2026-08-04, 02:50 PM - Word count:
(This post was last modified: 2026-08-05, 02:31 AM by nckkss. Edited 1 time in total.)
2-1 down with 30 minutes to go
It’s the 60th minute and rookie of the year candidate Alex Pena has just finished off a dominant North Shore move, and Kaapstad’s Veteran Keeper Duncan Walrusson finds himself beaten for the second time this game.
Kaapstad’s six rookies have fought valiantly this season to a respectable if forgettable 4th place in the Minor League Division One – remember you’ll win nothing with kids – but North Shore have proven tricky time and time again. There’s just 30 minutes of normal time on the clock to get something from this game at the tail end of the season.
Homme Esquire III Ltd has earned a yellow card for his trouble and left full back, the two rookie centre backs next to him in the shape of Okada and McDougall have not managed to weather the experienced attackers of North Shore. Felix Pedro has a new partner at CDM with Evan Hunt, pushing Nick Kasak into a free-er more attacking role sitting behind the ever-goal-hungry self proclaimed Future Best Striker Dante Von Wolfe.
If they want anything from this game, they need to go out and get it. They need to do it right now.
Picked up in defence by Homme, who seeks out Fantobens on the wing. He dribbles up the pitch, find Kasak in a pocket at the edge of the box.
Reminiscent of his Academy season, Kasak slots it across the face of goal from the left, the former winger weighting the pass perfectly, an act of muscle memory perhaps or sheer luck as it beats one, two, three North Shore defenders to meet the grateful feet of Dante Von Wolfe, who simply cannot miss from this distance.
2 minutes later, Pedro, McDougall and Okada play it safely back to their keeper, the majestic Walrusson hoofs it apparently aimlessly up the pitch – but in fact he has deftly picked out Jang who knocks it down to the newly freed Kasak.
Freed from some defensive responsibilities that his rookie shoulders cannot yet bear. Freed by the optimism of youth.
Crucially, free of his marker.
In milliseconds, he runs into the opposition area, a deft sidestep and onto his favoured left. If Fantobens or Von Wolfe are expecting the shy boy from London to pass the ball this time, they are mistaken. A shoulder drops and a left foot rocket from just inside the box is delivered through the outstretched hands of the keeper and bulges the goal net.
North Shore were ahead for 3 minutes, the scores were level for two, this game surely has more goals in it?
Neymarinho, Del Pirlo, Rashford, Vox all ask questions of the Kaapstad goal and find they can’t break in.
Hunt clears the danger. Jang picks up the loose ball in midfield. Hunt clears again, Kasak chases. North Shore are sniffing around like a dog hunting their buried bone. Surely it wont be long before they find it.
The full time whistle is welcomed with vuvuzelas and the howling of thousands of wolves – celebrating Kaapstad’s very own wolfpack of Bad and Von. They’ve done it and brought it back, but for what? To do it all over again in just a few days.
----------------
“We love you Kaapstad, we do… we love you Kaapstad, we do…”
“Nick!”
“We love you Kaapstad, we doooo!”
“Niiccck!!”
“Oh Kaapstad we love you!!!”
Therasa the player liason, professionally dressed as ever, is trying to get Nick’s attention in the tunnel after the game.
“Mr Kasak!!” She booms, “We need you at the press conference.”
Nick, stops singing with his teammates and points to his chest, mouthing “me?”
“Yes, yes, come on.”
She grabs his firmly by the arm and into a side corridor, deftly swerving officials, staff and various hanger on, cutting a route through it all like a hot knife through butter. Kasak can only blunder and apologise as he steps on feet, catches elbows and bumps along.
“I don’t know why the press room is so far away,” Theresa whispers mostly to herself.
“Er… Theresa what’s going on? Why me? I never go to these.” Nick waves an apologetic hand to someone whose hat he has just knocked off – he gestures to Theresa’s steering. He is not in control of this journey.
“What do you mean, you were Player of the Match, Mr Kasak.” Theresa replies to his question as if he asked why the sky is blue. Because it is, obviously.
“What?” Nick looks surprised, “Me?”
“You got a goal and assist, you played very well.”
Nick can’t help but smile – compliments from Theresa were rare indeed. If she said you played well, you must have played one of the best games of your life. There was no higher accolade.
“Ok, you’ve done your media training, yes?”
“Err…” Nick’s face is the epitome of the schoolboy who is about to get caught not doing his homework.
“Mr Kasak…” Theresa is already regretting the high praise she gave out earlier. She takes a breath. “Just… don’t say anything without thinking, don’t say anything bad about the club and for god sakes don’t try and make a joke.”
She bristles with threat, the South African music of her accent turned up to 11.
“If you say anything stupid, I will pull you out of that chair myself.” and beat you to death, she dearly wants to say.
She shoves Nick into the room, cameras flashing directly in his eyes, the room abuzz with chatter and excitement. The Club Press Officer seamlessly guided him to his seat. His lips don’t move out of the rictus smile he has for the cameras as he whispers to Nick “Don’t say anything stupid, don’t say anything bad about the club.”
“Ok, here we go,” the Press Officer gestures to the room to try to bring it to order, “usual stuff here, obviously, go easy on him, its his first time here as Player of The Match….Robert, then Peter to start I think.”
A man with a notepad comes to his feet “Robert Rudd, Cape Town Herald – Nick you had a fantastic game out there today, do you think you should be playing in more attacking roles?”
“Er…” Nick starts, feeling the press officer’s eyes burning into him, “well for the last thirty minutes I did well, but the rest of the game I was only OK. I appreciate the… freedom of playing nearer the top, but if anything I want to be able to do whatever I can. For the team, for the club.”
The press officer’s eyes narrow slightly. Maybe not such an idiot after all.
“Peter Lingard, SSL News – your organisation already has the Major’s Division One Title in the bag, are you already looking forward to moving up to Hollywood FC as soon as possible?”
“Well, one step at a time. Let me win the minors with Kaapstad first.”
Laughter spreads throughout the room.
“No no, I’m serious, look at the talent on display tonight – not me… well not just me. Dante can’t stop scoring now, and he’s going to keep getting better, trust me.”
“Eric Marawa, SA Sports TV. Are you concerned about your place on the team with the upcoming expansion draft? Are you protected by the organisation?”
Nick looks confused for a moment, unsure how to answer, “No, no, I’m not concerned.” He pauses, “I don’t know what I can say… here…” He turns to the press officer who steps in.
“So Hollywood and Kaapstad have submitted their protected list on time to the correct authorities, but we are not at liberty to say who is or is not on it. Suffice to say though, I doubt any team would be looking to get rid of players straight after their rookie season just as they are starting to gain a competitive edge. We’ve got a need to protect our investments.”
Nick looks even more confused as such a complicated and dry answer, but assembled journalists frantically scribble onto pads or tap onto keyboards in response to the answer given.
“Nick, one more match to go against Paris, do you think you can beat them?”
“We can beat anyone on our day, who knows what might happen?!”
“Nick, lovely couple of goals out of you so far this season, do you think you’ll score more next season?”
“I mean, hopefully yes…”
“What do you make of the new expansion teams, and African Major side?”
“I’ve played my entire SSL career in Africa, so that's… lovely?”
The questions keep on coming and coming, the press officer sense’s Nick’s inexperience a few times, saving him from any more comments.
The press officer guides Nick away from the throng, “Ok, Nick, not bad. A bit more media training and you might be alright at this, anyway, see you next time."
Nick has been guided outside the stadium, somewhere near the bins, the door slamming shut behind him.
He still has his boots on.
It’s the 60th minute and rookie of the year candidate Alex Pena has just finished off a dominant North Shore move, and Kaapstad’s Veteran Keeper Duncan Walrusson finds himself beaten for the second time this game.
Kaapstad’s six rookies have fought valiantly this season to a respectable if forgettable 4th place in the Minor League Division One – remember you’ll win nothing with kids – but North Shore have proven tricky time and time again. There’s just 30 minutes of normal time on the clock to get something from this game at the tail end of the season.
Homme Esquire III Ltd has earned a yellow card for his trouble and left full back, the two rookie centre backs next to him in the shape of Okada and McDougall have not managed to weather the experienced attackers of North Shore. Felix Pedro has a new partner at CDM with Evan Hunt, pushing Nick Kasak into a free-er more attacking role sitting behind the ever-goal-hungry self proclaimed Future Best Striker Dante Von Wolfe.
If they want anything from this game, they need to go out and get it. They need to do it right now.
Picked up in defence by Homme, who seeks out Fantobens on the wing. He dribbles up the pitch, find Kasak in a pocket at the edge of the box.
Reminiscent of his Academy season, Kasak slots it across the face of goal from the left, the former winger weighting the pass perfectly, an act of muscle memory perhaps or sheer luck as it beats one, two, three North Shore defenders to meet the grateful feet of Dante Von Wolfe, who simply cannot miss from this distance.
2 minutes later, Pedro, McDougall and Okada play it safely back to their keeper, the majestic Walrusson hoofs it apparently aimlessly up the pitch – but in fact he has deftly picked out Jang who knocks it down to the newly freed Kasak.
Freed from some defensive responsibilities that his rookie shoulders cannot yet bear. Freed by the optimism of youth.
Crucially, free of his marker.
In milliseconds, he runs into the opposition area, a deft sidestep and onto his favoured left. If Fantobens or Von Wolfe are expecting the shy boy from London to pass the ball this time, they are mistaken. A shoulder drops and a left foot rocket from just inside the box is delivered through the outstretched hands of the keeper and bulges the goal net.
North Shore were ahead for 3 minutes, the scores were level for two, this game surely has more goals in it?
Neymarinho, Del Pirlo, Rashford, Vox all ask questions of the Kaapstad goal and find they can’t break in.
Hunt clears the danger. Jang picks up the loose ball in midfield. Hunt clears again, Kasak chases. North Shore are sniffing around like a dog hunting their buried bone. Surely it wont be long before they find it.
The full time whistle is welcomed with vuvuzelas and the howling of thousands of wolves – celebrating Kaapstad’s very own wolfpack of Bad and Von. They’ve done it and brought it back, but for what? To do it all over again in just a few days.
----------------
“We love you Kaapstad, we do… we love you Kaapstad, we do…”
“Nick!”
“We love you Kaapstad, we doooo!”
“Niiccck!!”
“Oh Kaapstad we love you!!!”
Therasa the player liason, professionally dressed as ever, is trying to get Nick’s attention in the tunnel after the game.
“Mr Kasak!!” She booms, “We need you at the press conference.”
Nick, stops singing with his teammates and points to his chest, mouthing “me?”
“Yes, yes, come on.”
She grabs his firmly by the arm and into a side corridor, deftly swerving officials, staff and various hanger on, cutting a route through it all like a hot knife through butter. Kasak can only blunder and apologise as he steps on feet, catches elbows and bumps along.
“I don’t know why the press room is so far away,” Theresa whispers mostly to herself.
“Er… Theresa what’s going on? Why me? I never go to these.” Nick waves an apologetic hand to someone whose hat he has just knocked off – he gestures to Theresa’s steering. He is not in control of this journey.
“What do you mean, you were Player of the Match, Mr Kasak.” Theresa replies to his question as if he asked why the sky is blue. Because it is, obviously.
“What?” Nick looks surprised, “Me?”
“You got a goal and assist, you played very well.”
Nick can’t help but smile – compliments from Theresa were rare indeed. If she said you played well, you must have played one of the best games of your life. There was no higher accolade.
“Ok, you’ve done your media training, yes?”
“Err…” Nick’s face is the epitome of the schoolboy who is about to get caught not doing his homework.
“Mr Kasak…” Theresa is already regretting the high praise she gave out earlier. She takes a breath. “Just… don’t say anything without thinking, don’t say anything bad about the club and for god sakes don’t try and make a joke.”
She bristles with threat, the South African music of her accent turned up to 11.
“If you say anything stupid, I will pull you out of that chair myself.” and beat you to death, she dearly wants to say.
She shoves Nick into the room, cameras flashing directly in his eyes, the room abuzz with chatter and excitement. The Club Press Officer seamlessly guided him to his seat. His lips don’t move out of the rictus smile he has for the cameras as he whispers to Nick “Don’t say anything stupid, don’t say anything bad about the club.”
“Ok, here we go,” the Press Officer gestures to the room to try to bring it to order, “usual stuff here, obviously, go easy on him, its his first time here as Player of The Match….Robert, then Peter to start I think.”
A man with a notepad comes to his feet “Robert Rudd, Cape Town Herald – Nick you had a fantastic game out there today, do you think you should be playing in more attacking roles?”
“Er…” Nick starts, feeling the press officer’s eyes burning into him, “well for the last thirty minutes I did well, but the rest of the game I was only OK. I appreciate the… freedom of playing nearer the top, but if anything I want to be able to do whatever I can. For the team, for the club.”
The press officer’s eyes narrow slightly. Maybe not such an idiot after all.
“Peter Lingard, SSL News – your organisation already has the Major’s Division One Title in the bag, are you already looking forward to moving up to Hollywood FC as soon as possible?”
“Well, one step at a time. Let me win the minors with Kaapstad first.”
Laughter spreads throughout the room.
“No no, I’m serious, look at the talent on display tonight – not me… well not just me. Dante can’t stop scoring now, and he’s going to keep getting better, trust me.”
“Eric Marawa, SA Sports TV. Are you concerned about your place on the team with the upcoming expansion draft? Are you protected by the organisation?”
Nick looks confused for a moment, unsure how to answer, “No, no, I’m not concerned.” He pauses, “I don’t know what I can say… here…” He turns to the press officer who steps in.
“So Hollywood and Kaapstad have submitted their protected list on time to the correct authorities, but we are not at liberty to say who is or is not on it. Suffice to say though, I doubt any team would be looking to get rid of players straight after their rookie season just as they are starting to gain a competitive edge. We’ve got a need to protect our investments.”
Nick looks even more confused as such a complicated and dry answer, but assembled journalists frantically scribble onto pads or tap onto keyboards in response to the answer given.
“Nick, one more match to go against Paris, do you think you can beat them?”
“We can beat anyone on our day, who knows what might happen?!”
“Nick, lovely couple of goals out of you so far this season, do you think you’ll score more next season?”
“I mean, hopefully yes…”
“What do you make of the new expansion teams, and African Major side?”
“I’ve played my entire SSL career in Africa, so that's… lovely?”
The questions keep on coming and coming, the press officer sense’s Nick’s inexperience a few times, saving him from any more comments.
The press officer guides Nick away from the throng, “Ok, Nick, not bad. A bit more media training and you might be alright at this, anyway, see you next time."
Nick has been guided outside the stadium, somewhere near the bins, the door slamming shut behind him.
He still has his boots on.
![[Image: CTtL39n.jpg]](https://iili.io/CTtL39n.jpg)
Signature by Bloodless
![[Image: S1SIGPOWWW.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/pLKFkRPw/S1SIGPOWWW.png)
