The System Turned Football's Worst Prospect Into a Monster.

Chapter 88: Volume 1, Chapter 88: Duarte Belongs Here

Wednesday morning’s session focused on high-speed wide overloads and final-third delivery. By the sixth U17 session, the technical tempo had established a clear standard, leaving no margin for delayed decisions or insecure touches.

During a four-versus-three exercise attacking the right flank, Duarte Faria produced the standout individual action of the morning. Receiving a flat, diagonal pass from midfield under tight pressure, Duarte scanned over his left shoulder before the ball arrived. Rather than stopping to control it, he cushioned his first touch into the open space ahead with the outside of his boot, instantly turning the defending full-back.

Vasco stepped across to meet him shoulder-to-shoulder, but Duarte rode the contact without losing his stride and accelerated towards the penalty area. Without a single wasted touch or step, he whipped a low, driven cross into the six-yard box, placing it perfectly into the path of Gonçalo Matos to tap into the net.

Nuno Marques watched from the sideline, nodding in quiet approval. "First touch opened everything," Marques said, his voice carrying across the pitch.

Watching from the touchline as the groups rotated, Rayan felt a sudden, sharp knot in his chest. It was not anger, but a raw, unavoidable jealousy. Rayan recognised exactly why Duarte had adapted to U17 football far more easily than Rayan had. Duarte possessed a far better technical foundation, superior physical balance under contact, and an effortless confidence built through years of being treated as one of the academy’s serious prospects. His first touch was naturally clean, and he repeated the same quality far more consistently across every drill.

The gap was obvious, and the realisation burned. Rayan did not try to instantly soothe himself with a mature, comforting thought or pretend the feeling did not exist. Instead, he forced his focus back onto the pitch. Jealousy was useless unless it was directed back into the work, and he had no intention of sitting back and wishing for Duarte to fail.

When Rayan stepped into the wide-drill rotation, he focused on refining his own quality. On his first repetition against Vasco, Rayan executed a sharp Body Feint, dropping his right shoulder before pushing the ball to the left. Vasco bought the movement, allowing Rayan to burst past the line and deliver a low pass towards the penalty spot.

On the next turn, however, Vasco anticipated the motion. As Rayan dropped his shoulder, Vasco held his ground, stepped across the dribbling lane, and intercepted the ball cleanly before Rayan could complete the exit touch.

Duarte collected a loose ball near the edge of the area and rolled it back towards the server. As he passed Rayan, his gaze dropped briefly to the ball at Rayan’s feet.

"Vasco saw that one last week," Duarte said. "You’ll need more than one trick up here."

He continued towards the back of the line before Rayan could answer. The tone was familiar. Quiet, dismissive and sharpened by the same certainty Duarte had carried before Rayan’s improvement forced him to stop.

Rayan’s jaw tightened. He wanted to point towards the first repetition, when the feint had worked, but that would have sounded like begging Duarte to count it. He turned back towards the server instead.

On the third attempt, Rayan used First-Touch Escape to cushion a high pass away from the initial presser. The touch opened half a yard, but Vasco’s recovery run closed the direct route to the box. Rather than forcing a low-percentage dribble, Rayan used a subtle Body Feint to shift Vasco’s balance just enough to play a clean back-pass to the supporting midfielder. The execution was cleaner, buying time and keeping possession active under pressure.

A short distance away, Duarte stood near the drinks station, catching his breath while the second group completed their set.

Duarte was confident in his abilities, but he did not feel completely secure. In the Sporting academy, talent brought higher expectations; the coaching staff judged an ordinary, average session from him far more harshly than a good session from someone else. He was expected to belong at this level automatically.

He glanced towards Rayan as the younger winger stepped up for another repetition. Rayan was still struggling with the speed and physical pressure of the older group, yet his corrections came disturbingly quickly. A poor reception became cleaner on the next attempt. A mistimed feint was adjusted within minutes.

Duarte had noticed the same pattern during their final months with the U16s. At first, Rayan had been easy to embarrass. Late to every picture, desperate to prove himself and technically beneath the serious prospects around him. Then the mistakes had begun disappearing faster than Duarte expected, and the jokes had stopped feeling safe.

Now the gap had opened again. Duarte was starting, creating goals in drills and receiving approval from the U17 staff while Rayan fought to keep possession. The old hierarchy had returned, and Duarte intended to make certain Rayan understood it.

Still, he watched the next repetition. Contempt did not mean carelessness. Rayan had already closed one gap far faster than anyone should have expected. Duarte would not give him the space to do it unnoticed again.

At the end of the session, Nuno Marques gathered the squad around the tactical board near the touchline to announce the initial line-up for the upcoming friendly against Académica.

"For tomorrow’s match, we start in our standard shape," Marques announced, marking the board. "Leandro Viana on the left, Gonçalo Matos through the centre and Duarte Faria on the right."

Duarte glanced towards Rayan as Marques finished writing the front line on the board.

"Looks more normal, doesn’t it?" he said quietly.

Rayan met his eyes. "What does?"

Duarte nodded towards the front three on the board. "Me starting. You watching. Feels normal again."

Before Rayan could respond, Duarte turned and walked towards the changing rooms.

Rayan kept his eyes on the board. Months earlier, a line like that would have stayed with him for the rest of the day, replaying until he either believed it or did something reckless to disprove it. Now the words still landed, but they did not change the lineup. Duarte had earned the starting position through cleaner touches, stronger balance and greater consistency.

That did not make the insult true forever. It only made Duarte better today.

Across the group, Leandro Viana accepted the left-wing position without celebration. Bernardo waited for the remaining names with his arms folded, showing no irritation when his own place came from the bench. Nobody else treated the selection as a verdict on an entire career. Rayan forced himself to do the same. Tomorrow’s starting eleven established the current hierarchy, not the final one.

Marques continued through the substitutes. Rayan and Bernardo Rocha were both included among the attacking options available from the bench.

Before dismissing the team, Ricardo Bastos handed out the opponent analysis sheets for Académica. Rayan took his sheet and scanned down to the defensive notes, stopping at their right-back, Tiago Amado. The report described Tiago as a patient, intelligent defender who rarely dived into tackles or fell for initial feints, preferring to read passing combinations and delay wide attackers.

As the squad headed towards the changing rooms, a familiar smoked-black panel resolved before Rayan’s eyes:

[Body Feint: Novice — 93%.]

[First-Touch Escape: Novice — 30%.]

Rayan dismissed the panel and looked back down at Tiago Amado’s name on the sheet. The friendly was an opportunity, but only if the coaches gave him minutes.