Become A Football Legend-Chapter 229: João’s Turn III

Bahoya laughed. "They boo like it’s personal. Even warm-ups feel hostile."

From behind them, Knauff groaned and pulled his hood tighter over his face. "Can you two keep it down? Some of us are trying to sleep before a derby."

Lukas smiled faintly but didn’t join in. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his AirPods, and slipped one into his right ear, leaving the other free. He unlocked his iPad, opened YouTube, and tapped on a live stream already waiting at the top of his feed.

Larsson noticed the change almost immediately. He leaned slightly toward Lukas, eyes flicking to the screen. "What are you watching?"

Lukas tilted the iPad just enough for him to see. The image showed a modest stadium, a narrow pitch, a static camera angle, and players in simple kits jogging into position. The broadcast banner read: SV Darmstadt 98 II vs Hanauer SC 1960.

Larsson squinted. "Darmstadt?"

Lukas nodded. "Yeah. My old club."

"You watch them often?" Larsson asked.

"Whenever I can," Lukas replied. "But live? Not really anymore. Since January, we’re always playing the same weekends."

Larsson chuckled softly. "Same for me. Malmö plays while we’re traveling or training half the time. You miss it more than you think."

He watched the stream for a few seconds, then asked, "What league is this?"

"Hessenliga," Lukas said. "Fifth tier."

Larsson raised his eyebrows. "And you’re tuning in on the bus to a Bundesliga derby?"

Lukas smiled and zoomed the camera slightly as play restarted. "My best friend’s playing."

He pointed at the screen. A tall center-back wearing number 4 moved into position, no name printed on the back of his shirt.

"That one," Lukas said.

Larsson stared for a moment, then scoffed dramatically. "Wow. I thought I was your best friend." 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Lukas laughed quietly, nudging him with his elbow. "You’re top five. Don’t worry."

Bahoya turned around in his seat, curious now. "Wait, that’s actually your friend?"

"Yeah," Lukas said. "Grew up together."

From behind them, Uzun leaned forward over the seatback, chin resting on his forearms. "What are we watching?"

Lukas angled the iPad so all three could see. "Darmstadt II."

Uzun whistled softly. "That’s proper dedication."

The bus kept moving, Mainz drawing closer with every kilometer, while inside, three Bundesliga players watched a fifth-tier match in quiet focus. On the screen, number 4 stepped forward to intercept a pass cleanly, pushing the ball wide to a teammate. Lukas nodded almost imperceptibly, eyes never leaving the display.

The little livestream ticked along smoothly on Lukas’s iPad, the shaky wide camera doing its best to keep up as Darmstadt II moved the ball around at a patient, deliberate tempo. It wasn’t the kind of football that made highlight reels on its own, but Lukas watched with a focus that surprised even himself. Every time the camera panned toward the defensive line, his eyes instinctively found the number 4.

A striker tried to spin in behind early in the half, but João read it before the ball was even released. He stepped across the attacker’s path, shoulder first, clean and firm, nudging him off balance before calmly poking the ball away and rolling it to his fullback. Larsson let out a low whistle.

"Strong," he muttered, leaning closer.

"He’s very strong," Lukas replied, unable to keep the pride out of his voice.

A few minutes later, Darmstadt conceded a corner. João stayed back as the ball was swung in, rose above everyone else, and headed it clear with authority, then immediately shouted instructions, arms out, organizing the line as if he had been doing it for a decade. On the replay, Uzun chuckled.

"He talks like a captain already."

"He’s always been like that," Lukas said. "Even when we were kids."

What impressed them more was the recovery run not long after. João had gone up for another corner at the other end and the clearance turned into a counter. The winger broke free down the flank, but before the situation could even look dangerous, João came tearing back into frame, sprinting diagonally across the pitch and sliding in at full stretch to block the cross with his shin. The camera shook as the home crowd applauded the effort. Lukas clenched his fist without even realizing it.

Then there was the passing. From deep, João sprayed a diagonal ball out to the right wing that cut through two lines of pressure, landing perfectly in stride. A few plays later, he switched it left with his weaker foot, unfazed, head always up, body open.

"He sees the game," Larsson said quietly.

When the 70th minute arrived, Darmstadt earned another corner. João jogged into the box this time, hands on hips, taking a deep breath. The ball was delivered hard and flat toward the near post. João timed his run perfectly, powered through his marker, and met it with his forehead. The sound carried even through the stream, a sharp crack, and the ball flew into the net before the goalkeeper could react.

Lukas punched the air once, sharp and contained, a small smile breaking across his face.

"Yes," he whispered, more to himself than anyone else.

Behind them, voices stirred. Koch had been standing there for a while, arms folded, watching over their shoulders.

"He’s good," he said finally. "Really good."

Lukas turned, surprised.

"I wasn’t that calm at eighteen," Koch continued, eyes still on the screen. "Not even close. And calm is everything for a centre-back. Strength, pace, you can train those. This"—he tapped the side of his head—"comes with time. And he already has it."

Larsson grinned. "So what you’re saying is..."

"I’m saying," Koch cut in, "he’s good enough for Darmstadt’s first team. Easily." He paused, then added, almost casually, "Maybe even for some Bundesliga clubs too."

Lukas felt something warm settle in his chest at that. Koch glanced at him.

"What’s his Instagram?"

Lukas unlocked his phone without hesitation and passed it back. Koch typed, hit follow, and nodded once as if the matter was settled.

On the screen, João jogged back toward his half, clapped his hands once, and pointed at a teammate, already refocusing. Lukas leaned back into his seat, the bus humming beneath him, and let himself enjoy the moment.

* * *

The little park stadium breathed differently once the ball hit the net.

It was not a roar, not the kind Lukas was used to now, not thunderous or overwhelming. It was lighter, warmer. A ripple of applause, scattered cheers, parents standing up almost in surprise, hands clapping above jackets and scarves. In one corner of the stand, the Gimenez household erupted anyway, as if it were a cup final.

Carlos was on his feet instantly, clapping hard, a proud laugh escaping him as he turned to Sofia, who had both hands over her mouth, eyes shining. Joanna jumped up and wrapped her arms around her mother before throwing her fists into the air, laughing. Reuben was already screaming, voice cracking with excitement.

"THAT’S MY BROTHER! THAT’S MY BROTHER!"

A few heads turned. Someone chuckled. Another fan smiled and clapped along, amused by the boy’s unfiltered joy in a stadium quiet enough for it to echo.

A/N: This last month of the year has been a very weird one for me. I’ve not uploaded as frequently as I wanted to, and several things have just been coming up. But hopefully next year will be wonderful.

Happy New Year to you all!

-Writ