2025-03-31, 11:43 AM - Word count: 1006
Predrag woke up in his apartment in Kemerburgaz. It wasn't a special day. The sky was half cloudy and it looked like it might rain but no downpour was expected. I suppose the day itself didn't mean much but rather his responsibilities did. It was his last day as an Istanbul player. He had graduated. The final matches were...a bit anti climactic. Istanbul lost the title way earlier and were fighting for 2nd place but Accra destroyed them. To add insult to injury he went completely ghost in that game. Guess he used up too much in that Sydney match. He also couldn't win the golden boot. He came in second, though he did beat his original goal of scoring more than 12 goals.
He got dressed, though not in his usual training gear. He just wore his normal clothes. It felt weird showing up at the stadium without his kit. Realistically he was only there to drop off some stuff and say a few goodbyes. The team already had a party to celebrate the end of the season so this whole process felt...quiet. He dropped off his extra training gear and kits, though he was allowed to keep some of course. He said goodbye to the analysis team who he bothered way too much. He chatted with the chefs and they packed him a few meals. And just like that...he left.
He...didn't feel sad. He was a bit excited on where he would end up going as the draft was just around the corner but more than anything he...felt a bit empty. At the end of the day it was just the Academy season. It wouldn't have mattered even if they won it. It was just there to train them for their debuts in the Minor league. However, he still couldn't shake the feeling he was missing something. He got off the bus early so he could walk back to his apartment and clear his head. Why was he so melancholic? It was bugging him. He had a great time at the club, his fellow players were awesome. Hell, even the fans grew to love him and he loved them back.
Predrag walked over to the local aqueduct and just sat next to it. Convinced that he would somehow reach an epiphany if he just waited long enough. Nearly an hour passed of him staring into nothing in particular. Then he started crying. The truth was very simple. He was scared. When he came to Istanbul he was a nobody and was completely okay with not reaching any goal and failing spectacularly because he never trusted in himself. Yet instead of that, he became an integral player to Istanbul. His fellow players trusted him, the fans believed in him and to his horror...he actually delivered.
Now he would be drafted by a professional team and most likely by a big one because of his frankly great performance. He was scared he would disappoint them. At Istanbul he didn't have a standard to live up to. Now he needs to surpass what he achieved. Just a few months ago he was a complete beginner who barely knew how to kick the ball. What if he was a flop at his new club? What if Istanbul was pure luck? What if everyone finally found out that he was a fraud? That's what was running through his mind.
He got up from the grass, he had been sitting near that aqueduct for over an hour. He smacked his face as hard as he could. He couldn't afford doubt. He wore the 9, it was a number of pride, it was a number of hope, it was the number that always represented the chance of victory. Whichever club got him in the end would get a better product than they expected. Because it wasn't about him, it never was. It was about the fans, about the club, about legacy and about the honor of the game.
Predrag remembered his childish motivation for joining the Academy program. He wanted to "destroy the legends". It was so edgy and corny. He's a grown man acting like a little child. But it was easy to get into a silly character than be open about how he was feeling. He wanted to win just because losing was too painful. He hadn't achieved much so far in life and he just wanted that to end. In truth he was hoping he was some legendary talent and that he could ride that luck into retirement. But the only reason he could keep up in the Academy was his work ethic and his constant video analysis. He kept working harder and harder because he dreaded the idea of letting the team down.
Predrag finally got back to his apartment. He booted up his PC to find something to distract himself with but none of the games in his library felt fun in the moment. Sure, he convinced himself that he would give it his all in the Minor league as well but those were just words, he still needed to put that into action. He knew he was just being lazy and procrastinating. Instead of playing any games, he opened up his browser. He started looking up information on all the organizations. One of them was going to pick him, it didn't matter if he was first or last he would still be in a team at the end of the draft.
After looking up all the teams and their history, he grabbed a pen and some paper and started writing. How he would play for all of these clubs and how he would bring them all down if they were opponents. By the time he realized he needed to go to bed again, he had been writing for over 8 hours. Only a week left before he knew his fate for who knows how many seasons.
He got dressed, though not in his usual training gear. He just wore his normal clothes. It felt weird showing up at the stadium without his kit. Realistically he was only there to drop off some stuff and say a few goodbyes. The team already had a party to celebrate the end of the season so this whole process felt...quiet. He dropped off his extra training gear and kits, though he was allowed to keep some of course. He said goodbye to the analysis team who he bothered way too much. He chatted with the chefs and they packed him a few meals. And just like that...he left.
He...didn't feel sad. He was a bit excited on where he would end up going as the draft was just around the corner but more than anything he...felt a bit empty. At the end of the day it was just the Academy season. It wouldn't have mattered even if they won it. It was just there to train them for their debuts in the Minor league. However, he still couldn't shake the feeling he was missing something. He got off the bus early so he could walk back to his apartment and clear his head. Why was he so melancholic? It was bugging him. He had a great time at the club, his fellow players were awesome. Hell, even the fans grew to love him and he loved them back.
Predrag walked over to the local aqueduct and just sat next to it. Convinced that he would somehow reach an epiphany if he just waited long enough. Nearly an hour passed of him staring into nothing in particular. Then he started crying. The truth was very simple. He was scared. When he came to Istanbul he was a nobody and was completely okay with not reaching any goal and failing spectacularly because he never trusted in himself. Yet instead of that, he became an integral player to Istanbul. His fellow players trusted him, the fans believed in him and to his horror...he actually delivered.
Now he would be drafted by a professional team and most likely by a big one because of his frankly great performance. He was scared he would disappoint them. At Istanbul he didn't have a standard to live up to. Now he needs to surpass what he achieved. Just a few months ago he was a complete beginner who barely knew how to kick the ball. What if he was a flop at his new club? What if Istanbul was pure luck? What if everyone finally found out that he was a fraud? That's what was running through his mind.
He got up from the grass, he had been sitting near that aqueduct for over an hour. He smacked his face as hard as he could. He couldn't afford doubt. He wore the 9, it was a number of pride, it was a number of hope, it was the number that always represented the chance of victory. Whichever club got him in the end would get a better product than they expected. Because it wasn't about him, it never was. It was about the fans, about the club, about legacy and about the honor of the game.
Predrag remembered his childish motivation for joining the Academy program. He wanted to "destroy the legends". It was so edgy and corny. He's a grown man acting like a little child. But it was easy to get into a silly character than be open about how he was feeling. He wanted to win just because losing was too painful. He hadn't achieved much so far in life and he just wanted that to end. In truth he was hoping he was some legendary talent and that he could ride that luck into retirement. But the only reason he could keep up in the Academy was his work ethic and his constant video analysis. He kept working harder and harder because he dreaded the idea of letting the team down.
Predrag finally got back to his apartment. He booted up his PC to find something to distract himself with but none of the games in his library felt fun in the moment. Sure, he convinced himself that he would give it his all in the Minor league as well but those were just words, he still needed to put that into action. He knew he was just being lazy and procrastinating. Instead of playing any games, he opened up his browser. He started looking up information on all the organizations. One of them was going to pick him, it didn't matter if he was first or last he would still be in a team at the end of the draft.
After looking up all the teams and their history, he grabbed a pen and some paper and started writing. How he would play for all of these clubs and how he would bring them all down if they were opponents. By the time he realized he needed to go to bed again, he had been writing for over 8 hours. Only a week left before he knew his fate for who knows how many seasons.
