouths reluctantly, then made faces as if struggling not to laugh, utterly inexplicable.

Ma’el directly ignored these ’smart’ guys; arguing with such people lowers your status and is unnecessary.

Let them forever dwell in their own world, playing with their worthless sense of superiority.

He always had to move forward, soon they wouldn’t be on the sa level anymore.

Being able to laugh now is nothing; consistently being able to laugh is true capability.

The warm-up training quickly ended, and shooting practice began imdiately.

"Bang! Bang! Bang...!"

The first was high ball crossing header training, with team mbers on the flanks continuously sending crosses for the central players to challenge for headers and shoot.

"Great pass! It’s mine!"

"Ah... mine!"

"No worries, keep going!"

Encouragent and disappointnt were voiced together, and everyone was filled with enthusiasm and excitent.

Ma’el’s performance in this training wasn’t impressive, as heading had never been his strong suit.

If needed in the future, he could grind out the skill level for heading, and practice to have a good heading skill.

For now, it’s better to focus on power and long shots.

After the header training ended, it was imdiately followed by the low ball tapping training, dynamic shooting in the penalty area training, and high-speed one-on-one shooting training.

Ma’el’s performance was also average, nothing remarkable.

"Next up, long-range shooting!"

It wasn’t until Hans announced the long shot training that he finally lifted his head, his eyes becoming confident.

Team captain Gilbert was the first to stand by the edge of the penalty arc, waiting for Hans by the ball pile to pass him the ball, to stop and shoot.

"Boom!"

Hans delivered a ground ball, Gilbert quickly followed, stopping the ball facing the goal, then shot with a dipping technique.

This was a clever shot, not overly forceful, but with a tricky angle.

The team’s number one goalkeeper Hopkins imdiately beca as if facing a great enemy, diving to save, but in the end, he was a step too late, as the ball slipped past his fingertips.

"Swish!" A crisp net sound rang out, and the scoring Gilbert leaped high, celebrating with a rising punch.

"Nice!"

Hans gave him an appreciative look, and many players smiled and applauded.

On normal days, their training atmosphere was quite good, just a few ruined the harmony.

"Bang! Bang! Bang...!"

Next, players ran to the designated position, completing their shots one after another.

The scoring rate was about one to one.

Hans’s reminders occasionally echoed throughout the training ground: "Supporting foot is too far back, is that how you usually shoot?

"Defender technique! My grandma shoots more accurately!

"Not bad, but be more confident! Tense your foot, don’t relax! You’re all 17 years old, I don’t want to have to remind you of these details every day."

As he spoke, he pushed another ball towards the edge of the penalty arc.

A figure wearing the number 31 jersey suddenly rushed out, took a glance at the general direction of the goal, then planted his supporting foot, and quickly folded his right leg to strike!

"Boom!!"

With a dull thud, the grass under his foot exploded as the football streaked through the air towards the goal, difficult to capture with the naked eye.

The team’s first goalkeeper Hopkins had just lowered his center of gravity and looked back in disbelief, not getting a chance to judge the direction of the shot.

Only his instincts turned his head to the right.

"Clang!!" He saw the ball hit the inside of the crossbar, causing the entire goal fra to vibrate violently, then changing direction and brushing into the net.

The scene imdiately fell into a deathly silence, everyone seed too shaken by this shot to speak.

It’s not that no one used direct foot strikes today, and it’s not that no one had scored using this technique.

But the speed of this ball was incredibly fast, over 100 mph?

And the angle, near perfection?

"Oh...!"

Hopkins was the first to open his mouth wide, quickly turning his head to look at the shooter, "Ma’el, you...?"

Soone helped him complete the sentint, "Too exaggerated!"

"Even if first-team goalkeeper Fabianski were standing there just now, he might not have been able to stop it."

Captain Gilbert frowned a bit, then shook his head vigorously, "No, not might, but definitely not!"

Ian and a few comrades glanced at each other in a daze, but soon they had a new excuse, "Lucky shot, right?"

"Certainly lucky, I can sotis hit perfect angles too, and I’m a defender."

"He doesn’t have that level, otherwise he would’ve renewed his contract already."

"Again!" Head Coach Hans didn’t give the crowd a chance to argue, quickly passing another ground ball towards Ma’el’s position.

With such strong striking....... it didn’t seem like a fluke, he wanted to see again.

Ma’el watched the incoming ball, lowered his center of gravity, and after stopping the ball a step to the right with the outside of his foot, his body followed again, with his left foot stepping beside the ball.

"Boom!!"

Just like countless tis in practice day and night, his right leg folded again and kicked out, violently sending the ball toward the goal.