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[Ding New Mission Triggered: Fans Darling,]
(It is detected that the host is about to make his debut for a new team, and as a Singularity candidate making a memorable entrance is a must.)
'Hmm, almost forgot it existed,' I stated inwardly as I continued going through a couple of cone and ladder drills trying to raise my heart rate. It had been a while since I even bothered looking at the system other than talking to Eva there was no need. Looking at my slowly growing stats was like watching paint dry and became a headache after a while.
{You Excited?} Eva asked causing a small smile to appear on his face. 'Yeah, feel like I'm ready to explode, I just hope I won't make a dumb mistake because of this,' I replied as I proceeded to scoop up a ball and started juggling it with both feet as I continued to jog forward.
[FOOTBALL SINGULARITY SYSTEM]
TALENT ASSESSMENT: Grade - S
Singularity Points: 12400 -10,000 =2400
(Evaluation: A wunderkind in the truest sense, who has proven his ability to the world throw a boulder into a still pond)
[ USER STATS: Under 23 Grade]
Balance and Coordination: S
>Football Technique: S
>Game Intelligence: A
>Singularity Skills: MR ShowTime: Grade -A
*Silver Grade: Eagle King's Goal Sense (Passive)
*Silver Level Comeback Kid (Passive)
*Bronze Ankle Brace's (Passive)
*Bronze Heavy artillery (Active) "New"
- Improve shot power by 15% for attempts taking from outside the box. (4/4)
'The merger of Bronze Level Goal Sense and Eagle King's View was so random but well worth it.' I thought to myself as I came to stop balancing the ball on my left foot just in time to dodge the game ball that was sent flying off the field after Paderborn's Collins sent it flying with a slide tackle.
Ignoring the fan's dumbfounded reaction, I turned on my axis returning to the coaching area with Bellarabi. "You guys ready, you'll come on at the next dead ball situation." Bosz's stated as I proceeded to take off my tracksuit travelling my crimson kit underneath. Using a hairband, I tide my locks into a short ponytail before going through some last-minute stretching before approaching the side of Bosz.
"You Nervous kid?" he asked me causing me to turn my attention his way watching as the sun's lights illuminated his bald head. "A little, but the good kind boss," I replied seeing no need to lie as the tingling sensation that I'd get whenever I was ready for something big. It was like my mind and body decided to synch at that moment entering an optimal state much like a Formula 1 champion before a deciding Grand Prix.
"Good, I want you to use your speed and creativity down the left wing, link up with Bailey and Aránguiz create triangles just like in training," Bosz stated looking quite serious as he started pointing to different areas on the pitch, he wanted me to exploit. His aggressive attack-based philosophy perfectly suited my strengths, allowing me to integrate with the team rather quickly.
"You got that?" He questioned after finally giving me his last bit of instruction. Not sure why he thought I needed an info dump when all he wanted me to do was break down that left wing and connect with nearby teammates. "Good have some fun out there and welcome to the Bay Arena." He stated with a broad smile after seeing me nod before pushing me towards Bellarabi who was standing next to the fourth official.
The ball went out for a throw-in near the halfway line, providing the perfect opportunity for the substitutions. The fourth official raised his board: 22. Rakim Rex in, 10 K. Demirbay out and 38. Karim Bellarabi in, 15 J. Baumgartlinger. As the numbers on the substitution board lit up, a ripple of anticipation coursed through the BayArena. The home fans erupted in a mix of cheers and curious murmurs as the announcer's voice boomed through the stadium.
Rakim high-fived Demirbay as the forward stepped off allowing Rakim to jog toward the centre of the pitch, his crimson kit glistening under the afternoon sun. Each step sent a jolt of excitement through his body as the grass beneath his boots felt like a soft carpet. He felt a soft jump spring in his step but didn't get carried away with the feeling as he took his position just a couple of yards in front of Bailey.
The match soon resumed with a Paderborn throw-in, which saw Lars Bender and Tah fight with Antwi-Adjei who tried hard to retain control of the ball. That didn't last long though as the stronger Tah utilised his body to send him stumbling as he slickly took possession of the ball. Calmly passing the ball back to Hrádecký a quick sequence of passes ensued that sent both Mamba and Michel on a goose chase before the ball ended up with Wendell.
Rakim's first touch came almost immediately as Wendell threaded a pass down the wing skipping past the feet of Pröger. He controlled it seamlessly with the outside of his right foot without even looking at it as his gaze remained focused on Dräger in front of him who remained composed as he stood him up. Not panicking Rakim stared him down before performing a quick stepover with his left foot feinting a breakthrough down the left flank.
It worked as he got Dräger to bite before cutting inwards with his right accelerating a short distance before the German right back caught up to him. However, Rakim didn't battle it out with him as he suddenly performed a Ronaldo chop with his right boot sending it down the flank that Dräger had just opened up. He didn't follow after it though as the speedy figure of Leon Bailey appeared taking control of the ball as he raced down the wing.
Bailey wasted no time in driving forward, his blistering pace leaving the Paderborn right-back scrambling to recover. With Rakim shadowing close behind, Bailey cut back just after passing the edge of the box coming to a sudden stop. Ignoring Dräger who came to a sliding stop Bailey sent a crisp pass back to Rakim who was just a foot in front of the box.
Seeing the ball rolling his way and the figure of Strohdiek speeding to close him down he didn't bother taking a touch to control the ball. With a soft thud, he connected with the rolling using the outside of his black boot sending a chipped Trivela pass into the box aiming for the area in front of the far post. As the ball floated toward the far post, Rakim's eyes tracked its trajectory, and he could already feel the crowd's anticipation.
The angle was perfect and with the Paderborn defence scrambling to cover and clear the ball the figure he was aiming for appeared. From the edge of the six-yard box, Volland who had swapped positions with Havertz's came sliding in at full stretch, reaching out for the cross just as the ball was about to evade his outstretched leg. The connection was perfect, but the power was too much sending it rocketing towards the stands as it scuffed the side of the post.