2026-05-21, 06:23 AM - Word count:
(This post was last modified: 2026-05-21, 12:00 PM by Bloodless. Edited 1 time in total.)
The harsh midday sun poured down on Dante as he stood on the field with a ball at his feet. He hadn't shot a ball in 24 hours, a complete 360 turn from his normal tendencies ... as this damned sport was the only thing that the Wolfe cared about. But it wasn't a lack of interest which had stopped him from shooting the ball. No, it was the fact that Istanbul who had clawed their way into 2nd place within the Academy League and for the Second game in a row Dante had been held scoreless, but once again he made an impact via an assist ... not that he liked doing so in the first place. Dante Von Wolfe had been receiving criticisms as of late thanks to his goal-oriented style, how every post-game interview where he only scored an assist or missed a shot was all obsessively talking about scoring more goals. He didn't want to just keep talking about it, he wanted to actually score.
"The most goal-obsessed player in the league." @ReadySalted
"Wolfe playing for Jakarta in disguise." @Hoodz_91
"A failure of a Striker."
"I don't think it's the act of shooting that's been the problem..." @Riipsaw
"Wolfe off to the gulag again." @Hoodz_91
"May as well just play CAM."
"Wolfe is like your 12th man and that extra defender you need." @Jeanious
"If Von Wolfe passed then Istanbul would've scored." @Definia
These may have irked him, but they were far from unnerving the usually lazy genius. The Jakarta game had been one of this worst performances of the season, and after being on a 5 game heater it was certainly a disappointing, yet climatic fall from grace which saw Istanbul fall down below Jakarta on the table in the loss. Now standing on the field he was revisiting each play within his mind ... for as few key passes as Dante missed, his teammates had also missed opportunities to pass to him either to shoot or progress further up the field in the attack which made the young Striker all the more frustrated regarding the loss which had ended Istanbul's win streak and rendered him useless the majority of the match. He was able to improvise a bit, but eventually found himself needing to play back further then he would've liked in order to help pressure them back and clear the ball. He did manage assist 27 minutes into the game, but considering they lost 3 - 1 Dante didn't care about a single assist ... he cared that he felt utterly useless during the match.
Matchday #12
Dante woke up lazily as he usually does, stretching his arms above his head and unleashing a long yawn. He got up and exited his room heading to the bathroom to shower. Afterwards Dante changed into his clothes and walked into the common area/kitchen and made himself breakfast, saying hello to the teammates he shared the Academy Dorm with in a still groggy manner. He cleaned up after he finished eating and immediately went to the practice field. He wasn't looking to suddenly perform explosively ... no, he was trying to refine his skills and and make micro adjustments to his techniques. Dante's week or so between matches had been jam packed with reflection, training, visualization, and time spent in the weight room as he strived find himself. He wasn't bad at soccer. He had scored goals and assists (reluctantly). His play had lead to tangible results and was clearly working, however that loss to Jakarta had irritated him immensely. He kicked the ball with all his might from just outside the penalty box, watching it curve wildly before dipping to the ground and bouncing against the ground and shooting upwards in an unpredictable manner. He got another soccer ball and shot again. Then again. Then again. He was replicating the shot perfectly, so why did it feel so ... wrong? He didn't get an answer as the coach blew his whistle signaling that they were going to head inside and review tape and tactics one final time.
Game Start.
The rest of his day had seemingly passed by, and before he could even register what was happening Dante was on the pitch. Still, 20 minutes into the game Dante had done more passing then shooting, and eventually a play turned into a Stockholm counterattack which they converted into a goal. He could hear his coaches words in his head reminding him that it was important to keep his composure. He could hear the voices of his teammates on the pitch reassuring themselves that there was still plenty of time to even the score. Yet Dante just stood there and slowly tuned it all out, until even the sounds of the crowd faded away. It was just like when he was on the practice field, where it felt wrong. He felt that wall in front of him once again, but this time it was closer. Then it all came reeling back in an explosion of sound and irritation ... the only way to erase that feeling? Score one himself.
26 minutes into the game and the crowd still seemed to be reeling from the well executed Stockholm goal even though Istanbul had the ball. The tides seemed to be shifting however, when Ozzy managed to get the ball on a low cross and approach the goal but took the shot without putting much power into it. The moment it took him to trap the ball and shoot gave the goalie just enough time to react with a great save to knock the ball out of bounds. Corner kick. Another shot blocked. The next corner kick was also almost cleared, but Boudreaux being the closest man ran towards it uncontested. Knowing his role was to get in front of the goal fast, Dante sprinted down the center, took a pass to move the ball safely and instantly passed it back before timing a run into the box and volleying a low cross into the far side of the net with power. He felt it, something inside of him had clearly clicked and all those micro-adjustments he'd worked on, all the training in order to show the world his natural talent. It was blooming.
Just 5 minutes later Dante's team had the ball, recovering it near mid-field thanks to Boudreaux putting pressure on the right wing. Warhurst intercepted an inaccurate pass and quickly fired it to Boudreaux who was already reacting to the pass and make a run up-field. Ronaldo who was occupying a Striker spot up top with Dante, although positioned back more to act as an anchor on the attack received the pass quickly and in the matter of a few moments Istanbul was making plays and positioning themselves in Stockholm's half before their defence could get re-established. Dante was covered, but a step inside and he was free for a single moment to take the pass which he carried up, but the CB marking him recovered quickly and aimed to cut off his shooting course while the goalie attempted to close the distance further limit his shots. Long shot. Get over him. Shoot. His leg was moving before he realized what he was attempting, leg hitting the ball low with moderate power and chipping it high above the goalkeeper's head who barely had a chance to react, making a good attempt ... but the shot was better. From outside the penalty box, Dante had sent the crowd into a frenzy with his chip shot and his eyes shined with excitement. This was different from his other goals, the tap ins, the crosses, headers, and volleys ... this was something Dante did with his talents. He looked towards the camera and held up 3 fingers, showing that he was going for another.
At the 40 minute mark however, Stockholm was able to strike back. Dante was delivering pressure up top while trying to force a passing error which his teammates could take advantage of which eventually worked. One strong pass up the side to Dante and he was off to the races whilst looking for a good cross, however there was no one open enough to cross inwards so Dante instead he passed it to a random teammate and kept the passing chain alive and well. However his attempts to be a playmaker were overshadowed by a poor attempt by Bergman to fire in a long goal. Dante wasn't one to get emotional, really at all ... but when he was on the pitch he could feel his chest burning with dormant passion. Today that spark was a small flame, quickly turning into an all-encompassing raging inferno, a sea of fire set loose upon the field.
Just past the halftime kickoff Istanbul had it's chance. They started out with the ball yet a hard press threw off Dante's balance causing his foot to miss the pass that had already been kicked his way. He changed tactics and instead focused on getting a piece of the ball, any piece of it and just redirecting it in the direction of his teammate ...! Dante ended up on the ground in a tangle with the player marking him. He managed to get to his feet but by then the play was already being finished with the player Dante had passed to sending a quick, low pass which cut in front of everybody and turned into an easy tap in for Ozzy Boudreaux who had naturally rotated in to fill in Ronaldo's spot as Ronaldo took Dante's spot. That sequence had allowed Istanbul to seize the lead 3 - 2 , but what they needed now was to really kill Stockholm's spirits, crush them by making a comeback look inconceivable ... they needed a goal.
A goal was always the answer.
A touch over 54 minutes in Dante was lined up near the box, and trusting his talents Esquire III launched a long free kick towards him, but the 1 on 1 with his mark which would have likely resulted in a win for Dante was interrupted by another defender perfectly doubling up on him and jumping to clear the ball with a header. Time felt like it was slowly down for the Striker, the world fading into monochrome grays while his eyes took in everything. His teammate would reach the ball first ... actually, the clear was more like a pass directly to his teammate. Esquire to Warhurst to beat the pressing man, then back to Esquire as his mark returned to help cover the space in the box and prepare for their defence. Esquire carried the ball up the right wing and took a step inside, then back outside, then cut around the defender which came out to challenge him with a burst of speed and cut into the penalty area. 55 minutes in the simplest, easiest pass to Dante all day was made. Esquire to Dante. Ball to foot, accompanied by a well placed direct shot so the goalie would be left with minimal time to react.
HATTRICK.
Dante's eyes went wide as he came to a realization. Soccer felt good. He had played it because he could actually enjoy it in some capacity, but scoring this hattrick had opened his eyes once more to the beauty that was soccer. It took a moment, but the Wolfe began to understand that it wasn't just winning which fueled him. It wasn't the cheers of the fans getting high off the euphoria of another goal in a close game ... maybe it wasn't even winning itself. Maybe it was the fact that every goal felt like proof of his existence. Proof that he was smashing through one more wall which the universe had set in his way, climbing up and standing above others. All he knew was that every goal made him feel alive. He had held up three fingers to the camera to show he wanted one more ... and Dante almost got satisfied with that ... but there was more time on the clock, plenty in fact to score a fourth, fifth, maybe even sixth goal! The fans were going wild as Dante had clearly taken over the game, so he walked forwards and gave a bow to his audience. He wasn't one to celebrate, but this feeling was brand new to him and he wanted to relish it.
The game moved forward rapidly, with both teams passing and pushing towards each others goalies and taking shots. There were some incredible saves on equally impressive shots, and some near misses from the shooters. Dante continued to remain involved, passing the ball around so he could move freely and position himself somewhere with space to receive and shoot, although he didn't get another pass in front of the goal for a long while. A whole 26 minutes without being able to take a shot was pure torture for a Striker! But Dante withstood it like all other Strikers, as that was simply what they did. They were the spears in the offence meant to obliterate and destroy, causing chaos with their movements and navigating those situations to score points for their teams. With the score 2 - 4 in Istanbul's favour and the clock currently sitting at 81 minutes time in this incredible match was winding down. The commentators were mentioning that Stockholm was "running out of time to make something special happen here." (@McLumberjack) But they seemed to forget that Dante was still on the field, and he wanted to make something special happen.
The goalie had the ball after a whiffed shot from Stockholm meaning they had control, which was passed to one of the centre backs simply to avoid a penalty and keep the ball moving. They were up two goals already, but Stockholm had been getting pressure on Istanbul's defence all game long, and if they scored then the match could quickly become that much more precarious. The CB was pressured by Vox, yet maintained his composure even in the midst of a player challenging him for the ball and winded his foot backwards. With the attention on the ball, something clicked and the CB fired it over everybody's heads. One player reacted to it, knowing that this pass was something only he could realistically reach at this point in the game given his positioning and ever-improving speed. In a physical battle with the opposing team's centre back, Dante's training showed as he maintained his contact balance flawlessly and eventually broke ahead of him by one step. Then another. Then he was two full strides ahead of the CB, the ball bouncing directly in front of Dante which he needed to trap a little higher then he would've liked. With the CB on his right and the goalie having come out of the net to help close off his shooting angles Dante just needed a well placed shot. The trap had drawn the goalie out and left a small gap on the left, but shooting with his right foot would be suicide given the CB closing in. He didn't have enough time to switch it to his dominant foot, so he'd just take the risk. It was better then going another SECOND without shooting that damned ball! The weak-footed shot curled slightly, but had plenty of power and speed on it to make it around the goalkeeper who's dive looked more like they had fallen over in place.
For a moment the whole world fell quiet as Dante tipped his head back, beads of sweat falling off his body as he breathed heavily from the exertion.
He had done it.
He'd surmounted the wall just by improving a little bit and adjusting his mindset.
He didn't ask himself how far could he go.
Just how far he wanted to go.
![[Image: uPFJYtT.jpeg]](https://i.imgur.com/uPFJYtT.jpeg)
Final Score.
Istanbul 5 - 3 Stockholm
"The most goal-obsessed player in the league." @ReadySalted
"Wolfe playing for Jakarta in disguise." @Hoodz_91
"A failure of a Striker."
"I don't think it's the act of shooting that's been the problem..." @Riipsaw
"Wolfe off to the gulag again." @Hoodz_91
"May as well just play CAM."
"Wolfe is like your 12th man and that extra defender you need." @Jeanious
"If Von Wolfe passed then Istanbul would've scored." @Definia
These may have irked him, but they were far from unnerving the usually lazy genius. The Jakarta game had been one of this worst performances of the season, and after being on a 5 game heater it was certainly a disappointing, yet climatic fall from grace which saw Istanbul fall down below Jakarta on the table in the loss. Now standing on the field he was revisiting each play within his mind ... for as few key passes as Dante missed, his teammates had also missed opportunities to pass to him either to shoot or progress further up the field in the attack which made the young Striker all the more frustrated regarding the loss which had ended Istanbul's win streak and rendered him useless the majority of the match. He was able to improvise a bit, but eventually found himself needing to play back further then he would've liked in order to help pressure them back and clear the ball. He did manage assist 27 minutes into the game, but considering they lost 3 - 1 Dante didn't care about a single assist ... he cared that he felt utterly useless during the match.
Matchday #12
Dante woke up lazily as he usually does, stretching his arms above his head and unleashing a long yawn. He got up and exited his room heading to the bathroom to shower. Afterwards Dante changed into his clothes and walked into the common area/kitchen and made himself breakfast, saying hello to the teammates he shared the Academy Dorm with in a still groggy manner. He cleaned up after he finished eating and immediately went to the practice field. He wasn't looking to suddenly perform explosively ... no, he was trying to refine his skills and and make micro adjustments to his techniques. Dante's week or so between matches had been jam packed with reflection, training, visualization, and time spent in the weight room as he strived find himself. He wasn't bad at soccer. He had scored goals and assists (reluctantly). His play had lead to tangible results and was clearly working, however that loss to Jakarta had irritated him immensely. He kicked the ball with all his might from just outside the penalty box, watching it curve wildly before dipping to the ground and bouncing against the ground and shooting upwards in an unpredictable manner. He got another soccer ball and shot again. Then again. Then again. He was replicating the shot perfectly, so why did it feel so ... wrong? He didn't get an answer as the coach blew his whistle signaling that they were going to head inside and review tape and tactics one final time.
Game Start.
The rest of his day had seemingly passed by, and before he could even register what was happening Dante was on the pitch. Still, 20 minutes into the game Dante had done more passing then shooting, and eventually a play turned into a Stockholm counterattack which they converted into a goal. He could hear his coaches words in his head reminding him that it was important to keep his composure. He could hear the voices of his teammates on the pitch reassuring themselves that there was still plenty of time to even the score. Yet Dante just stood there and slowly tuned it all out, until even the sounds of the crowd faded away. It was just like when he was on the practice field, where it felt wrong. He felt that wall in front of him once again, but this time it was closer. Then it all came reeling back in an explosion of sound and irritation ... the only way to erase that feeling? Score one himself.
26 minutes into the game and the crowd still seemed to be reeling from the well executed Stockholm goal even though Istanbul had the ball. The tides seemed to be shifting however, when Ozzy managed to get the ball on a low cross and approach the goal but took the shot without putting much power into it. The moment it took him to trap the ball and shoot gave the goalie just enough time to react with a great save to knock the ball out of bounds. Corner kick. Another shot blocked. The next corner kick was also almost cleared, but Boudreaux being the closest man ran towards it uncontested. Knowing his role was to get in front of the goal fast, Dante sprinted down the center, took a pass to move the ball safely and instantly passed it back before timing a run into the box and volleying a low cross into the far side of the net with power. He felt it, something inside of him had clearly clicked and all those micro-adjustments he'd worked on, all the training in order to show the world his natural talent. It was blooming.
Just 5 minutes later Dante's team had the ball, recovering it near mid-field thanks to Boudreaux putting pressure on the right wing. Warhurst intercepted an inaccurate pass and quickly fired it to Boudreaux who was already reacting to the pass and make a run up-field. Ronaldo who was occupying a Striker spot up top with Dante, although positioned back more to act as an anchor on the attack received the pass quickly and in the matter of a few moments Istanbul was making plays and positioning themselves in Stockholm's half before their defence could get re-established. Dante was covered, but a step inside and he was free for a single moment to take the pass which he carried up, but the CB marking him recovered quickly and aimed to cut off his shooting course while the goalie attempted to close the distance further limit his shots. Long shot. Get over him. Shoot. His leg was moving before he realized what he was attempting, leg hitting the ball low with moderate power and chipping it high above the goalkeeper's head who barely had a chance to react, making a good attempt ... but the shot was better. From outside the penalty box, Dante had sent the crowd into a frenzy with his chip shot and his eyes shined with excitement. This was different from his other goals, the tap ins, the crosses, headers, and volleys ... this was something Dante did with his talents. He looked towards the camera and held up 3 fingers, showing that he was going for another.
At the 40 minute mark however, Stockholm was able to strike back. Dante was delivering pressure up top while trying to force a passing error which his teammates could take advantage of which eventually worked. One strong pass up the side to Dante and he was off to the races whilst looking for a good cross, however there was no one open enough to cross inwards so Dante instead he passed it to a random teammate and kept the passing chain alive and well. However his attempts to be a playmaker were overshadowed by a poor attempt by Bergman to fire in a long goal. Dante wasn't one to get emotional, really at all ... but when he was on the pitch he could feel his chest burning with dormant passion. Today that spark was a small flame, quickly turning into an all-encompassing raging inferno, a sea of fire set loose upon the field.
Just past the halftime kickoff Istanbul had it's chance. They started out with the ball yet a hard press threw off Dante's balance causing his foot to miss the pass that had already been kicked his way. He changed tactics and instead focused on getting a piece of the ball, any piece of it and just redirecting it in the direction of his teammate ...! Dante ended up on the ground in a tangle with the player marking him. He managed to get to his feet but by then the play was already being finished with the player Dante had passed to sending a quick, low pass which cut in front of everybody and turned into an easy tap in for Ozzy Boudreaux who had naturally rotated in to fill in Ronaldo's spot as Ronaldo took Dante's spot. That sequence had allowed Istanbul to seize the lead 3 - 2 , but what they needed now was to really kill Stockholm's spirits, crush them by making a comeback look inconceivable ... they needed a goal.
A goal was always the answer.
A touch over 54 minutes in Dante was lined up near the box, and trusting his talents Esquire III launched a long free kick towards him, but the 1 on 1 with his mark which would have likely resulted in a win for Dante was interrupted by another defender perfectly doubling up on him and jumping to clear the ball with a header. Time felt like it was slowly down for the Striker, the world fading into monochrome grays while his eyes took in everything. His teammate would reach the ball first ... actually, the clear was more like a pass directly to his teammate. Esquire to Warhurst to beat the pressing man, then back to Esquire as his mark returned to help cover the space in the box and prepare for their defence. Esquire carried the ball up the right wing and took a step inside, then back outside, then cut around the defender which came out to challenge him with a burst of speed and cut into the penalty area. 55 minutes in the simplest, easiest pass to Dante all day was made. Esquire to Dante. Ball to foot, accompanied by a well placed direct shot so the goalie would be left with minimal time to react.
HATTRICK.
Dante's eyes went wide as he came to a realization. Soccer felt good. He had played it because he could actually enjoy it in some capacity, but scoring this hattrick had opened his eyes once more to the beauty that was soccer. It took a moment, but the Wolfe began to understand that it wasn't just winning which fueled him. It wasn't the cheers of the fans getting high off the euphoria of another goal in a close game ... maybe it wasn't even winning itself. Maybe it was the fact that every goal felt like proof of his existence. Proof that he was smashing through one more wall which the universe had set in his way, climbing up and standing above others. All he knew was that every goal made him feel alive. He had held up three fingers to the camera to show he wanted one more ... and Dante almost got satisfied with that ... but there was more time on the clock, plenty in fact to score a fourth, fifth, maybe even sixth goal! The fans were going wild as Dante had clearly taken over the game, so he walked forwards and gave a bow to his audience. He wasn't one to celebrate, but this feeling was brand new to him and he wanted to relish it.
The game moved forward rapidly, with both teams passing and pushing towards each others goalies and taking shots. There were some incredible saves on equally impressive shots, and some near misses from the shooters. Dante continued to remain involved, passing the ball around so he could move freely and position himself somewhere with space to receive and shoot, although he didn't get another pass in front of the goal for a long while. A whole 26 minutes without being able to take a shot was pure torture for a Striker! But Dante withstood it like all other Strikers, as that was simply what they did. They were the spears in the offence meant to obliterate and destroy, causing chaos with their movements and navigating those situations to score points for their teams. With the score 2 - 4 in Istanbul's favour and the clock currently sitting at 81 minutes time in this incredible match was winding down. The commentators were mentioning that Stockholm was "running out of time to make something special happen here." (@McLumberjack) But they seemed to forget that Dante was still on the field, and he wanted to make something special happen.
The goalie had the ball after a whiffed shot from Stockholm meaning they had control, which was passed to one of the centre backs simply to avoid a penalty and keep the ball moving. They were up two goals already, but Stockholm had been getting pressure on Istanbul's defence all game long, and if they scored then the match could quickly become that much more precarious. The CB was pressured by Vox, yet maintained his composure even in the midst of a player challenging him for the ball and winded his foot backwards. With the attention on the ball, something clicked and the CB fired it over everybody's heads. One player reacted to it, knowing that this pass was something only he could realistically reach at this point in the game given his positioning and ever-improving speed. In a physical battle with the opposing team's centre back, Dante's training showed as he maintained his contact balance flawlessly and eventually broke ahead of him by one step. Then another. Then he was two full strides ahead of the CB, the ball bouncing directly in front of Dante which he needed to trap a little higher then he would've liked. With the CB on his right and the goalie having come out of the net to help close off his shooting angles Dante just needed a well placed shot. The trap had drawn the goalie out and left a small gap on the left, but shooting with his right foot would be suicide given the CB closing in. He didn't have enough time to switch it to his dominant foot, so he'd just take the risk. It was better then going another SECOND without shooting that damned ball! The weak-footed shot curled slightly, but had plenty of power and speed on it to make it around the goalkeeper who's dive looked more like they had fallen over in place.
For a moment the whole world fell quiet as Dante tipped his head back, beads of sweat falling off his body as he breathed heavily from the exertion.
He had done it.
He'd surmounted the wall just by improving a little bit and adjusting his mindset.
He didn't ask himself how far could he go.
Just how far he wanted to go.
Final Score.
Istanbul 5 - 3 Stockholm
![[Image: ySrStzC.jpeg]](https://i.imgur.com/ySrStzC.jpeg)
