CHAPTER 67— "Cold Air, Hot Football"
Saturday arrived with the kind of winter sky that looked frozen in place—pale, heavy, unmoving. The Marseille academy pitch glistened with a thin crust of frost, and every breath Kweku took came out in thick white clouds. Players stamped their cleats on the ground to stay warm.
Their opponent today was Stade Rennais' U-18 side—fast, technical, well-drilled. A team known for pressing relentlessly and punishing mistakes. Coach Bernard had reminded them all week:
"Be calm under pressure. They will squeeze you. Stay disciplined."
During warm-ups, Louis jogged beside Kweku.
"Nervous?"
Kweku exhaled slowly. "A little."
"Good. Means you care."
Across the pitch, the Rennes players wore black gloves and matching thermal undershirts, moving in synchronised patterns. They looked sharp. Confident.
Bernard gathered the Marseille boys in a tight huddle.
"Listen," he began. "We respect Rennais, but we do not fear them. We match their intensity. Kweku—control the rhythm. Louis—support him. Antoine, stretch them on the left. Jean-Luc, be ready to finish. Defenders, no silly fouls."
He scanned their faces.
"Play smart. Play together."
The referee whistled.
Kickoff.
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First Half
"And we begin here at the Marseille training centre—Marseille U-18 versus Stade Rennais U-18!" the commentator announced through the stadium speakers. "It's freezing, but both teams look fired up for this match."
Rennes started quickly, pressing high with three forwards cutting passing lanes. Kweku dropped deep to help the defenders play out from the back.
The ball rolled to him—
Immediately two Rennes players closed in.
He slipped the ball between them with a quick feint, and the crowd murmured in appreciation.
"Good composure from Mensah early on. Rennes pressing, but he handles it well."
He found Louis, who switched the play wide. Antoine charged down the flank, but Rennes recovered quickly, forcing a throw-in.
Marseille tried building again.
Again Rennais pressed.
Again Kweku had to wriggle free.
In the 9th minute, Marseille nearly paid for a mistake. Their right-back miscontrolled a pass, gifting Rennes possession.
"Chance for Rennais—onto the edge of the box—shot!"
Ayoub, Marseille's keeper, dove full stretch.
Saved.
Kweku's stomach tightened. This team wasn't Montpellier. Rennais weren't waiting; they were hunting.
Louis jogged over. "We need to stop losing the ball in our half."
"I know," Kweku said, wiping his breath from his sleeve. "Let's slow the game down."
And they did.
Kweku began dropping between the centre-backs, giving himself more space. Rennes pressed, but he released the ball earlier, avoiding traps.
"Mensah orchestrating from deep now—smart adjustment from Marseille."
In the 15th minute, he played a sharp diagonal to Antoine, who chested it down and cut inside.
"Antoine shoots—deflected—corner!"
Marseille grew in confidence.
The corner curled in toward the near post. Louis flicked the ball with his head—
Just wide.
"Next time," Louis muttered.
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Rennes Strike First
Rennes hit back in the 22nd minute.
A quick one-two split Marseille's midfield. Their winger burst down the right, crossed early, and the Rennes striker nodded it past Ayoub.
"GOAL! Stade Rennais take the lead! A well-worked move down the right. Marseille caught flat-footed."
The Rennes players sprinted to the corner flag, celebrating as if it were a cup final.
Marseille's shoulders drooped.
But Kweku clapped loudly. "Heads up! We stay in this. Come on!"
Coach Bernard cupped his hands around his mouth.
"Kweku, higher! Press with Jean-Luc! Antoine—track back earlier!"
The game restarted, and suddenly Marseille found urgency.
Antoine ran at his marker. Jean-Luc battled for loose balls. Louis intercepted passes aggressively.
Rennes, however, kept control.
"They're a top academy for a reason," the commentator noted. "Marseille must stay patient. This is a real test for their young side."
---
A Chance for Marseille
In the 34th minute, Kweku finally created something from nothing.
He received the ball just inside the Rennes half. A defender rushed in. Kweku dragged the ball behind his leg, spun, and accelerated forward.
The crowd buzzed.
"Brilliant turn from Mensah! He's away!"
He drove toward the box. A second defender closed in. Kweku feinted left, slipped right, and fired a low pass to Jean-Luc.
Jean-Luc shot—
Blocked.
The rebound rolled to Antoine, who smashed it—
Saved by the keeper.
Kweku put his hands on his head.
So close.
Louis patted him. "Keep feeding us."
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The Equaliser
The breakthrough came in the 41st minute.
Antoine was fouled near the corner flag. Free kick.
Louis stepped up to take it.
"Jean-Luc," he whispered, "far post."
Kweku positioned himself at the edge of the box.
Louis swung the ball in—a curling, dipping delivery.
Jean-Luc rose.
Header.
GOAL.
The net rippled, and the stands erupted.
"Equaliser for Marseille! Beautiful delivery from Louis, and Jean-Luc finishes with a towering header! 1–1!"
Kweku pumped his fist, shouting, "Let's go!"
Jean-Luc ran to the corner flag, sliding on the frosty grass. Louis chased him, laughing.
The momentum had shifted.
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Closing Minutes of the Half
Rennais tried to respond, forcing two corners, but Ayoub handled both well.
Kweku nearly assisted again with a quick through-ball, but Antoine couldn't reach it in time.
The referee checked his watch—
Whistle.
Halftime.
1–1.
The players jogged off, breathless, steam rising off their backs.
In the locker room, Bernard stood near the whiteboard.
"This is good," he said calmly. "But listen—Rennes will start fast again. You must control the middle, Kweku. Don't let them dictate tempo. Louis—support transitions. Antoine—your pressing is crucial."
He looked at the whole team.
"Stay focused. Stay compact. And be brave on the ball."
Louis nudged Kweku. "Ready?"
Kweku inhaled deeply. "I have to be."
They stood, laced their boots tighter, and walked back into the freezing air.
The cold hit instantly, sharp and unforgiving.
But the fire in their chests kept them warm.
"Second half coming up! Can Marseille take control, or will Rennes show their quality?"
The whistle pierced the air.
And the battle resumed.
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