While Michael was still thinking things over, a sudden burst of noise erupted from the main training pitch.
During the practice match, the backup goalkeeper had been injured.
Raul hurried over to deal with the situation, and John quickly dragged Michael along, hoping they might still find an opening.
An idea flashed through Michael's mind.
He could play goalkeeper!
Amid the shouts from the players, Michael watched as the backup keeper was carried off the pitch.
The poor guy had smashed his head against the post making a save, and blood was pouring from the wound.
Judging by the look of it, he definitely had a concussion.
With no reserve goalkeepers left, the training match ca to a screeching halt.
Michael thought, 'Thanks for the opportunity, brother. I won't let your bloody sacrifice go to waste.'
He stepped forward. "Mr. Raul, I think I can try playing in goal."
Raul stared at the eager kid, unable to figure out what the hell Michael was thinking.
"Michael, you can play goalkeeper?" Raul asked, his voice full of doubt.
"Of course. I actually started out as a keeper before switching to midfield later. If you don't believe , let try."
Michael was talking complete nonsense with a dead-straight face.
Raul glanced at John, torn between believing him and calling his bluff.
John was just as confused.
'What the hell is going on? Michael can play in goal too? his uncle never ntioned that!'
Even so, John instinctively nodded.
"All right, I'll let you try it," Raul said. "But after this, you won't get another trial in any other position."
Raul was already doing the ntal math.
Since things had reached this point, he might as well roll with it and do John a favor.
"Thank you, Coach!" Michael bead.
As he squeezed into the goalkeeping gear, his brain went into overdrive.
'With this cheat ability, playing keeper should be a breeze right? The only bitch of it is that I only get one sixty-second do-over. If it works, it works. If it doesn't, I'll pack my shit and find another club.'
Decision made, Michael stood in front of the net.
He had never played football from this angle before.
Staring at the backs of all his teammates gave him a surreal feeling.
The referee blew the whistle, and the match resud.
The B team players seed to sense that their new keeper was not exactly reliable. For the sake of their own chances of making the squad, the defenders and midfielders raised their intensity.
They fought desperately for every ball, terrified of letting the A team anywhere near the box.
For a while, Michael's goal didn't face a single threat.
This made Michael anxious.
Wasn't this supposed to be the reserve squad?
Why couldn't the starting eleven break through?
They were giving him no chances at all!
How was he supposed to prove himself and secure a contract if he never got to make a damn save?
Still, the A team were the starters for a reason.
After tweaking a few things at the back, they steadied the match and launched a proper attack.
Their midfield and forwards linked up, three players pushing forward in sync. A series of quick one-twos shredded the B team's defensive line.
The left winger carried the ball to the edge of the box while a teammate charged into the middle.
Danger exploded in front of the goal.
Michael's heart jumped.
'Here it cos!'
The winger squared the ball into the center.
The central player dummied it, letting it run across the face of the goal, and the right winger arriving at the far post smashed a first-ti shot.
The ball flew like a missile into the top-right corner.
Michael stood in front of the goal without reacting at all.
Goal!
A brilliant move and a superb finish.
Michael slowly turned his head and looked at the ball resting in the net.
'Yep. My reflexes really are dogshit. Can't keep up with that.'
He silently chanted in his mind, 'Rewind twenty seconds!'
The scene flashed back to the opponents were still combining passes through the midfield.
He had gone back a little too far.
There was no ti to bitch about it, though. Michael locked his eyes on the right winger and braced himself in advance.
The shot ca.
The ball flew straight toward the top-right corner! But this ti, Michael punched it away with both fists.
The whole pitch was stunned.
But before his own defenders could react, the A team's striker rushed in and blasted the rebound.
The ball brushed past Michael's shoulder and crashed into the net.
Goal again!
Michael had parried the first shot using an incredibly unorthodox technique and was still tangled up by the post adjusting his gloves.
'Damn it!'
He chanted again. 'Rewind three seconds!'
In an instant, Michael was dropping through the air, and the opposing striker had already swung his foot for the follow-up volley.
Michael threw his fist out and swatted the ball away for a second ti.
Michael hamred the ball clear.
'Holy shit, it actually worked!' he thought, secretly thrilled.
Ti rewind could be split into smaller uses!
The loose ball bounced out and was imdiately hoofed away by a frantic defender.
"Hey, mate, you're seriously incredible."
"That double save was like pri Buffon!"
Listening to his teammates praise him, Michael kept a calm face. "Don't worry about the backline. I'll protect our goal."
In reality, he was celebrating like a madman inside.
'I've got a cheat code running. Of course I can do whatever the hell I want!'
Seeing how composed Michael looked, his teammates felt a deep respect for him.
For so reason, this lad gave them a strange sense of security.
...
Far off on the sidelines, Raul and John had caught the back-to-back saves.
Their expressions were complicated.
To sum it up: both n were stunned.
"Incredible, John. You brought a complete player! My squad just happens to need a quality goalkeeper," Raul said, unable to hide his grin.
"That's Michael for you," John fired back, seizing the chance. "A miracle kid from China. My old friend, you won't regret signing him. Santander was our first stop, i ca here with sincerity."
Raul rubbed his thick beard and narrowed his eyes at the B team's penalty box.
Michael's saves were impressive.
The only issue was that his technique looked far from professional—honestly, it looked a little strange. Perhaps it was because he had not played in goal for a long ti. As the head coach, Raul had to consider the bigger picture.
He would keep watching.
...
At that mont, the B team passed the ball around the backline until it rolled to Michael's feet.
Michael glanced up and noticed their lone striker making a run toward the halfway line, completely ignored by the A team.
'You're the one!'
Michael launched a long pass that dropped several yards ahead of the striker.
It wasn't that the A team had missed the run.
It was just that no goalkeeper in the past possessed the footwork to pick out that kind of high-quality long ball.
Today, there was one.
The ball dropped beautifully into the striker's open path. After waiting so long for a chance this good, the B team striker burst forward at full speed.
He was through on goal.
The A team defenders chased desperately, but it was already too late.
The striker went one-on-one with the keeper, rounded him, and calmly slotted it into the empty net.
His teammates rushed over to celebrate.
The striker pointed in Michael's direction, making it clear who that goal partly belonged to.
Michael gave a wave from his box.
"This kid keeps surprising ," Raul muttered. "After the match wraps up, we'll go to the sporting director's office and hash out the contract properly."
Joy rushed through John's veins when he heard that.
'Brilliant! Michael, you bastard, you did it!'
What neither of them knew was that Michael's performance was only halfway done.
The A team players did not look happy.
Being behind against the reserve squad during training was not sothing anyone wanted to explain in the locker room later.
The starters grew tense, and their tackles beca more aggressive.
An A team forward received the ball in midfield, beat two players, and shifted it out wide. The winger collected the pass and neatly skipped past a defender.
He drove aggressively toward the byline.
Then ca a sharp cutback into the box.
An A team midfielder made a run into the box to receive the pass, but before he could adjust, the B team's defensive midfielder ca crashing in from behind and knocked him down.
The referee blew his whistle and pointed straight at the spot.
Penalty!
"My fault. That was my fault." The defensive midfielder kept apologizing in Michael's direction.
Michael waved his hand, signaling for him not to worry.
That simple gesture moved the stressed midfielder deeply.
The A team geared up to take the penalty.
Michael didn't even bother looking at the taker. He crouched on his line, bouncing lightly from side to side, before raising both hands and spreading them out in so bizarre stance.
'Shoot wherever you want. I'll just rewind your ass.'
Staring at the strange pose in front of him, the penalty taker gave a cocky, dismissive smile.
Three...
Two...
One...
He stepped up and shot.
The ball floated gently toward the middle.
A Panenka.
The bastard actually tried a Panenka!
Michael hadn't moved a muscle. He watched the ball drift toward him, then simply reached out and caught it.
The penalty taker's smile vanished.
Apparently, the smile had transferred owners, because Michael was now staring the guy down with a massive grin!
The B team erupted in cheers. The defensive midfielder kept thanking Michael over and over.
"What's with that bizzare stance!"
"That was brilliant, mate! You have to teach that stance soti."
His teammates ca over one after another to high-five him.
The A team's side was brutal.
"Why the hell are you trying tricks at a ti like this?"
"Yeah, idiot, we're still losing."
While the penalty taker was being roasted by his own teammates, their captain stepped forward.
"All right, cut it out, everyone. The B team's new keeper has a strong ntality. But we are the starters, and it's ti to show them what real tactics look like."
Fired up by their captain, the A team regained their focus and pushed forward, determined to turn the score around.
In the next few attacks, two of their efforts directly threatened Michael's goal, but both shots whistled wide.
Then, during the final counter-press right before full-ti, the B team's defensive midfielder made another mistake.
He was robbed by an A team forward in his own half.
The forward quickly shifted the ball wide and sprinted into the box.
Receiving the pass, the left winger accelerated and shook off his marker. A clean, sharp run to the byline.
Then he whipped in a deadly cross.
The ball violently curved through the air, heading straight for the danger zone. Inside the box, the A team had three players attacking the delivery.
Contact.
The A team striker got there first and headed the ball toward the goal!
'What the hell?!'
Just a split second before the ball crossed the line, Michael triggered a three-second rewind and threw himself across the goalmouth to save it.
Then ca the second ball, another headed follow-up aid straight for the bottom corner.
'Are you shitting ? Again?!'
Rewind three seconds.
Michael parried it again.
He hadn't even caught his breath before the third attacker arrived!
A cheeky backheel flick from a near-impossible angle.
Michael burned another three seconds.
This ti, because his positioning was shot, all he could do was throw his body sideways and block the path of the ball with his own ass.
That was the pathetic limit of how far his limbs could stretch.
And by so miracle, he saved it again!
Again, and again, and again.
A point-blank triple save.
Michael had crashed down into the six-yard box, denying three lethal attempts in one chaotic sequence.
The forward who tried the backheel buried his face in his hands, staring at the goalmouth as if so unholy demon was guarding the net.
Today, Michael was a brick wall.
No matter who took the shot, nobody was getting past him!
Right as the ball rolled away, the referee blew the final whistle.
The match was over.
The players imdiately gathered around Michael, showering him with praise.
"You're like Buffon and Čech rolled into one, mate!"
"Fuck off, he's even better than Pusado!"
"That triple save was the best thing I've seen in the last few seasons."
The A team captain, Seth, walked over. "Kid, you're good! Especially that last sequence. Miguel's flick was nasty, but your save was just as good."
Michael modestly shrugged, saying that as a keeper, he was only doing his job.
Seeing how humble he was, Seth just laughed, thoroughly impressed.
"Boys, let's welco our new brother the proper way!"
Bursting through the crowd, Oriol, the stressed defensive midfielder, grabbed Michael first.
In seconds, the squad joined in, hoisting Michael up and tossing him into the air over and over.
With just one training match, Michael had completely won over his teammates.
Raul and John watched the scene with satisfied smiles.
John, especially, was grinning so hard his wrinkles deepened like ravines; he looked like a man who had just stumbled onto a gold mine!
He had already prepared himself to take Michael to another club tomorrow.
Who would have thought they would end up getting such an unexpected surprise?
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