Speed demon

Jace Holloway had never struggled with pressure before.

In track, expectation had fueled him. The bigger the race, the louder the crowd, the faster he ran. He had thrived under the weight of eyes watching him, willing him to succeed.

But football was different.

Here, he wasn't the one everyone expected to shine. He was the outsider, the track kid trying to find his place among footballers who had spent their whole lives mastering the game. He had speed, sure, but speed wasn't enough. Not yet.

He could feel the silent judgment from some of the other trialists, those who had seen him stumble through drills, lose the ball under pressure, and struggle against defenders like Theo. He wasn't bad, but he wasn't good either.This made him to think a lot.

That thought gnawed at him as he laced up his boots for another day of training.

This time, he wasn't just observing. He was fully in it.

Coach Davies blew his whistle, gathering the players into a semi-circle.

"Alright, lads. We're breaking into five-a-side games today. Quick movement, sharp passing, and decision-making. You don't get time to think—you react."The coach's word made him uncomfortable because how can you not get time to think but you are expected to react.

Jace swallowed. He had spent most of the past week doing individual drills, getting used to the ball at his feet, but this was real gameplay. There would be no time to overanalyze, no time to correct mistakes.

His team consisted of Marcus, Theo, a midfielder named Callum, and a defender named Jake. The opposing side had some of the school's more experienced trialists—players who knew how to expose weaknesses.

As the game started, Jace immediately felt out of his depth.

In track, the plan was simple: run faster than everyone else and always makes sure you win.

Here? He had no idea where to move or where to even start to sprint.

Whenever he sprinted into space, the ball never came. Whenever he called for a pass, it was either too slow, too fast, or intercepted before he could control it. So he decided to quit from football because it wasn't favouring him at all.

Marcus, ever the encouraging one, tried to help. "Find the gaps, Jace! Don't just run—read the game!"

Read the game?

That was easy for Marcus to say. He had been playing football his whole life. Jace was still learning the alphabet.

It only took a few minutes for Jace to start getting frustrated.

He knew he was fast. He knew that, in a straight race, he could burn every player on the pitch.

But football wasn't about straight races.

More than once, he found himself out of position, isolated on the wing, too far from the play to make an impact.

And when he did finally get on the ball, it was like his brain and his feet weren't in sync—he would hesitate for half a second, unsure of what to do, and in that half-second, the ball was already stolen.

"Wake up, Holloway!" someone from the other team barked. "This ain't the athletics track!"these words pissed him off so he decided to work on his weaknesses and started to read the game.

Jace clenched his jaw. He hated feeling like this—like he was one step behind everyone else.

Then, as if to make things worse, the opposition broke forward in a lightning-quick counterattack. A long pass was floated toward their winger, who took off down the right side, sprinting toward goal.

Jace didn't even think. He reacted.

He saw the space, saw the danger, and his instincts took over.

Within seconds, he was at full speed, closing the gap between him and the winger like a lion hunting prey.

The winger probably thought he had time—until Jace was on him.

In a last-second decision, Jace slid in, cleanly knocking the ball out of play before the winger could even think about a cross.

A few of the players whistled in surprise.

Even Theo, who rarely gave out praise, smirked. "Not bad, track star."

Coach Davies, watching from the sideline, simply nodded. "That's what I like to see."

Jace exhaled, standing up and brushing dirt off his shorts. What he did thrilled his teammates because the guy was running as fast as a cheetah.

For the first time in the game, he felt like he belonged.

---

Finding His Role

The game continued, and slowly, Jace started to understand his strengths.

He couldn't yet do what Marcus did—threading perfect passes or dancing past defenders with tight control—but what he could do was use his speed intelligently.

Instead of blindly sprinting forward, he began timing his runs better.

Instead of waiting for the ball to come to him, he started anticipating where it would be.

When his team regained possession, he noticed the opposition's left-back had drifted too far inside. A gap had opened.

Jace pointed and shouted, "Marcus, now!"

Marcus didn't hesitate. He played a perfectly weighted ball into the open space, and Jace took off.

This time, the run was perfectly timed.

Jace controlled the ball mid-stride, his first touch clean for once. He sprinted down the wing, ignoring the defender scrambling to catch up.

He could feel the rush of the crowd, the thrill of speed, the moment he had missed since his track days.

Reaching the byline, he squared the ball across the box.

Theo, charging forward like a battering ram, met it with a first-time shot—goal.

Jace barely had time to react before Marcus clapped him on the back. "That's what I'm talking about!"

Theo, ever the quiet one, gave him an approving nod. "You keep making runs like that, you'll be a nightmare to mark."

Jace grinned, heart still pounding.

Maybe he wasn't useless at this after all.

Coach's Verdict

After the game, Jace sat on the sideline, untying his boots. His shirt was drenched in sweat, but for the first time in weeks, it was a good kind of exhaustion.

Coach Davies approached, hands in his pockets. "How did that feel?"

Jace thought for a moment before answering. "Frustrating at first. But once I figured some things out… fun." He smiled.

Davies smirked. "Football's a puzzle. You've got the raw materials—speed, instincts. But you're not gonna learn everything overnight. You willing to put in the work?"

Jace met his gaze. He had already lost one dream. He wasn't about to waste another chance.

"I'm in."

Davies nodded. "Good. Then I'll see you at training next week."

Jace watched him walk away, the reality settling in.

He had made his decision.

No more observing. No more doubting.

He was officially a footballer.

So he said "at least the speed demon is back and active ".