Football singularity-Chapter 419 Haaland?

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[20:00]

The air in the Germany U-20 dressing room was thick with sweat and adrenaline. The echoes of the roaring crowd outside had barely begun to fade as the players crashed onto the benches, some laughing, others still catching their breath. "Eight to one!" Kevin Ehlers shook his head in disbelief as he wiped sweat from his brow. "We massacred them, I think I even saw one of them crying after Wirtz banged in number 7."

"Hey, don’t blame it on me unlike Mr bogeyman over here who bagged 5 and decided to assist one just because he could even though he was one on one with the keeper." Wirtz quickly defended himself causing another bout of laughter to ensure in the changing room. "Like for real what did they say to make you crash out and drop a nightmare on them."

All gazes turned towards Rakim who was taking out his worn-down Apex11’s World Cup edition which had been new at the start of the match. They had all seen him try more than he would usually as he actively called for the ball and seemed to appear whenever they needed an outlet for passes. The guy was everywhere taking his free-roaming role to the next level as at some point he was dropping down to their own box to collect the ball.

That was when they were winning 6:0 and he had already scored a hat trick, so despite no one dare to ask during the game they all believed that one of the Mexico players had killed his dog or something. That was the only way to explain it as the winger had been ruthless performing his signature griddy after each goal even when it wasn’t him that scored. "Huh I just love scoring goals," Rakim responded with a straight face causing his teammates to send their dirty socks flying towards him.

"Yeah, and I love ice cream don’t mean I’m gonna start a war to get it," Angelo said in exasperation not willing to accept that response as the reason for what he had just witnessed. he had made the starting lineup for this match and had a front row seat to what had quickly turned into the Rakim show.

"Fine the guy said something about my limited-edition Naruto Kimono, my card collection and something about my girl, but it was the comment on my Pj’s that pushed me over the edge," Rakim explained with a serious expression as he began packing up his stuff ready to hit the shower. "Oh, by one of them thought he could get a rise out of me by talking about my dread, what a rookie."

The room fell silent following his words as Rakim Headed for the showers, but no one dared to speak a word. They all looked into each other’s eyes with a mixture of surprised, baffled, stupefied and incredulous expressions. One thought quickly settled in everyone’s minds, but it was Youssoufa Moukoko who voiced it. "This N*$$a Crazy with a capital C. Wirtz you might want to move room he the type sleepwalk and hold conversations with himself."

~~~

[20:30]

Half an hour later all the players had taken their turn in the shower as they cleaned up and freshened themselves. The windows and mirrors were steaming from the hot vapour almost misty as the players sprayed their deodorants as if they were banishing the sweat. None of them minded this though as they listened to music and relished in their victory and the completion of the group stage.

It was at this moment that Coach Baum barged into the changing room and started coughing violently as he waded through the dense fog of deodorant and sweat, swatting at the air as if he were trying to clear a battlefield of smoke. "Jesus Christ, you lot trying to fumigate the place?" he wheezed, his voice gravelly from years of shouting at players.

A few chuckles broke out as the players exchanged glances. Kevin Ehlers fanned his nose dramatically. "Blame Wirtz, he went overboard after his third spray—suffocating all of us."

"Unlike you lot I have a girl whom I have to smell nice for, can’t be picking up bad habits just because they grouped me with the smelliest players in all of Germany." Wirtz shot back.

Coach Baum ignored the banter and clapped his hands twice, snapping everyone’s attention back to him. "Alright, listen up, I’ve got the final group standings and your next opponent.

"Silence fell over the dressing room, as they all craned their neks to hear what their gaffer would say. Baum smirked. "First off, congratulations, boys. Topping the group. Unbeaten. 12 goals in three matches. That’s how you send a message. But don’t get ahead of yourselves, the knockout rounds are a different beast."

Angelo Stiller leaned forward, rubbing his hands together. "Alright, spill it. Who’s next boss?"

Baum pulled out a folded piece of paper from his tracksuit pocket and straightened it. "We’re facing Norway in the Round of 16." A few murmurs broke out.

"Norway?" Jamie Leweling scratched his head. "Didn’t they finish second in Group C?"

"Yeah," Malik Tillman chimed in. "Uruguay topped it, but Norway were solid. Two wins, one loss. They beat New Zealand and Honduras but lost to Uruguay."

Baum nodded. "Exactly. They’re a physical team, they fight for every ball, and they’ve got that kid Haaland up top—"

"Haaland, does anyone know that kid?" Wirtz’s eyes widened slightly.

"Bro he is like 3 years older than you and If I’m not wrong that kid is the current top goal scorer with 11 goals after dumping 8 on Honduras yesterday." Rakim cut in, shaking his head causing quite a few in the room to scowl with more serious demeanours.

A hush settled over the room as the gravity of the name sank in. None of them had ever seen this Erling Haaland fellow but could already imagine a giant after finding out he had bagged 8 goals just yesterday. Lenn Jastremski scoffed, cracking his knuckles. "Eight goals against Honduras? That isn’t impressive. Y’all saw what we did to Mexico, right?"

"Yo, weren’t you on the bench?" Youssoufa Moukoko mercilessly commented barely containing his snicker. Angelo and Wirtz on the other hand weren’t as polite as they directly burst out laughing, "Ahaha, but he’s right though, we could have doubled our goal tally if we had played Honduras today."

Lenn wanted to retort but Baum was quick to put an end to the discussion. He flipped over his tablet showcasing all of the brackets, "Now that I have your attention, here’s the full bracket. The top two teams from each group have gone through, just like in a senior World Cup. We’re about to see some heavy clashes.

The dressing room, once filled with post-match euphoria, now quieted as all eyes locked onto the bracket displayed on Coach Baum’s tablet. The tension shifted from celebratory to focused in an instant.

"Alright, listen up," Baum began, scanning the team. "We know our opponent—Norway. But before we get into that, let’s go over the full bracket. The group stage is done, and these are the sixteen teams moving forward."

He adjusted the screen, and the tournament tree became visible:

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Round of 16 Matchups:

1) Senegal vs. Nigeria

2) Uruguay vs. Columbia

3) France vs. USA

4) Germany vs. Norway

5) England vs Panama

6) Argentina vs Mali

7) Japan vs South Korea

8) Italy vs Poland

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"Looks like your boys had some bad luck and pulled franc and here I was looking forward to playing against them" Wirtz whispered to Rakim upon noticing who exactly USA was playing and quickly coming to the conclusion that France would smash them.

"You know what I’m going to lose either way. If they don’t make it, I get blamed, if they do and we beat them I get blamed, and if god forbid, they managed to get a one-in-a-million opportunity and beat us I get mocked for being an idiot." Rakim replied with a neutral smile as glanced at his friend. "I am a lot of things, Handsome, Talented, insufferable, annoying and a walking cheat code but an idiot I am not."

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To Be Continued...