The success of the previous day's scrimmage changed the camp's atmosphere. Ethan was no longer just another face in the crowd. During drills, he noticed that other players were giving him a second look. When he had the ball, they expected something clever to happen. He earned their respect, and it felt more meaningful than any trophy.
His new standing solidified during the video analysis session the next morning. The Head of Youth Development, the same serious man from the welcome meeting, ran the screen at the front of the lecture hall. He replayed the goal that Ethan had assisted for Marcus.
He paused the footage at the moment Ethan received the ball. "Right here," the coach said, pointing at the screen. "Most players in this situation would look for a simple pass to the wing. It's safe. It's easy." He clicked play again, then paused it as Ethan executed his feint and reverse pass. "But Matthews isn't looking for easy. He's looking for effective. Watch how this feint," he circled the defender Ethan drew out of position, "creates the passing lane. The weight of the pass is perfect. It lets the striker finish first-time. That is the difference between a good player and a great one: vision and execution."
Ethan felt a hot blush rise in his neck, but it came from pride, not embarrassment. Across the room, he saw Marcus watching the screen closely, his expression unreadable.
The next two days were a tough cycle of demanding training on the pitch and strategy lessons in the classroom. The physical toll was huge. Every player was dealing with sore muscles and minor injuries, but no one dared show weakness. Ethan felt the fatigue deep in his bones, yet his mind felt sharper than ever. His on-field partnership with Marcus grew with every drill, an unspoken understanding developing between them. They weren't friends, but they were a powerful team.
On the final evening before the camp ended, the anxiety in the dorms was thick. The next day would feature one last, full 11-a-side match—the last chance to impress before the cuts were made.
"Do you think you've done enough?" Leo asked quietly from his bed, breaking the silence in their room.
"I don't know," Ethan replied honestly. "I've just tried to play my game."
"You'll be fine," Leo said, forcing a smile. "They love you. I just hope I've shown them something."
The next morning, all fifty boys gathered for one last team meeting. The head coach stood before them holding a clipboard.
"This afternoon's match is your final audition," he said, his voice firm. "We will be playing Bibs versus Non-Bibs. I will now read the starting lineup for the Bibs team."
He began reading names, one by one. A goalkeeper from Arsenal. A right-back from Liverpool. The two center-backs were the towering captain from Westford and a ball-playing defender from Tottenham. The names were a roll call of the country's best.
"...in midfield," the coach continued, "Marcus."
A murmur went through the room.
"...and alongside him, Ethan."
Ethan's heart raced. He had made the starting XI for what was clearly the "A" team. He risked a glance at Marcus, who met his gaze with pure focus.
The coach finished reading the starters and then named the substitutes for the Bibs team. Leo's name was among them. Ethan caught the flicker of disappointment in his roommate's eyes, quickly covered by a supportive smile.
Ethan felt a surge of pride, but it was quickly tempered by the harsh reality. He had earned his spot, but it came at the expense of others, including his first friend at the camp. The final test was here. The whistle was about to blow on the most important game of his life.