Chapter 31 - 29 - The Pass

Chapter 31: Chapter 29 - The Pass

The score remained level until halftime.

The Metz coach waited until the players had taken their seats and started drinking.

"Don’t chase them because you’re tired of them having the ball. That’s what they want."

He pointed toward the midfield.

"If we go, we go together. Otherwise stay compact."

Then he looked at Rafael.

"Keep changing where you start. He’s changing with you."

Rafael nodded.

The coach moved on to the next point.

There was no speech to give.

PSG had seen Metz’s answer, and now the second half would decide who adjusted better.

They controlled possession again after the restart.

Metz did not press every pass this time.

Rafael closed when the midfield could come with him and held his position when it could not.

At some point he remembered the first-team coach was still in the stand.

The thought disappeared almost as quickly as it came.

PSG moved the ball toward their goalkeeper again.

Rafael could have chased.

He stayed where the structure needed him.

Metz’s best chance of the half came from a turnover near midfield.

One of their midfielders recovered the ball and drove into PSG’s half.

Rafael began centrally with Delorme beside him.

The midfielder looked forward.

Rafael moved toward the near side and made himself available for the pass.

This time the threat was real.

Delorme stepped with him.

Rafael kept moving across his path instead of stopping for the ball.

The midfielder saw the space behind them.

Yanis saw it too.

He sprinted inside from the right.

The pass released him into the penalty area.

Yanis took one touch and shot across goal.

The goalkeeper threw himself toward the far side and pushed the ball away.

It travelled beyond everyone.

Yanis slowed near the six-yard box and looked back in frustration.

Rafael raised a hand before turning toward halfway.

PSG restarted quickly.

The match tightened after that.

Metz spent longer without the ball, and the spaces Rafael had found before halftime became harder to reach.

Delorme no longer stood directly against him every second.

Sometimes he left Rafael for the defensive midfielder and protected the space behind instead.

Other times he came forward.

Rafael had to keep checking which version he was dealing with.

Then Metz recovered possession near the centre circle.

The midfielder who won it had a PSG player arriving behind him.

Rafael was ahead.

Delorme appeared to be giving him room.

It was only a step, perhaps less, but enough to make the pass look available.

Rafael recognised the danger as the midfielder turned.

"Hold—"

The pressure reached the midfielder before Rafael finished.

With the safer pass behind him closed, he played forward.

Delorme moved.

He had been waiting for it.

The defender stepped across Rafael and took the ball cleanly.

There was no pause after the interception.

He passed wide.

PSG attacked while Metz still had players moving forward from the turnover.

The wide player carried possession several metres before sending it into midfield.

Metz retreated.

PSG switched the attack before they could settle.

The opposite winger received near the penalty area.

A defender was still moving across when he opened his body.

The shot went across the goalkeeper.

The far corner of the net moved.

Rafael stopped outside the box.

Delorme was already running back.

There had been nothing spectacular about what he had done.

He had shown the midfielder enough space to believe the pass was available, then taken it as soon as it came.

PSG led again.

Metz pushed higher after that.

Their fullbacks advanced earlier and the midfield took more risks, but PSG had less reason to leave space now.

A pass finally reached Rafael with Delorme tight behind him.

Rafael felt the defender before the ball arrived.

The turn was gone.

He returned it first time.

Metz kept possession.

The eventual cross was cleared, but they were still around PSG’s penalty area instead of running back from another turnover.

The clock continued toward ninety.

Metz attacked again from the left.

PSG forced them backwards.

The ball went across midfield and reached Yanis on the opposite side.

He created enough room for one final cross.

Rafael began toward the near post.

Delorme followed.

Rafael changed direction.

The defender changed with him.

The cross arrived.

Delorme reached it first.

His header carried beyond the penalty area.

A Metz midfielder ran toward the loose ball, but the referee had already looked at his watch.

The whistle sounded.

For a moment, Rafael remained inside the box.

PSG’s substitutes were already moving onto the pitch.

Their players gathered near the centre circle while the Metz team stayed spread across the field.

One teammate sat down where he had been standing.

Another placed both hands on his hips.

Yanis stared toward PSG before lowering his head.

Rafael had lost matches that cost more than this one during his first life.

Promotion.

Contracts.

Places in teams.

That knowledge did not make the disappointment disappear.

There would be no next U19 fixture.

No Monday conversation about fixing what had gone wrong before the following weekend.

This season was finished.

Delorme reached him while the teams began crossing the pitch.

He offered his hand.

"Good game."

Rafael took it. "You too."

Delorme returned to PSG.

Rafael walked toward Yanis and the others.

They entered the changing room without much conversation.

Nobody rushed to change.

One player sat with his elbows on his thighs. Another stared at his boots while slowly removing the tape around his socks.

Rafael remained in the number nine shirt.

He had worn it through the run that brought them here.

He would not wear it in another competitive U19 match this season.

The thought stayed with him until the coach entered.

The room quietened.

"I know you don’t want a speech."

Nobody answered.

"You wanted the final, and you didn’t get there. It should hurt."

He looked around the room.

"But don’t let tonight erase what came before it. Some of you are better players now than you were six months ago. Some of you still have a lot of work ahead of you."

His attention never stayed on one player.

"You’ll all have individual end-of-season assessments. The academy will tell you when."

He paused before continuing.

"For tonight, stay with your teammates. This group won’t look exactly the same next season."

That landed harder than anything else he had said.

A few players looked around the room.

The coach left them there.

Eventually, people began standing.

Yanis pulled the tape from his socks and reached for his towel.

Rafael had started doing the same when the assistant coach appeared at the door.

"Morales."

Rafael looked up.

"Stay after you’ve changed."

He waited for the rest.

The assistant lowered his voice slightly, although the nearest players could still hear him.

"The first-team head coach wants to speak with you."

Rafael’s hand stopped against the tape around his ankle.

The assistant was already leaving.

Two teammates glanced toward him but said nothing.

Yanis stood beside his locker with the towel over one shoulder.

Normally there would have been a comment.

This time he only gave Rafael a small nod before following the others toward the showers.

Rafael remained seated.

A meeting meant very little on its own.

He knew that better than anyone in the room.

In his first life, managers had promised opportunities and changed their minds days later. Agents had turned casual interest into imaginary offers, while clubs spoke about plans that disappeared the moment someone else became available.

Until something existed in writing, it could vanish.

Rafael pulled away the rest of the tape and started changing.

Still, the first-team head coach had watched the entire semifinal.

And he had stayed.

When Rafael finally left the dressing room, voices from his teammates followed him into the corridor.

The first-team coach was waiting upstairs.