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+---- Thread: The Wolfe of Istanbul #1 : The Wall (/showthread.php?tid=9543)
The Wolfe of Istanbul #1 : The Wall - Bloodless - 2026-05-08
Being a Striker is about one thing. Scoring.
If you want your team to win, then you just need to score more then the opponent. That philosophy had been engraved into Dante's heart since the moment he stepped onto the pitch and immediately began scoring. The difference in the academy league is that this is where everyone who was considered a genius faces a wall, a towering cliff face which you have no chance of ever reaching the top of. Some people grow wings and soar upwards, while others must take the slow climb and prove themselves. Some work together and find places in groups and teams, ascending upwards together, while other people give up and remain stuck in place for long periods of time before even attempting to climb the wall.
This metaphorical wall is something present for all athletes, and no two people share the exact same approach or finish, as differences in environment and philosophy shape the route they take. But Dante was stuck, not at the ground. Not on the wall. He was stuck at the top of the wall, grappling with the idea of chasing his dreams or helping his team win. The first couple games with Istanbul had gone horrible, as his team failed to score a single point. Yet game three with Dante Von Wolfe was different. He came out stronger, more refined, and ready to win. He still had some whiffs as all players inevitably do, but he didn't care. He made his impact with a clean pass given he had no shooting course and his teammate easily tapped the ball in, a simple play which got Dante on the stat sheet. He was so lazy and uncaring, he hadn't even noticed that his first goal of the season came against the strongest team in the league at the time, Stockholm ... not to mention that they had only drawn a single game and that was before Dante was even on Istanbul. They needed this win, or they'd be stuck in last place ... no, they needed a statement and being the Striker, that play had to come from him one way or another. His single pass had been the key to opening the flood gates en route to 3 goals in the first 10 minutes, and an overall shocking 5 - 2 upset victory. The last place team in the league vs the top ranked team in the league, and Istanbul dismantled them.
But as a Striker, as a player, as a person ... that wasn't enough. He wanted to score his own goals.
The next game was against Sydney and Dante was honestly bored, only because he wanted it to turn into a real slugfest or scoring. The reason? His cousin, Sei, was on the other team. Dante had seen the comments his cousin, his friend had made ... only in passing. He went into the game bored, unmotivated as usual ... but the moment he started facing off against Sei ... Dante decided to ascend the wall. That mental decision alone was enough and finally, the Wolf's talent was able to blossom for all to see. It wasn't necessarily a special goal, but it was quite elaborate. His teammate saw him in the box and delivered a shot-like pass, one which only a single player stepped back to receive ... one which only one player could reach. Aching legs burning with exhaustion from running, sweat dripping down his forehead, but he recalled that jump. Wasn't very high or anything, it just needed to be accurate enough to allow him to bump the ball away from the goalie. It wasn't as fun as slamming the ball in with power and finesse, but still it felt good to get a goal and lead his team to victory ... it actually ... felt great. He'd been involved in most plays during the game which lead to a goal, and finally he'd notched one for himself. Dante Von Wolfe had arrived.
The next game went much better for his team over all, as they got things going early. Dante slipped in between defenders moving up the pitch, all eyes on the wing where the ball was. He couldn't help but think that it wasn't supposed to be this easy, that Sei said these games would finally give him a challenge ... but why was no one tracking him effectively? Almost at the goal box his man took two steps more then Dante and the Striker fell back slightly, watching as his mark fell in line with the rest of the CB's ... which left Dante the perfect gap to run through. He'd helped Ronaldo out in the previous two games, and now it was time for Dante to open the flood gates once more. With speed and acceleration near the top of his peers, he rushed forwards and took an excellent low pass from the wing into the box and smacked the ball into the bar side of the net. It had only been 7 minutes of game time, and Dante was already on the scoresheet. As the announcer said, he was "Howling at the moon" at that point.
This win streak had lead to many of Istanbul's players shining, and of course Dante Von Wolfe was the catalyst for this with just consistent playing. He never tried too hard or too little, remained calm for his team even when he missed out on opportunities to score. He kept his eyes open, scanning for opportunities even when he desperately wanted to be the one to finish every play. There was a solid long, power shot during the week 8 match in which Dante saw the keeper moving towards out of the corner of his eye. He needed to throw it off ... this was a chance for not only his own selfish goal, but to make sure that his team scored and put themselves ahead early. Even if people called him a poacher, it didn't matter as he was showing results. He tipped the ball, adjusting it's angle away from the keeper and into the net. His team dominated another match, yet his inability to score in the previous match had annoyed him.
He attempted to ignore it ... to let those feelings wash away ... and usually they would. But this time ... something was different, his intuition telling him that if he wanted to become the best in the world this wasn't the way to do it even if it meant tearing himself down at this very moment. In week 9 Dante didn't score at all, and although he made some good plays, that irritation picked up and he finally gave in. He sat in his academy dorm room in complete and utter darkness. He didn't bother to read a book, to turn on a TV, to play games on his phone. Instead he slowly dismantled every play he'd made in the league, knowing that each one could have gone much better. From there he thought about what he did best, the way that he could improve everything else to make that one thing even better ... but it was too difficult for someone used to putting in as little effort as possible, so instead he just meditated. In the depths of his mind memories played out, and each play was able to be visualized much better, from a first person point of view. He couldn't just focus on one thing, he needed to make himself better as a whole. He didn't care about the title of genius, but he understood that for someone with talent he needed to just fix a few things, practice a little harder on his skills ... he just needed time and a little bit of patience. He knew where to start of course. Put more time into how he finished shots, so that he could take any kind of pass tossed his way and make it into a highlight reel worthy goal. That's where he would start.
He would rebuild his path to the top, one step at a time ... and sit atop an ever more grandiose wall.