A few days later, like every other day, John woke up early. The sun was just rising as he was already on the field — alone. The crunching grass beneath his boots, the cool air, the sound of his breathing echoing in the emptiness — all of it had become an inseparable part of his routine. Every morning, he came to remind himself where he had started and where he was going.
His steps had become more determined, his movements smoother, and his gaze deeper. John was no longer just a goalkeeper. He had become the heart of the team — an embodiment of trust, resilience, and belief.
And during those days, a new announcement shook the team.
The academy's leadership had decided to register them in the regional championship. This meant tougher opponents, larger audiences, and, most importantly — a chance to rise beyond the local level.
"This is our moment, boys," the coach said during a meeting. "John has shown us what it means to believe in your path. Now it's our turn to prove that together, we can reach even higher."
The team prepared with incredible intensity. John became not only a defensive wall but also a source of motivation. After every training session, he stayed behind, helping newcomers, correcting their positions, and sharing his experience.
But moving forward is never easy.
In the first match of the championship, they faced "Metra Steel" — a club known for its aggressive attacking style and physically strong squad. The game began with tension. "Metra Steel" immediately took control. They tried to pressure John — churning the turf, rushing the penalty box every chance they got.
Near the end of the first half, during a corner kick, one of the opponents deliberately collided with John. He fell. Pain shot through his arm. But he didn't say a word. He stood up, clenched his fists, and his eyes turned to stone.
The second half was heroic. Despite the pain, John kept saving the team — again and again. There was fire in his eyes — a kind of determination that spread to everyone around him. The match ended in a 1–0 victory for them.
After the win, a medical check-up revealed that John had strained a ligament in his arm. The coach said he needed two weeks of rest. But John insisted on at least attending theoretical sessions, watching his teammates, and offering advice.
So, while others ran on the field, John sat in the corner — notebook in hand. He wrote — observing every movement, analyzing, thinking. That's when he realized his journey wasn't only about physical strength. He needed to become a complete player — both in body and in mind.
When he returned to the field, everyone noticed something — John had changed. He gave clearer instructions, predicted the opponent's actions, organized the defense like a commander on a battlefield.
One evening after training, the team's young backup goalkeeper, Leo, approached him.
"John, what do you think? I'll never be like you. I mess up in every match…"
John smiled. He sat beside Leo.
"They told me the same thing," he said. "But do you know what the difference is? I never gave up. If you believe in your path, your mistakes will become your teachers. And one day, you'll inspire someone else."
Leo looked at John, eyes shining. Those words changed him.
Time passed. The team kept winning. And John's name spread throughout the city's sports community. The press began writing about him: "The Impenetrable Wall." "John Vermog — a hero of the new generation." But he remained unaffected. His goal was something else.
One day, after training, John received an unexpected invitation. The coaching staff had nominated him to take part in the national youth team trials.
He stared at the letter for a long time.
It was a new door. But also — a great challenge. He would have to leave his team for a while. He'd have to prove himself in a new environment — among unfamiliar players and high competition.
That night, he sat in his room and opened his old notebook.
> "The path is changing direction. I don't know what's waiting ahead, but I know I must go. Because those who want to grow must leave their comfort behind."
The decision was made.
Two weeks later, he was with the national training camp. Everything was new — the coaches, the rules, the playing style. But John adapted quickly. During the first session, he saved three nearly unstoppable shots. The coaches began to take him seriously.
At the end of the training camp, he was called in.
"John, we want to see you in the main squad for a few international matches. But remember — this is just the beginning. The competition is intense. True strength isn't shown through moments of brilliance, but through consistency."
John nodded again.
And at that moment, he understood:
His dream was no longer just a dream. It had become a path — paved with sweat, pain, and daily self-discipline.
When he returned home, he wasn't welcomed with applause, but with the smiles of his friends, his father's quiet gaze, and the silent embrace of his old stadium.
John lifted his head, and right there — alone — he said aloud:
"I'm not finished. I've just begun. And ahead of me lie hundreds of goals I must defend."
That night, he opened his notebook and wrote:
> "I am John Vermog. My journey is long. Sometimes dark, sometimes painful. But I walk it with my head held high. Because my goal is greater than myself. I am here to learn, to win, and one day — to inspire others, just as I was once inspired."