The players stepped off the bus with determined expressions and headed straight into the stadium. After entering the changing room, they changed into their away kit and pulled training bibs over their jerseys before making their way onto the pitch.
Their warm-up was far more intense than usual. Since they had spent hours riding on the bus without moving much, the coaches wanted to loosen their stiff muscles and get everyone's bodies match-ready.
Hartford United's stadium was a modest rectangular venue with a capacity of 25,000 spectators. It was also ranked last among the under-twenty-one league's stadiums, though the stands were still filling with eager supporters.
During the warm-up, Winston found the constant attention from the medical staff increasingly frustrating. Several medics watched his every movement, making sure he didn't overexert himself after his recent collapse. Whenever he tried to increase the intensity of his drills or push his body harder, one of them would immediately step in.
"Take it easy, Winston."
"Don't push yourself."
He clenched his jaw and eased off, knowing they were only looking out for him. Still, being forced to hold back when he wanted to prove himself irritated him more than he cared to admit.
On the opposite side of the field, Hartford United's players kept glancing at Winston, whispering among themselves whenever he came into view. None of the Westminster players noticed. They were too focused on their intense warm-up to pay any attention to the opposition.
After the warm-up, Winston was the first player escorted back to the changing room. The medical staff immediately checked his pulse, blood pressure, and body temperature. The examination itself wasn't too bad, but Winston winced when one of the medics sprayed freezing cold spray across both of his thighs.
When they finally finished, Oswin couldn't resist. "Look at our little princess getting the VIP treatment."
The changing room burst into laughter. Winston rubbed the back of his head, his face reddening with embarrassment as Oswin continued teasing him.
Once everyone had settled down, the head coach gathered the team around the tactics board. He reviewed the formation one final time before once again stressing the importance of maintaining the same disciplined defensive line they had used in the previous match.
Moments later, Westminster walked down the tunnel.
As Winston stepped onto the pitch, he felt a piercing gaze fixed on him. He glanced toward Hartford's lineup and noticed several players whispering while staring in his direction. The moment he looked back, they acted as if nothing had happened.
After the captains met the referee for the coin toss, Hartford United won the kickoff. Being rooted to the bottom of the league table, Hartford had nothing left to lose. Relegation loomed over them, so they played with desperation from the opening whistle.
They immediately pushed Westminster deep into their own half with aggressive pressing and sharp forward passes. Their wingers tracked back tirelessly, while their forwards pressed every loose ball, refusing to give Westminster any time to settle into possession.
Whenever Westminster managed to win the ball, Hartford resorted to another tactic. They exaggerated the slightest contact. A shoulder bump became a fall. A light clip became a dramatic tumble.
Several Hartford players would instantly crowd around the referee, blocking his view and appealing for a foul. Unable to see the full incident, the referee repeatedly awarded Hartford free kicks.
The under-twenty-one league didn't use the Video Assistant Referee (VAR). Unlike the senior divisions, the league simply didn't have the budget for the technology, leaving every decision entirely in the referee's hands.
Despite their theatrics, Hartford failed to make the most of the free kicks they were awarded. Westminster's players grew increasingly frustrated with their opponents' shameless tactics.
Whenever Westminster recovered possession after a missed free kick, Hartford switched from gamesmanship to outright dirty play.
As one of Westminster's defenders lofted the ball toward Winston for a header, he rose to challenge for it. Just before he reached the ball, a Hartford defender drove a sharp elbow into the middle of his back.
"Argh!"
Winston cried out and crashed onto the turf, clutching his back in agony. Instead of stopping play, the referee waved him to his feet.
"Get up! Stop pretending!"
The decision instantly enraged both the Westminster bench and the players on the pitch. Several teammates rushed toward the Hartford players, who stood over Winston, sizing him up and exchanging smug smiles. Tempers flared, and after a brief confrontation, the referee handed out yellow cards to a few Westminster players for dissent.
Oswin hurried over and offered Winston a hand.
"You okay?" he asked, pulling him to his feet. "Looks like you're a target again. I hate playing against desperate teams. They'll do anything to win."
"Yeah... I'm fine," Winston replied, rubbing his aching back. "Do they really think they'll win by playing like this?"
"Forget them," Oswin muttered, glaring at Hartford. "I'm not letting them win this match."
"Don't stoop to their level," Winston said, stretching his sore back.
Oswin clicked his tongue before backing toward his position.
"Come on. They're restarting the game."
After all the protests died down, the referee restarted play with a dropped ball in Hartford's favor. Winston immediately pressed the ball carrier.
Caught off guard by the pressure, Hartford began exchanging hurried, reckless passes. Winston seized the opportunity, intercepted one of them, and drove forward at the retreating defenders.
This time, instead of trying to beat everyone himself, he slipped the ball out to Oswin on the left wing.
Oswin accelerated down the flank before lifting the ball over his marker with a perfectly timed sombrero flick. He sprinted past the stunned defender, reached the byline, and whipped a curling cross into the crowded penalty area.
Winston timed his run perfectly. He rose above the defenders and powered a looping header toward the top corner. The Hartford goalkeeper reacted brilliantly, stretching at full length to palm the ball over the crossbar.
Corner kick.
Now growing more confident in his aerial ability, Winston stayed inside the penalty area for the corner kick. Hartford's defenders immediately surrounded him.
One stamped on his foot. Another drove an elbow into his stomach. The referee remained oblivious. Hartford's players crowded his line of sight so effectively that he couldn't see what was happening inside the box.
The home crowd loved every second of it. Having endured defeat after defeat throughout the season, Hartford's supporters had long accepted relegation. Before the match, many had even mocked their own team online, demanding that if they were going down, they should at least make the game entertaining.
Hartford responded in the ugliest way possible. They made Winston—the league's hottest goalscorer—their primary target.
Fighting to catch his breath, Winston finally snapped. He drove an elbow into the stomach of one of the Hartford defenders. The referee immediately blew his whistle. The match was stopped, and Winston was shown a yellow card.
His jaw tightened with frustration.
As Oswin prepared to take the corner again, Winston widened his stance, using his elbows and shoulders to create space. The delivery curled toward the six-yard box, but before Winston could rise, another Hartford defender kneed him in the chest while another clipped his face with an arm.
The Hartford defense managed to head the ball clear and launched a quick counterattack. Blood trickled from the corner of Winston's mouth as he turned and sprinted back to help defend.
Three Westminster defenders held their line while four Hartford attackers charged forward, one carrying the ball. The defenders retreated in unison, keeping their shape while glancing between the runners and the ball.
In the end, Hartford's attack broke down. The through pass toward the left wing was overhit, allowing the ball to roll harmlessly out of reach. Only then did the referee notice the blood running from Winston's mouth.
He immediately stopped play and called the medical staff onto the field. While Winston received treatment on the touchline, the match continued without him.
Hartford quickly shifted their attention to Oswin. However, Oswin refused to give them the opportunity.
The moment he received possession, he released the ball with one or two touches, denying Hartford any chance to foul him. Realizing Winston had been singled out all game, Oswin understood he could easily become the next target if he held onto the ball for too long.
For the remainder of the half, Westminster controlled possession patiently, moving the ball across the pitch while waiting for openings. Eventually, the referee waved Winston back onto the field.
This time, Winston kept things simple. He didn't force dribbles. He didn't burst forward on solo runs. Instead, he conserved his energy, circulated possession with quick passes, and allowed the ball to do the work.
That cautious approach carried Westminster through the remainder of the first half.
In the second half, Westminster maintained the same approach. Their tactic was to frustrate Hartford, forcing them to retreat whenever the ball reached Winston, Oswin, the winger, or the attacking midfielder.
Hartford, meanwhile, showed little urgency. Sitting at the bottom of the league, they had little left to fight for. What truly pressured them were their own supporters. The fans had been promised an entertaining match, and Hartford wasn't delivering. The boos grew louder with every passing minute until the Hartford players finally began pressing aggressively.
That impatience played right into Westminster's hands. The moment Hartford overcommitted, Westminster launched a lightning-fast counterattack.
The move began deep in their own half. A series of quick, accurate passes carried the ball into midfield before flowing into a crisp sequence of tiki-taka exchanges between the midfielders and forwards.
Winston was the first to break away from the passing pattern. Instead of asking for the ball, he sprinted beyond the midfield and positioned himself shoulder to shoulder with Hartford's center-backs.
As if on cue, Oswin received the ball.
He worked his magic without wasting a touch. This time, there was no showboating. In one smooth motion, he performed an elastico before immediately chaining it into a roll-and-scissors combination, leaving his marker completely wrong-footed. Bursting inside from the left flank, he glided past another defender.
Winston pointed into the space behind the defense and exploded forward. One defender managed to grab a handful of his shirt, but it wasn't enough to slow him down. Oswin slipped a perfectly weighted through ball into his path.
Keeping his shoulders relaxed, Winston met the pass in stride and calmly guided the ball beneath the goalkeeper's outstretched arm and into the back of the net.
Thwack!!!!
[DAILY USER CHALLENGES]
[Goals: 01/01]
[Completed]
[Reward: 05]
The Westminster supporters erupted in celebration. After enduring Hartford's constant fouls and gamesmanship, they finally had something to cheer about, taunting the home fans with deafening chants.
Once Westminster's celebrations came to an end, the match resumed. With time slipping away, Hartford threw everything forward in search of an equalizer. They pressed aggressively and committed more players to the attack, desperate to salvage something from the match. Westminster, however, had no intention of allowing them any momentum.
Whenever Hartford lost possession, Westminster refused to force another attack. Instead, they calmly recycled the ball across the back line before switching play from one flank to the other, making Hartford chase tirelessly. Every failed press forced Hartford to retreat and rebuild their defensive shape from scratch.
The pattern repeated itself over and over. Hartford ran. Westminster passed. Hartford pressed. Westminster switched the play again.
As the minutes ticked away, Hartford's frustration grew while Westminster remained composed, dictating the tempo until the referee finally brought the match to an end with the final whistle.
Fwreeett! Fwreeett! Fwreeett!