2025-07-06, 01:36 PM - Word count:
Nyron Nosworthy threw his arms in the air. The jeering fans, the manager screaming from the touchline, the celebrations of the opposition - all of them cut through him like a knife. He blocked the noise out - really, he just wanted the ground to swallow him up.
After a managerless defeat to start the season, Port Royal had bounced back to dismantle PS Jakarta 4-0. Nyron hadn't had the best game of his life, but he had been part of an unstoppable attack. He'd felt good about himself coming out of that game. Everyone on Port Royal had - the goals flying in made the nerves melt away.
The nerves were what had surprised him the most - playing the game that he loved, Nyron never expected to feel this way. It was abundantly clear that an SSL career was on the line now. Morning to night, the attention felt relentless. Nyron had deleted his social media accounts to reduce distractions.
He'd felt pretty good coming into this game, away at Atlético Medellin. As the opposition throw in came, he'd outmuscled his opponent and won the ball inside his own box, calmly rolling it back to his keeper and... oh no. The striker had cut in front of his ball and Port Royal were 1-0 down. Everyone making noise around him aside, he didn't even want to look at his own teammates. This was a low point.
Had it been nerves? Maybe, but equally, he wasn't really used to defending on his own goal line. Inexperience, a lapse of concentration - however you dress it up, it was a mistake that he couldn't afford to make while auditioning for a professional career. Why did this sort of thing always seem...
"Nyron!"
The voice of his coach brought him back, he knew he had to acknowledge the gaffer. Nyron looked over to see him gesticulating wildly.
"Just clear the fucking ball!"
After a managerless defeat to start the season, Port Royal had bounced back to dismantle PS Jakarta 4-0. Nyron hadn't had the best game of his life, but he had been part of an unstoppable attack. He'd felt good about himself coming out of that game. Everyone on Port Royal had - the goals flying in made the nerves melt away.
The nerves were what had surprised him the most - playing the game that he loved, Nyron never expected to feel this way. It was abundantly clear that an SSL career was on the line now. Morning to night, the attention felt relentless. Nyron had deleted his social media accounts to reduce distractions.
He'd felt pretty good coming into this game, away at Atlético Medellin. As the opposition throw in came, he'd outmuscled his opponent and won the ball inside his own box, calmly rolling it back to his keeper and... oh no. The striker had cut in front of his ball and Port Royal were 1-0 down. Everyone making noise around him aside, he didn't even want to look at his own teammates. This was a low point.
Had it been nerves? Maybe, but equally, he wasn't really used to defending on his own goal line. Inexperience, a lapse of concentration - however you dress it up, it was a mistake that he couldn't afford to make while auditioning for a professional career. Why did this sort of thing always seem...
"Nyron!"
The voice of his coach brought him back, he knew he had to acknowledge the gaffer. Nyron looked over to see him gesticulating wildly.
"Just clear the fucking ball!"
