Super Wingstorm

He had already missed the best age to build a solid foundation.

With the one-year deadline fast approaching, Yang Yang’s situation on the team was only getting worse. Despite giving it his all, he couldn’t improve. He was furious and blamed himself, able to do nothing but pound the turf to vent his frustration.

...

...

"Yang."

After all the other players had left, John Reep walked over to Yang Yang. He looked at the boy—sweat-soaked and out of breath—and felt a wave of helplessness.

Of course, he knew everything that had happened on the training pitch.

A year ago, John Reep had felt a certain distaste for this player who had gotten in through connections. Over the past year, however, Yang Yang’s diligence and determination had completely changed the Dutch legend’s opinion of him. But that didn’t change Reep’s judgment about the boy’s future.

The 51-year-old Dutchman felt sorry for Yang Yang and lamented his situation, but he ultimately hardened his heart. He didn’t end the training session early, instead continuing to observe with a detached eye.

’If it had been a few years earlier,’ he thought, ’with Yang’s persistence, he definitely would have had a chance. But now...’ All he could do was gently persuade him to quit.

He believed he was doing this for the sake of Yang Yang’s future.

"Mr. Reep." Yang Yang scrambled up from the ground and called out respectfully.

In the past year, he had learned a great deal from the Dutch legend and never dared to show the slightest disrespect.

"You know, in about a month, this training period will be over. We’ll be holding an internal evaluation then," John Reep said flatly.

Yang Yang nodded. It was a youth training model that Almere had adopted from the Dutch giants, Ajax.

Every year, the evaluation would weed out underperforming trainees and bring in fresh blood to stimulate internal competition. The most outstanding players would receive a recommendation from the club to attend Ajax’s Talent Day trials in Amsterdam in July, giving them a chance to be selected for the Ajax Youth Academy.

As a satellite club for the Dutch powerhouse, Almere had three recommendation spots each year. Only the most exceptional trainees earned the right to one of those letters.

If the newly arrived Yang Yang had been full of confidence and dreaming of Ajax a year ago, now he had only one goal: stay at Almere.

But that was becoming harder and harder.

"You know, Yang," John Reep said, looking at him with pity, his eyes filled with helplessness. "We’re the first team in Almere’s nearly thirty-year history with a real chance of entering the professional leagues. The city government and the community are all paying close attention to our development. This year’s evaluations are bound to attract a lot of special guests and fans, so..."

There were some things John Reep couldn’t bring himself to say outright, but his meaning was clear.

Although Yang Yang had only been in the Netherlands for a year, Reep was confident the boy’s Dutch was good enough to understand the unspoken implications.

"Your academic performance is excellent, and your teachers at school speak very highly of you. We all think you should focus your efforts in that direction. If you’re willing, I can persuade the chairman to allow you to remain enrolled at our partner high school, even after you leave the team. In the future, you’ll definitely have a chance to get into the University of Amsterdam."

The University of Amsterdam was the best university in the Netherlands and one of the most prestigious in all of Europe.

In John Reep’s opinion, Yang Yang’s chances of becoming a professional player were even slimmer than his chances of getting into the University of Amsterdam, despite the incredibly fierce competition for the latter.

Yang Yang understood what Mr. Reep meant. He’d received this same talk several times recently, with the head coach’s words becoming more blunt each time. He knew that the offer Mr. Reep was making today was exceptionally generous.

The high school he currently attended was a prestigious private school in Almere. He never would have been able to enroll if he wasn’t an Almere youth player. The team had never offered such compensation to a dropped player before; they were making a clear exception for him.

But Yang Yang still couldn’t accept it.

"Thank you, Mr. Reep." Yang Yang only thought for a moment before lifting his head to look the coach straight in the eye, shaking his head with determination. "I appreciate your kindness, but I really don’t want to give up like this. I won’t admit defeat until the very last second."

"Why are you being so..."

"I’ve made up my mind, Mr. Reep," Yang Yang said, ending the conversation with an air of finality.

John Reep had been prepared for this response. He wasn’t offended by Yang Yang’s stubbornness and persistence; in fact, he admired it. But the more he admired the boy, the more he lamented the situation.

If Yang Yang had come to him a few years earlier, he believed the outcome would have been completely different.

At the very least, his fundamentals would be far more solid. With his speed and stamina, he could absolutely secure a spot at Almere, and perhaps even aim higher.

Unfortunately, he had already missed the optimal age.

At this thought, John Reep watched Yang Yang’s retreating figure and let out a long sigh.

...

...

Almere is a satellite city of Amsterdam. Most of its residents commute to work in Amsterdam, leaving early in the morning and returning late at night, which made dinnertime the busiest period for local restaurants.

Today, unlike usual, Yang Yang didn’t go to help at the restaurant after training. He called his uncle, then went home and locked himself in his room.

’I need some time alone to think.’

He lay on his back on his single bed, staring up at the two large posters plastered on the low ceiling—his two favorite idols.

The Brazilian superstar Ronaldo, who currently played for Real Madrid, and the retired Dutch legend, Van Basten.

He had lost count of the number of times he’d lain in bed just like this, staring at his idols as he drifted off to sleep, dreaming of playing on the same pitch with them.

But he had never felt so lost before.

He was self-aware; he knew the gap between him and the Dutch players his age. But he couldn’t stand the thought of failing like this, of giving up on his dream of football in disgrace.

’My parents back home... they’ll be so disappointed when they hear the news, won’t they?’

’Even though they always told me to quit football and come home to focus on my studies, they wanted me to be the one to make that choice.’

’No parents want to see their child suffer a setback like this, right?’

’And my uncle’s family... They must have been prepared for this, but they’ll still be incredibly disappointed.’

As his thoughts drifted, he unknowingly fell asleep.

In the hazy state between waking and sleeping, Yang Yang had a very strange dream.

He found himself in a pitch-black, unknown space, a void so dark he couldn’t see his own hand in front of his face.

He wasn’t sure if he was dreaming. He screamed and ran with all his might, trying to escape the terrifying place.

But even after he’d screamed himself hoarse and run until he was exhausted, he felt like he hadn’t moved an inch.

Just then, a faint, ethereal voice drifted toward him from a great distance.

Yang Yang!

He faintly heard what sounded like someone calling his name. It was barely a whisper at first, but it gradually grew clearer.

He immediately ran toward the sound.