He slept the sleep of the just, the lovestruck, and the newly motivated. When the first ray of sunlight crept through the window, his eyes were already open. The ghost of 23–0 and 10–0 felt like something from another life. Today, the world seemed different. Brighter.
He jumped out of bed before the alarm even rang. There was a day and a half left before the opening game. It wasn't much time, but for his new mindset, it was an eternity of opportunity. Without hesitation, he grabbed the futsal ball that sat in the corner of his room and went out to the small concrete backyard.
THUMP... THUMP... THUMP. The sound of the ball bouncing off the wall was his morning music. He wasn't trying fancy moves. He focused on the basics. Controlling the ball. Feeling its weight. Making his feet — once so unfamiliar to it — become friends.
"Good morning, Fuzzball. Good morning, Soft Paw," he said to the cats watching him from the kitchen window. "Today, we're gonna show the world how a Tiger roars."
After about twenty minutes of solo training, he came back inside, sweaty and happy. He took a quick shower, devoured breakfast, and found his mother in the living room.
"Where did this energy come from, my son? It's Saturday and you're up before the roosters."
"Today is an important day, Mom. The final day of preparation. I need to be at my best."
"That sparkle in your eyes... it's not just football, is it?" she asked, with the wisdom of a mother who sees beyond words.
Elismar smiled, his face turning a little red. "It's for everything, Mom. For everything."
He left the house and, as if the universe were finally on his side, Clara was already waiting at the corner. She no longer wore the uncomfortable clothes from the previous day, opting for something in between: jeans and a band t-shirt, but the shine on her lips was still there.
"Good morning, champ," she said, her smile warming the morning air.
"Good morning, my personal coach," he replied, and they exchanged a quick kiss — a gesture that now felt natural, a ritual.
They walked to school hand-in-hand, talking about tactics, about the weaknesses of the other teams, about how they would celebrate the title. Her confidence fueled his, and vice versa.
When they arrived at school, they found the rest of the Gentle Tigers gathered, the atmosphere around them noticeably less gloomy.
"Hey, captain!" said Piter. "I dreamed Markin turned into a brick wall in the goal."
"And I dreamed my shot broke the sound barrier!" added Lester, with an enthusiasm no one had ever seen in him.
"That's good. Keep that energy," said Elismar. "The strategy is simple: solid defense. Markin, you're our wall. I'm the first barrier. Piter and Lester, help with marking, don't let them shoot from distance. Ryan, your job is to annoy their playmaker, stay on him, give him no space. And in attack, let's be smart. One goal. We just need one goal."
They had barely finished talking when the P.E. teacher, whistle hanging around his neck, approached."Gentle Tigers and Red Fury! To the court! Last practice before tomorrow!"
Red Fury was a mid-tier team known for their quick passing. On any other day, just hearing their name would've caused panic in the Tigers. Today, they looked at each other and nodded. They were ready.
The game began. As expected, Red Fury came in strong. Their striker, a fast and skilled kid, came at Elismar. The old Elismar would've lunged in and ended up on the ground. The new Elismar timed it. He kept his distance, forced the attacker onto his weaker side, and at the right moment, struck. It wasn't clean — the ball still deflected — but he won the tackle. It was hard, but he did it.
"YES, ELISMAR!" shouted Markin from the goal.
That play filled the team with confidence. Red Fury tried again. This time, a long shot. Markin, eyes locked on the ball, didn't flinch. He positioned himself and punched the ball out with both hands, sending it to the sideline. A real goalkeeper's save!
The game stayed tense, 0–0. Elismar was running like never before, his breath heavy, but his mind clear. He stole another ball at midfield. Instead of going solo, he looked around. He saw the movement.
"LESTER!" he shouted, passing the ball to the wing.
Lester controlled it. He didn't even think of shooting. He saw Piter positioning himself as the pivot, near the box. He passed it to Piter. The rehearsed play — the same one that failed miserably against the Roof Falcons — now flowed.
Piter received the ball with his back to goal. The Red Fury defender stuck to him. Piter used his body, turning like a heavy tractor. He shielded the ball, spun the right way, and with a quick touch, surprised the goalkeeper, sending the ball into the corner.
GOOOOOAL!
A stunned silence took over the small crowd. And then, an explosion. The five Gentle Tigers hugged in the middle of the court like they had just won the World Cup. Piter was in disbelief. Lester jumped nonstop. Ryan was hugging Markin's leg. And Elismar, in the middle of that bundle of joy, looked to the bleachers. Clara was standing, clapping, her smile the brightest he'd ever seen.
Red Fury, furious, tried everything in the final minutes. But the Gentle Tigers, led by an inspired Elismar and a miraculous Markin, defended with tooth and nail. The final whistle blew.
Gentle Tigers 1 – 0 Red Fury.The first victory.
The opposing team left the court stomping, in disbelief."How did we lose to those guys?" one of them grumbled.
While his friends celebrated, Elismar went over to Clara.
"You saw that? Did you see that?!" he said, breathless and beaming.
"I saw it," she replied, her blue eyes shining. And without caring who was watching, she pulled him by the collar and gave him a long kiss."I told you you could do it."
The rest of the day was a blur of happiness. The victory, even in a practice match, changed everything. They were no longer a joke. They were a team that could win. They agreed to one last quick practice at the neighborhood court, just to keep the rhythm. And there, playing among themselves, the magic continued. The ball flowed, the passes connected, confidence was in the air.
As the sun began to set, Elismar said goodbye to Clara with another kiss, promising victory the next day.
He got home exhausted — but electric.
"Mom! We won! We won the practice match! One to zero! Piter scored the goal!" he announced, throwing his backpack onto the couch.
Dona Valdi hugged him. "I knew it, my son! I knew you guys could do it!"
He showered, had dinner, and finally retreated to his sanctuary: his bedroom. Soft Paw and Fuzzball watched him, as if sensing the different energy.
"We did it," he whispered to them, lying on his bed. "We won. Just one goal, just a practice match, but... it was the first time. And tomorrow... tomorrow will be unforgettable. I can feel it."
He closed his eyes, a smile glued to his face.There were no more doubts. No more fear.Only the certainty that tomorrow would be the first chapter of a completely new story.And he was very, very happy.