The match took place under the bright lights of the main stadium. The air was cool and still. As the English and Spanish national anthems played, Ethan stood next to Marcus, his heart racing. This was it.
When the whistle blew, it felt different from any football Ethan had ever played.
It wasn't just fast; it was a new game. Spain's players moved in a dizzying flurry of one-touch passes. Their pressure was relentless. The moment an England player received the ball, three Spanish players surrounded him, forcing a turnover.
Ethan, as the playmaker, couldn't touch the ball. A determined Spanish midfielder marked him closely, anticipating his every move. For the first twenty minutes, he chased shadows, his lungs burning and his mind racing.
In the 26th minute, it happened. Spain regained possession in midfield and, with a series of quick passes, sliced through the English defense. Their striker easily tapped the ball into the net at the far post, making it 1-0. It was a beautiful play, impossible to defend against, and completely demoralizing.
They limped into halftime, down 1-0 and having barely touched the ball. The locker room was silent, stunned players everywhere.
"They're better than us on the ball," the coach said, his voice steady. "We all saw it. So, we stop trying to play their game. We stop chasing. In the second half, we stay compact. We defend as a team, letting them have the ball in their half. But the moment they try to force it, we take advantage, and we go directly at them. Marcus, Ethan, you won't get ten touches. You'll get one. Make it count."
The second half changed everything. England gave up possession, maintaining a tight, organized formation. Spain, feeling confident, pushed higher and passed with ease. For twenty minutes, England absorbed the pressure, coiling like a spring.
Then, in the 71st minute, it happened. The Spanish midfielder, who had been flawless all game, tried a lazy, cross-field pass.
Marcus read it perfectly. He burst from his position and intercepted the ball with a well-timed challenge. The turnover occurred instantly. He took one touch and played the ball forward to Ethan, who found space.
Ethan had no time to think. The Spanish defense closed in fast. He noticed the English left-winger making a hard sprint out of the corner of his eye. Without looking up, he feinted a shot to draw in the center-back, then threaded a reverse pass into the spot he knew the winger would be.
The pass was spot on. The winger took one touch to control it and a second to blast it past the keeper.
1-1. The English bench erupted. Against the run of play and against a team of superstars, they were level.
The final twenty minutes felt like the longest of Ethan's life. Spain, furious and embarrassed, launched everything at them. It became a desperate, backs-against-the-wall defensive stand. When the final whistle blew, the England players collapsed onto the grass, completely exhausted.
It was only a 1-1 draw, but it felt like a World Cup victory. They had faced a top team and hadn't broken.
As they walked off the pitch, Ethan caught his breath, his legs shaking. He knew, without a doubt, that the scouts from West Brom, and likely many other clubs, had just seen that pass. He had one moment, and he had made it count.