NOVEL WEB Chapter 27: The January Tests
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Chapter 27 – The January Tests
The first week of January hit like a cold front.
New year, same grind.
Coach Luís Martins had posted the schedule on the locker room board:
MID-SEASON EVALUATIONS – U16 SQUAD
Two words everyone hated: Evaluations. Matches. No excuses.
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João tightened his laces until his toes went numb. His hands felt colder than usual—not from the Lisbon winter, but from something tighter, coiled in his chest.
If you failed these tests, you didn't get cut immediately. But you drifted down the list. Lower team. Fewer minutes. Less chance of becoming somebody.
Fifteen minutes before kickoff, Tiago slapped him on the back.
"You ready, maestro?"
João managed a grin. "As long as you don't give away the ball again."
"Oi!" Tiago grinned. "That was one time."
"One time per half."
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Out on the pitch, the Sporting U16 coaches stood with clipboards like vultures.
João Balde, the right back, jogged beside João on the warm-up laps. "Bro, what if I mess up today?"
João shrugged, breath fogging the cold air. "Then don't."
Balde laughed nervously. "Easy for you to say."
"I'm serious," João said, eyes straight ahead. "Mess up once, fix it twice."
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The whistle blew.
First half: internal scrimmage. Green bibs vs. white bibs.
João, in green, started as an attacking midfielder. His job? Link the play. Find the pockets. Move the ball.
Be invisible, then suddenly appear.
But Bruno Paz was pressing high. So was Miguel Luís.
João stayed patient. He drifted into space, calling for the ball. Rafa got it, dribbled sideways, lost it.
João frowned but didn't yell. He reset, dropped deeper.
Next play, Tiago intercepted. Slide the ball into João's feet.
Touch.
Turn.
Split pass, between defenders, clean through to Rafa.
Goal.
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"YES!" Rafa yelled, arms wide. "Assist king! That's why you're my guy."
João jogged back to midfield, head down, but his lips twitched.
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The coaches scribbled. Clipboard marks. Whispers between them.
João tried not to think about it.
He focused on the next play. And the next. Simple things: check shoulder, keep moving, connect.
At one point, he nutmegged Edu Pinheiro, who shouted, "Oi, lucky!"
João smirked. "Sure, Edu. Lucky every time."
The others laughed. Banter loosened the tension. Even Edu grinned, despite getting roasted.
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At halftime, Coach Martins gathered them near the benches.
"Some of you look sharp. Some of you look like you had too much bolo rei over the holidays."
Rafa nudged João. "That was you."
João whispered back, "You ate half the cafeteria, Rafa."
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The second half started. More pressure. Coaches switched teams around to test chemistry.
João played deeper now, shifting into a role closer to number eight.
He liked it—more touches, more control. He could read the game better than most.
But it wasn't perfect.
One loose pass.
One missed press.
One bad decision, too risky near their box.
"JOÃO!" Coach Martins barked. "Simplify the game!"
João bit his tongue, cheeks burning.
Next play, he kept it safe. One-two with Tiago. Switch to Balde on the flank.
He hated playing cautiously, but sometimes survival came first.
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After 90 minutes, the whistle blew.
Players collapsed onto the grass, breathing heavily. Sweat freezes on the skin.
João lay back, staring at the sky.
Fifteen years old, and life already felt like a test you couldn't cheat on.
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Later, in the locker room, Rafa threw a towel at him.
"Bro, relax. You played great."
João shrugged, peeling off his shin pads. "Could've been better."
"You could always be better," Tiago chimed in. "That's the point, right?"
João cracked a smile. "Yeah. But still. That one pass—"
"Forget it." Rafa grinned. "Worst case, you end up selling shoes. I'll hire you."
João laughed. "Deal. But you'll have to wear socks in your size."
Everyone groaned.
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As the boys laughed, João realized something.
Football wasn't just about making the team.
It was about staying sane while trying to make the team.
And for now, he was still in the game.
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