August 14, Southern France, Aix.
At 7:10 in the evening, only twenty minutes left until Cardiff City's home match against Sheffield United.
In an old residential building, a family of five has prepared chilled beer, abundant snacks, and is waiting eagerly.
"How much longer until it starts?"
A middle-aged woman, busy serving dishes, looks a bit tired but remains spirited, "I heard from someone at the supermarket, playing in the Championship at 17 is quite the talent."
"Talent?"
The middle-aged man on the sofa beams with pride, "First professional league match, starting in the lineup, 'talent' doesn't even begin to cover it; our nephew is a prodigy!"
"Clément! Clément!"
The third child, Eva, ran out from the room, calling her father's name, looking aggrieved and anxious, "The pizza brother gave me was eaten by sister, two slices!"
"Call me dad."
Clément said sternly, then his expression softened as he lovingly lifted her onto his lap, "A pizza that big, you couldn't finish it by yourself."
"Then why didn't she ask brother to buy her one? Why take mine?" Eva wiped her eyes, her voice innocent.
The elder sister and second brother emerged from the room, the former rolling her eyes slightly, "It was just two slices, we'll buy another one for you some other day."
The family's chatter filled the small room with warmth, a typical big family scene.
"So Ma'el can really earn £2500 a week now?"
The elder sister sat on the sofa, thinking of the £3000 Ma'el sent back recently, "Isn't that much more than what you and mom earn together?"
"We're just ordinary people,"
Clément chuckled, having put aside his pride, focused only on praising his nephew: "After Ma'el plays today, he'll be a small star, and this £2500 weekly pay will only go up."
He glanced at his wife, his eyes full of relief for letting Ma'el play soccer and some regret.
They almost stifled their nephew's talent.
His wife turned her head away, saying nothing, her past hesitations long forgotten.
"Brother! Brother!"
Suddenly, little Eva pointed excitedly at the TV, clapping and jumping, "Look, brother's out!"
The whole family turned to the screen, immediately spotting Ma'el, his expression serious, seemingly in the player's tunnel.
"Ma'el! An Arsenal youth product! Today is bound to be a memorable day for him!
"Kevin has placed enough trust in this young player, making him one of the rare few debutants to start!" The commentator's voice brought them into the thrilling match atmosphere.
One must admit, it's a profoundly mysterious feeling.
Someone once ordinary and even a bit reticent now seen on television, identity thoroughly transformed.
"Ah..." Eva opened her mouth wide, cheering with a smile.
Others refrained from reckless expressions, but their occasional body shivers from excitement mirrored Eva's emotions.
......
Korni Training Base, Arsenal U17 Dormitory.
With a series of door noises, everyone who got the message rushed out, heading eagerly to the youth team meeting room.
"Get out of bed! He's out on the field!"
"Championship's second round, our old... teammates! Ma'el has gotten a starting opportunity!"
"Hurry to the meeting room! Coach Hans is waiting for us there!"
Good-hearted ones didn't forget to share this joy with their teammates, knocking on doors for those who missed the news on their phones, "Not lying, check if you got a message from Coach Hans."
More sounds erupted, many jumping off their beds, scrambling to put on shoes.
Soon, over ten rushed out of the dormitory towards the meeting room, like a 100-meter dash.
On the way, someone expressed disbelief to others, "Unbelievable, they really got a chance."
"Yeah, and who would've thought, Ma'el would be the first to start?"
"Let's hurry! We'll be late for the 7:30 match!"
"Did Gilbert make the lineup?"
"He did, he did, doesn't matter, at this rate, we'll miss Ma'el's appearance!"
Some others, walking slowly with mixed feelings, showed either envy or disbelief, unchanged from before.
Ma'el's rapid rise repeatedly shattered their understanding, leaving them constantly disoriented, still thinking of him as that trial player.
If his ascent had been slower, allowing them more time to process, they wouldn't always feel this way.
Soon, those who arrived first saw Coach Hans pacing inside the room, unable to sit still with excitement and impatience.
"Sorry, I got the news late," Hans waved to the players, then slapped his right hand on his left palm, stumbling over his words: "Mainly, I... I didn't expect, Ma... Ma'el would start this match."
It wasn't a stutter, but rather excitement-induced speechlessness, "In... the last match against the National League, I didn't see either of them, I thought... they had become completely marginalized at the club."
The players shook their heads, indicating it was fine, taking seats in the meeting room, eyes fixed on the big screen.
There, a live broadcast of their U17 team's 'outstanding graduate' Ma'el was playing.
The logo in the top left corner was clear, this was the English Championship League!
......
Cardiff City Stadium, player tunnel.
'Huff huff' of breathing could be heard; Ma'el was adjusting his breathing, trying to remain focused and calm.
He held the hand of a small mascot with his right hand, surrounded by tall, strong Championship players, about to step onto the professional field.
"Beep beep!"
The main referee's whistle blew as three referees led the front-row players onto the field.
Ma'el numbly followed the Sheffield players ahead, his heart pounding uncontrollably, hearing only a buzz in his ears.
He walked through the dim player tunnel toward the lighted field, to where he had long awaited.
"Oh...!!!"
As he stepped out, the sounds around him became clear, his vision brightened, filled with the roar of fans and spotlights.
The over thirty-thousand-seat stadium was packed, an ocean of joy with waving arms, a paradise for football lovers.
He took to the field on shaky legs, muddling through the entrance ceremony, standing in his position.
"Go, go!!" came a shout from the substitutes bench, Gilbert, in a vest, waving at him.
Ma'el steadied himself a bit, knowing many he cared for were watching, he couldn't afford to embarrass himself on the field.
"Hoo..."
He took a deep breath, hearing fans start counting down the seconds.
"Ten... seven... three... two... one!!"
As the countdown ended, the referee standing on the center circle arc raised his right hand, blowing the whistle to start the whole match, "Beep!!"
This Championship second-round battle officially began!