Red Zone: The Greatest Ever

Narrator: Akira

"What is football?" A simple question, one that had many answers, but no one dared speak. We knew better than to speak. Here, silence was better than not speaking. A hand came up soon enough. He was told to speak, and he said this: "Football is a team-oriented sport where two teams of eleven players compete to score more goals. It requires extreme balance and ability in both attack and defense."

"Is that so?" "Yes," he nodded affirmatively to our instructor's question. "Well, you are wrong, as wrong as one can be," our instructor responded. "Football is not about who scores the most goals but who concedes the least number of goals. For example, if zero goals are scored against your team, you quite literally can't lose. A good attack wins you games, but a good defense wins you titles."

"The defense, and most importantly, its last line—you, goalkeepers—are the ones who hold all the power in football. You are the shadow that lets the light of the attack shine.

Like the soldiers of Napoleon, you fight and struggle to carry the team, knowing fully well that you might not get the appreciation you deserve, and the top goal scorers, a category you probably never will belong in, get almost all the credit."

"At Red Zone, we require only the best and nothing else. You goalkeepers are the heart of the team. You are the ones who decide matches. You carry the team to titles. You basically are the team. Whether the team succeeds or fails is entirely up to you and no one else. What are you good at? Shot-stopping? Positioning? Commanding the defense? Distribution? Diving? Handling? Kicking? Reflexes? All of the aforementioned? None of the aforementioned? It does not matter. Show us what you can do and why you belong in Red Zone. Is that understood?" "Yes sir," we all nodded in unison.

This was the message passed to all goalkeepers at Red Zone. It was true, yes, but I have not been at my best. I was one of the lowest-ranked goalkeepers. I had somehow managed to concede seven goals in just two matches. And although I was meant to be the one carrying the team, it was the other way around. I am only incredibly lucky to have teammates like SANTI and JAMES. They were the ones carrying the team, and with ENZO and FOLA joining the party, things looked bright for our team.

That was all good, but I could not just sit and be useless. I have to do something. I must be useful. I needed to make an impact.

Otherwise, I could be on my way out of Red Zone sooner than later. I had the perfect chance now, though. Our next match was the perfect chance to redeem myself. Our next game was starting in ten minutes. It was a penalty shootout—that was all, nothing else.

We would be playing Team F. I had the perfect chance to redeem myself, and boy will I take it. I've slacked off far too long.

No goal will go past me today. That was certain. My mind was made up. There would be no player switching this match, but I knew that if I performed badly today and we won the next game, I was off the team. Steward was a better player than I was, and he was thrown off the team very quickly.

Okay, time's up. Time to go out and win the game for my team. The game worked this way: it was a first to five, but it had to be a five-gap lead—not necessarily who got to five first. It had to be a 5-0 lead. A 5-4 or 5-3 lead would only be recorded as 1-0 and 2-0 leads respectively. If both teams score their penalties ten times in a row, both teams will still be on zero goals.

This shootout felt like a test of willpower more than anything else. It was up to me to decide who won today's game. Hopefully, it won't take too long. I will ensure I concede zero goals. The first round began. The first player from Team F stepped up. It was their No.9, a composed Striker, eyes focused, like this was just another routine shot for him. I could see the determination in his posture. He shot hard and low to my left, but I was ready. I dove, my fingertips pushing the ball just wide of the post. A solid start.

My team's No.10, FOLA, having taken the number 10 from his brother and dumping the No.7 down his throat, stepped up to take the first penalty. He told us he would begin the charge to victory, and it was left to us to ensure his penalty counts since he unfortunately can't do this without us. JAMES told him to ensure he does not miss, and this was his response: "No one's got game like me. I never miss, and I make miracles happen."

FOLA walked up confidently and struck the ball exceptionally well—a violent curved shot toward the top left corner of the goalpost. But their goalkeeper flew with equal ferocity and parried it away. No goals in the first round.

This might not be so easy. I was not bad, but their goalkeeper did not suck either.

It was their turn now, and their second player tried to trick me with a stutter step. I didn't bite. He shot to my right, and I was already there, palming the ball away with authority. Another save. I was two for two. I am the King today. SANTI, who are you?

ENZO stepped up next. I watched as he sized up the keeper, then calmly slotted it into the bottom corner. The weight of the first goal was immense. It gave us some confidence, and we could see the loss of composure on the other team's face. It was only a goal lead, though, and there was a long way to go.

Team F's No.10 stepped up next, taking a deep breath before his run-up. His shot was precise, aimed low and hard toward the bottom right. I got a fingertip to it, but it wasn't enough—it slipped into the net. 1-1. I had bottled our lead. It stung, but I could not dwell on it. It has happened. Nothing I can do about it. I just have to ensure I save the next one.

JAMES was up next. He scores like 90% of his penalties in training. He would give us the lead, I'm sure of it. He took his shot, and it was a chipped shot straight down the middle, right at the keeper—an easy save for their side, and we were still tied. What the hell was he thinking? To do this at such a time!

The fourth round began, and I stared down their next player, trying to get into his head. I told him this would be an easy save for me.

There was no way he would score. He looked a bit nervous, and his shot reflected that. A weak effort to my left, easily saved.

SANTI stepped up for us, as confident as ever in himself. He powered the ball into the top left corner, well beyond the keeper's reach. He had zero chance. 2-1. That's my boy. The pressure was building, but we were holding up really well.

The fifth round began now, and their center-back stepped up—their No.3. He was quite clearly out of his comfort zone. His shot was powerful but too predictable, and I read it perfectly, diving to my right and punching it away. That makes four saves now. I was carrying my team so hard. The next goal gets scored, and we'll be well on our way to victory.

Aart, our No.6, stepped up for our next penalty. He hit the ball with a lot of power but almost no precision. It went wide, flying harmlessly past the post. We had an opening, but we weren't capitalizing yet.

Their sixth man approached, looking frustrated. He kicked it hard and low, but I was ready. Diving left, I managed to push the ball around the post. The pressure was getting to them, and I was in their heads, like a never-ending nightmare. I had saved five out of six penalties. If that was not great, I have no idea what was.

ANDREW stepped up to take our sixth penalty. He looked up, probably saying a prayer, took a deep breath, and shot low. The ball grazed the keeper's fingers but nestled into the bottom left corner. 3-1. Wehad a two-goal lead now, but the five-goal cushion still seemed far away.

Their next player stepped up, and unlike the one before him, he looked confident and completely unfazed. He took a few extra seconds before running up and smashing the ball right down the middle. I had already committed to my dive, so I had zero chance.

3-2. Victory did not look so certain right now.

Our Right-Back looked calm as he approached the ball, but the keeper made an outstanding save, diving full-stretch to tip the ball wide. No progress for us in maintaining our lead. I had to do more, much more. If I had not let those two goals in, we would have a three-goal lead now. I must ensure I concede zero goals. I had to do much more if I was to become the team's SAVIOUR...….