MidReal Story

The Footballer's Dilemma

Berta

Scenario:Carlos egy középiskolai football csapatban játszik Európában. Minden vágya, hogy felnőtt válogatott játékos legyen. De addig még sokat kell fejlődnie és tanulnia. A focin kívül a tanulás is fontos. Azonkívül minden mérkőzés sorsdöntö is egyben. Össze kell egyeztetnie a tanulást, a sportot, és a szerelmet.

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Carlos egy középiskolai football csapatban játszik Európában. Minden vágya, hogy felnőtt válogatott játékos legyen. De addig még sokat kell fejlődnie és tanulnia. A focin kívül a tanulás is fontos. Azonkívül minden mérkőzés sorsdöntö is egyben. Össze kell egyeztetnie a tanulást, a sportot, és a szerelmet.

Carlos Martinez

determined, and passionate. Carlos dreams of playing for the national team and faces challenges balancing school and sports. He struggles with his grades, particularly in math, but his coach helps him improve. His relationship with his girlfriend, Sophia, is supportive but complicated by her desire for him to focus on education over sports.

Coach Thompson

wise, and supportive. Coach Thompson pushes Carlos to excel both on the field and in academics. He recognizes Carlos's potential and offers guidance beyond football skills by helping him improve his math grades. His tough yet nurturing approach motivates Carlos to strive for excellence in both sports and education.

Sophia Rodriguez

intelligent, and pragmatic. Sophia supports Carlos's football ambitions but encourages him to prioritize education for a secure future. She often helps Carlos with his studies and provides emotional support during stressful times. Despite her concerns about Carlos's focus on sports over academics, she remains committed to their relationship.

I can still remember the day I made the decision to move to Europe.

I had always dreamed of becoming a professional footballer, and I knew that this was my chance.

I was in high school, playing on the school team, when I was recruited by a coach from a nearby academy.

He saw something in me that no one else had.

He saw the potential for greatness.

Since then, I have been working tirelessly to hone my skills.

I practice every day, perfecting my technique and building up my endurance.

I push myself to my limits and beyond, always striving for more.

My hard work and determination have paid off.

I am now considered one of the top players in my division, and I have been recruited by several top colleges.

But I am not satisfied with this.

I do not want to stop here.

My ultimate goal is to play for the national team, and I will stop at nothing to achieve this dream.

I am willing to do whatever it takes, to put in the extra effort and make the sacrifices necessary to reach the top.

I am confident that with my talent, dedication, and perseverance, I can make my dream a reality.

I am Carlos Martinez, and I will not rest until I have achieved my goal of becoming a professional footballer.

When I am not on the field or in the weight room, you can find me in class at my high school.

Math class ended, and I checked my phone for any messages.

I saw a text from Coach Thompson about an optional evening training session.

I had planned to study with Sophia after school, but I knew that this was more important.

Sophia looked disappointed when I told her that I couldn't make it, but she understood.

I packed my cleats in my backpack and headed out of the school building.

The academy's practice field was a short walk from the school, and I jogged across the empty parking lot.

The autumn air was cool against my skin, and the sun was low in the sky.

The field was deserted except for a few other players who had also decided to come to the training session.

Coach Thompson was already there, warming up with some stretching exercises.

He nodded at me as I approached.

"Good to see you, Carlos. Let's get started."

We began with some passing drills, kicking the ball back and forth across the field.

The rhythmic thud of the ball against my boots echoed through the quiet stadium.

Then Coach Thompson pulled me aside to work on a new technique for controlling long passes.

He demonstrated how to use different parts of my foot to control the ball's trajectory, and then it was my turn to try. My muscles burned as I repeated the motion again and again, but I didn't stop until I got it right.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, I knew I was one step closer to my dream.

The stadium lights flickered on, casting a harsh glare over the empty field.

The shadows of the players stretched out across the grass, like dark mirror images.

I stood at midfield, my legs heavy with fatigue.

Coach Thompson stood at the far end of the field, launching ball after ball in my direction.

I sprinted down the field, pivoting to catch each pass exactly as he had demonstrated.

When I mistimed a jump and the ball sailed over my head, Coach Thompson called out specific adjustments to my technique.

I wiped the sweat from my eyes and nodded, resetting my position for the next pass.

The ball arced through the darkening sky, and this time I cushioned it perfectly with my chest.

"Nice work, Carlos," Coach Thompson said, jogging over with a rare smile.

"Thanks, Coach," I replied, trying to catch my breath.

"You know," he continued, lowering his voice, "there's a scout from the national team coming to watch you next week."

My heart leaped in my chest, but I kept my cool.

"Really?"

I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Coach Thompson nodded.

"They're interested in seeing what you can do. I think you have a good shot at getting picked up."

I grinned, feeling a surge of excitement and pride.

"Thanks for letting me know, Coach. I won't let you down."

Coach Thompson clapped me on the back and headed off the field, leaving me to walk back alone.

My legs trembled with exhaustion, but I felt invincible as I walked off the field.

I pulled out my phone to text Sophia the amazing news, and that's when I saw three missed calls from her.

Sophia was the first person I wanted to share the news with.

But then I remembered that we were supposed to have a study session today and I had bailed on her at the last minute.

I hesitated, wondering if she would still want to talk to me.

I took a deep breath and dialed her number. "Hey," Sophia's voice was cold when she answered.

"Hey," I replied, trying to sound casual despite my racing heart.

"How was your day?"

She sighed.

"It was fine. How about yours? You didn't show up for our study session. What happened?"

I knew she was still mad at me, so I decided to just be honest.

"Coach called an optional practice session this evening. It was either that or meet up with you."

"I get it," she said softly.

"I know how important football is to you."

We both fell silent for a moment, listening to the distant hum of traffic in the background.

Then Sophia spoke up again.

"So what's all this about? You wouldn't have called me just to apologize."

I laughed nervously.

"No... actually... there's a scout from the national team coming next week."

"That's great!" she said, sounding genuinely happy for me now.

"But you need to pass math tomorrow if you want to keep playing on the team. Don't forget about your test tomorrow!"

I groaned inwardly as Sophia reminded me about tomorrow's math test.

I had completely forgotten about it in all my excitement over the scout coming to watch me play. "Thanks for reminding me," I muttered, slumping against a nearby wall as the adrenaline from practice began to wear off.

The cool night air seemed to seep into my bones now, and I shivered slightly under my sweat-dampened jersey.

"Don't worry, Carlos," Sophia said reassuringly.

"You've got this; just focus on what you know."

I nodded, feeling a renewed sense of determination.

I dragged my tired legs up the stairs to my room, dropping my muddy cleats by the front door.

The math textbook sat accusingly on my desk where I had left it this morning.

I ached all over from practice, but I knew I had to do this.

I collapsed onto my chair and flipped the book open to the chapter on quadratic equations.

The numbers blurred together at first, but then I remembered Sophia's patient explanations during our previous study sessions.

I worked through each problem one by one, double-checking my answers as I went.

When I got stuck on a tricky equation, I texted Sophia for help.

She replied almost immediately, "Try factoring it first. It might be easier that way."

I followed her advice and managed to solve the problem, feeling a wave of relief.

"Thanks, Sophia," I texted back. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

She sent a smiling emoji back.

"I'm always here for you. Keep going; you've got this!"

I went back to working through the practice problems, feeling more confident now.

As I flipped to the next page, a folded piece of paper slipped out from between the textbook's pages.

At first, I almost brushed it aside, thinking it was just a scrap of trash.

But then I noticed that the edges were yellowed and slightly crumpled.

I carefully unfolded the paper and was surprised to see what appeared to be complex mathematical proofs scrawled across it.

The equations looked like they belonged in an advanced university course, not a high school textbook.

And yet... something about them seemed familiar.

It took me a moment to realize that the handwriting was the same precise, angular script Coach Thompson used when he drew up our plays on his whiteboard markers. The top of the page had a university letterhead printed on it, along with a date twenty years ago and "Thompson, A." followed by "Mathematical Excellence Award."

I stared at the paper, trying to process what I was seeing.

"Coach Thompson?" I muttered to myself, dialing his number without thinking.

He picked up after a few rings, sounding surprised. "Carlos, what's up? Everything okay?"

I stared at the yellowed paper in my hand, holding the phone to my ear with the other.

"I'm fine, Coach. I just... I found something in my math textbook."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line.

I could hear Coach Thompson clearing his throat before he spoke.

"Where did you find that?"

His voice sounded tight and strained.

I hesitated for a moment before answering.

"It was folded up inside my textbook. It looks like some kind of advanced math proofs."

I pointed to the top of the page, even though Coach Thompson couldn't see it.

"The handwriting looks like yours, and there's a university letterhead from twenty years ago."

The silence stretched out uncomfortably long again.

Finally, Coach Thompson sighed deeply over the phone.

"Meet me early tomorrow before practice. There's something I need to show you."

I hung up, staring at the paper, knowing tomorrow would change everything.

I arrived at school an hour before morning practice to meet Coach Thompson.

When I got to his office, he was already there, sitting behind his desk in a pair of sweatpants and a faded university T-shirt.

His desk was covered in piles of old game footage and play diagrams.

I also noticed that he had put up a bunch of new photos on his wall: photos of himself as a young man with a university football team, and even one where he was posing with a university math team.

The awards on his shelves seemed more impressive than ever, especially considering the math award I had found in my textbook.

Coach Thompson looked up from behind his desk and nodded curtly at me.

"Good morning."

He sounded tired.

"Morning, Coach."

I walked over to him, holding out the math award paper in my hand.

"Coach, I know this belongs to you. But what is it? Why did you put it in my textbook?"

He took the paper from me, and for a moment I thought I saw his hands tremble slightly.

He looked down at the award and then back at me before reaching into one of the drawers of his desk.

He pulled out an old photo in a cheap frame.

It was of him in a suit standing next to a group of other guys in suits.

They all had "Mathlete" buttons pinned to their jackets. "That's me," he said quietly, pointing to the man standing on the right side of the photo, "in my first year at university. We were competing in a regional math competition."

I looked at him blankly for a moment.

"Math competition?"

"Yes," Coach said quietly, "I used to compete in math competitions when I was in school. It was one of my favorite things about university life. I was studying to become a professor of mathematics. I always wanted to be able to share my passion for numbers with students like you."

I stared at him incredulously.

I had known that Coach Thompson loved math and used it as part of our football practice, but I had never imagined he used to be an actual professor.

What else didn't I know about this man?

"Then... what happened? Why aren't you a professor anymore?"

Coach sighed deeply, putting the photo back on his desk.

"My grandmother fell ill, so I moved back here to take care of her. There wasn't time for me to continue with my studies or pursue an academic career anymore."

I stared at him quietly for a moment before speaking again.

"Thank you for sharing this with me, Coach; it means a lot."

He nodded at me, then stood up and walked over to the whiteboard in the corner of his office.

He picked up a marker and began to draw a series of geometric diagrams on the board.

"I've been thinking about how we can improve our passing accuracy. I think I've found a way to do it using some basic mathematical concepts."

I sat down at my desk, watching as Coach Thompson drew precise angles and vectors on the board.

He explained how he could use triangulation principles to calculate the optimal position for receiving crosses.

At first, I was skeptical, but as he showed me how to track the movements of players and create predictable patterns, it began to make sense.

It was like plotting points on a coordinate plane.

Coach Thompson handed me the marker and asked me to solve a positioning scenario for him.

I stared at the board for a moment before beginning to draw.

"Coach, this is incredible," I said, tracing the lines with the marker.

He nodded, a faint smile on his lips. "Math has always been my secret weapon, Carlos."

I paused, looking at him with newfound respect. "So, all those plays... they were more than just instinct?"

He smiled, his eyes lighting up.

"Of course not. I've been studying the movements of players, the angles of passes... it's all about creating a system."

I shook my head in disbelief, feeling like I had just discovered a hidden world behind the game.

Coach Thompson handed me a practice schedule he had printed out, divided into numbered quadrants.

He had plotted trajectories for passes and created precise angles for each player.

Next to each drill, he had written mathematical formulas for calculating optimal ball speed and player positioning.

I looked at him, amazed.

"This is incredible," I said, shaking my head.

"How did you come up with this?"

He chuckled.

"It's not that hard. I just applied some basic math principles to the game. It's all about probability and angles."

I pointed to one of the equations on the board.

"But what does this mean?"

I asked, pointing to a complex formula that seemed to involve trigonometry and probability.

Coach Thompson walked over to the board and picked up a marker.

"Let me break it down for you."

He began to write step by step how he was using trigonometry to calculate where the ball would land during a corner kick.

It was strange, but as he explained it, it made sense.

The math was predicting patterns in the game that I had never noticed before. He handed me a notebook and asked me to copy down all of the formulas so I could study them on my own.

I sat down at my desk again, copying down each formula carefully.

As I worked, I couldn't help but feel grateful for this new way of training.

It was like discovering an entirely new language that unlocked hidden secrets in the game.

I knew it wouldn't be easy to master, but I was willing to put in the work if it meant becoming better on the field.

And who knows?

Maybe someday I'd even get a chance to use math like this in real life.

"Coach, do you think this could change how we play against Riverton next week?"

Coach Thompson nodded, his expression serious.

"If we can master these patterns, we'll have a significant edge over them."

I leaned forward, feeling a surge of excitement.

"Then let's do it. Let's surprise everyone."

I looked down at the practice schedule Coach Thompson had given me.

It was divided into quadrants, each with a specific drill and set of mathematical formulas to apply to it.

I could already see how each drill connected to the others in a larger pattern.

As I stood at my locker before practice, I quickly scanned through the playbook.

I opened my backpack and pulled out the notebook with the formulas Coach Thompson had explained to me.

I flipped through the pages, finding the ones that related to the drills we would be doing today.

Then I carefully transferred them to my playbook, writing each one out in blue ink.

Next to each formula, I drew small diagrams to help me remember how it worked.

I was still writing when my teammates started filing into the locker room, getting ready for practice.

I quickly closed the playbook and shoved it back into my backpack.

I remembered what Coach Thompson had said about keeping our mathematical edge private until we were sure it worked. Marco came over to stand next to me, looking curious.

"What are you working on?"

I shrugged casually.

"Just going over some plays."

He nodded and headed off to his locker, leaving me alone again with my thoughts.

A few minutes later, we were all gathered outside on the field, stretching before practice began.

As we lined up for our first drill, I clutched my playbook tightly in my hands.

The first drill was a simple passing exercise, with players lining up in a circle and passing the ball around.

As we worked through the drill, I noticed that Marco and Luis were struggling to get the ball to each other accurately.

I remembered what Coach Thompson had said about how math could improve our passing game.

I decided to see if I could apply the principles from his playbook to help them.

As we took a water break, I pulled Marco and Luis over behind the bleachers, out of earshot of the other players.

I opened my playbook and pointed to one of the formulas Coach Thompson had explained to me.

"This is the triangulation formula," I said, pointing to a diagram of two intersecting lines.

"It's used to calculate angles and distances."

Marco looked at me, confused.

"I don't understand."

I looked around for something to use as an example.

I spotted three water bottles on the ground and picked them up.

I arranged them in a triangle, with each bottle about three feet away from the others. "Okay," I said, pointing to the bottles.

"Imagine this is a passing scenario. We're trying to get the ball from player A to player C. The problem is that there's an opponent in the middle, blocking our path."

Marco nodded, his eyes lighting up with understanding.

"So we need to use this formula to find an angle that will allow us to pass around him."

I nodded.

"Exactly."

I began to write some numbers in my notebook, using the formula from Coach Thompson's playbook.

Marco leaned over my shoulder as I worked, watching intently.

After a minute, I looked up at him with a smile on my face.

"We did it," I said proudly.

"We found a way to pass around that defender."

Marco grinned back at me.

"That's awesome."

Just then, Luis walked over to join us.

"What are you guys talking about?"

He peered over my shoulder at my notebook.

"Math?" he asked incredulously. "It's Coach Thompson's new playbook," I explained quickly.

"It's all based on math. He uses formulas to calculate angles and distances for each drill."

Luis nodded slowly as he began to flip through my notebook.

"I see," he said quietly, studying the diagrams and equations intently.

As we stood there, more of our teammates wandered over to see what we were doing.

They all gathered around us in a circle as I began explaining more about how the formulas worked and how we could use them on the field.

"Okay, let's try it," Marco said finally.

We headed out to the field for afternoon practice.

I stood in the middle of the field, looking around at my teammates as they gathered around me.

I held up a ball and pointed to Coach Thompson's playbook.

"Today we're going to do some passing drills," I said, holding up a ball.

"But instead of just throwing it, we're going to use these formulas to make sure it gets there."

I pulled out a set of orange cones and began arranging them in a pattern on the field.

I had used a protractor from math class to measure the angles carefully.

As I worked, my teammates watched in confusion.

"What are you doing?"

Luis asked, looking at the cones.

I smiled proudly.

"This is a triangle," I said, pointing to the three cones.

"According to Coach Thompson's playbook, if we measure the angles correctly, we can pass the ball between any two points on the field."

Marco nodded thoughtfully as he studied my diagram.

"That makes sense," he said slowly.

"Okay, let's try it."

I stood behind one of the cones and looked at Marco, who was standing behind another. Luis stood in the middle, marking where the defender would be. I threw the ball with all my strength, using the formula from Coach Thompson's playbook to calculate where it would land.

At first, it sailed over Luis's head and landed with a thud on the grass.

But then something strange happened.

The next time I threw it, it curved perfectly around Luis and landed right in Marco's hands.

We all stared at each other in amazement as we realized what had just happened.

It was like magic - but it was really just math. We spent the rest of practice working on different passing drills, using Coach Thompson's formulas to calculate our angles and distances.

It was incredible how well they worked - every time we got it right, the ball flew straight into our teammate's hands like clockwork.

As we practiced, more and more players started coming over to watch us, curious about what we were doing.

By the end of practice, we were all gathered around me as I explained how each formula worked and how we could apply them to different situations on the field.

Coach Thompson walked over to join us, watching quietly from the sidelines as we practiced our passes with precision and accuracy.

He nodded his head in approval as he watched us work through each drill with ease.

Finally, practice was over.

I gathered my teammates around me in a circle on the field.

"Let's go over what we did today," I said, pulling out Coach Thompson's playbook.

I flipped through the pages, pointing to each formula and explaining how we had used it to pass the ball.

Marco stood up and demonstrated one of the passes we had done, throwing the ball in a perfect arc over Luis's head and into the waiting hands of another player.

I pointed to the formula on the page and showed how it matched exactly with where Marco had thrown the ball.

The other players all leaned in, studying the formula intently as they tried to understand how it worked.

Even our defenders were interested now, asking questions about angles and trajectories.

As we sat there on the field, Coach Thompson walked over to join us.

He nodded his head in approval as he watched us diagram plays in the grass with chalk. "You guys are doing great," he said proudly.

"Keep working on those formulas. We're going to use them a lot this season."

We all nodded eagerly as he walked off to his office.

Then we got up and started practicing again, using our new formulas to try more complicated passing drills.

As we practiced, I could feel myself getting more confident.

I knew that with these formulas, we could do anything on the field.

After a few minutes of practice, I called my teammates over again.

"Okay, let's try something harder," I said, flipping through Coach Thompson's playbook until I found a three-player passing sequence.

"This one is going to be tricky," I warned them as I explained how it worked.

"But if we get it right, it will be unstoppable."

My teammates all nodded as they studied the diagram. Then we headed out onto the field for our first attempt.

Luis stood at one end of the sequence, while Marco stood at the other.

I stood in between them, ready to throw the ball.

I took a deep breath and threw the ball with all my strength, using every ounce of math I knew to guide it through the air.

It soared over Luis's head and landed perfectly in Marco's hands on the other side of him.

We all stared at each other in amazement as we realized what we had just done.

It was like a miracle - but it was really just math.

The rest of practice was a blur as we continued to work on our passing sequences.

We tried more and more complicated plays, using Coach Thompson's formulas to guide us every step of the way.

By the end of practice, I was exhausted but exhilarated.

I knew that with these formulas, we were going to be unstoppable on the field.

As I walked off the field, I could feel my confidence growing.

I knew that with these formulas, I could do anything on the field.

And I knew that my teammates felt the same way.

We all gathered in the locker room after practice, still buzzing with excitement about what we had just done.

Luis and Marco sat down next to me, studying Coach Thompson's playbook as they tried to understand every detail of how the formulas worked.

I flipped through the pages with them, pointing out different equations and explaining how they applied to our passing drills. After a few minutes of review, Marco pointed to a particularly complex sequence of passes in the playbook.

"Hey, look at this one," he said excitedly.

"It's called the 'Pythagorean Play.'"

Luis leaned over to study the diagram intently.

"I don't get it," he said finally.

"What makes it work?"

I smiled proudly as I flipped through my notebook until I found the formula we had used for that play.

"It's all about angles," I explained slowly, pointing to each line segment in the diagram.

"When you calculate them correctly, it creates a perfect passing lane."

Luis nodded thoughtfully as he studied my notes.

"That makes sense," he said finally.

"I think we should name all our plays after math terms," Luis said suddenly, looking up at me and Marco with a grin on his face. "That's not a bad idea," Marco said thoughtfully.

"Then we can use codes to call them on the field."

I nodded eagerly as I started thinking about what other math terms we could use for our plays.

"Okay, let's do it," Luis said finally, standing up from his chair and heading over to a whiteboard in the corner of the locker room.

He started writing out different math terms and matching them with our passing sequences from Coach Thompson's playbook.

As we watched Luis write, I realized we weren't just learning plays; we were creating a new language for the game.

After a few minutes, Marco and I headed back out to the field for more practice.

We spent the rest of the afternoon working on different passing drills, using our new math terms to call out our plays.

As we practiced, I could feel myself getting more confident with every throw.

I knew that with these formulas and our new language, we were going to be unstoppable on the field.

After practice, Marco and I stayed behind in the locker room to review our math plays.

We sat at a table in the corner of the room, looking over Coach Thompson's playbook and my notes from practice.

Marco pointed to one of the diagrams in the playbook, tracing his finger along the passing routes as he studied them intently.

"This is a pretty complicated formula," he said finally, looking up at me with a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Where did you come up with it?"

I shrugged as I flipped through my notebook until I found my original calculations for that play. "It's based on Coach Thompson's formulas," I explained slowly.

"But I had to modify them a bit to fit our team's style."

Marco nodded thoughtfully as he studied my notes.

"How did you do that?"

I flipped through my notebook until I found a page filled with different equations and diagrams.

"I started by looking at Coach Thompson's original formulas," I explained slowly.

"Then I used my own math knowledge to adjust them to fit our team's style."

Marco looked over at me intently as he studied my notes.

"Wow, this is pretty advanced stuff," he said finally, shaking his head in amazement.

"How did you come up with all this?"

I shrugged again as I looked back down at my notes.

"It just made sense to me," I said finally.

"I've always loved math, so when Coach Thompson introduced these formulas, it was like second nature for me."

Marco nodded thoughtfully as he continued studying my notes. "You know, this is really impressive," he said finally, looking up at me with a smile on his face.

"You're a genius."

I smiled back at him proudly.

"Thanks," I said finally.

"I just love math. And when Coach Thompson introduced these formulas, it was like a dream come true."

Marco nodded again as he looked back down at my notes.

"Well, whatever you did worked," he said finally.

"We're going to be unstoppable on the field now."

I grinned back at him proudly as we continued studying our math plays together in the locker room.

Luis leaned in, his eyes wide with curiosity.

"Do you think we could teach the whole team to understand this?" he asked, glancing between us.

Marco nodded, a determined look on his face.

"If we can get everyone on board, we'll have a secret weapon no one else has," he said confidently.

I nodded in agreement, flipping through my notes as I started thinking about how we could teach the rest of the team.

We spent the rest of practice working on our math plays, using Coach Thompson's formulas to guide us every step of the way.

As we practiced, I could feel myself getting more confident with every throw.

And I knew that with these formulas and our new language, we were going to be unstoppable on the field.

The day of our biggest match arrived.

We all stood in the locker room, looking over Coach Thompson's playbook one final time before we took the field.

The whiteboard in front of us was covered in formulas and diagrams, each one representing a different play we had calculated.

Coach Thompson walked into the locker room, his eyes scanning over us as he gave us a final pep talk.

"Today is it," he said finally, his voice filled with determination.

"We've worked hard for this moment. Let's go out there and show them what we're made of."

We all nodded confidently as we headed out onto the field.

I glanced up at the stands as we took our positions, spotting the national team scout sitting in the front row.

My hands trembled slightly as I realized this was it - our chance to prove ourselves on the biggest stage. But then I looked down at my playbook and focused on the math formulas in front of me.

I knew that with these formulas, we could do anything on the field.

I took a deep breath and started drawing out our first play on the board, using Coach Thompson's formulas to guide me every step of the way.

As I finished drawing, Marco squeezed my shoulder reassuringly.

"This is going to work," he said confidently.

Luis stood up next to me, pointing to one of the angles on the board.

"This is where you need to throw it," he said, nodding his head confidently.

The other players all nodded in agreement as they studied the diagram intently.

When Coach Thompson walked into the locker room a few minutes later, he examined our diagrams carefully before giving us an approving smile.

"Let's do this," he said, clapping his hands together as he headed out onto the field.

I gripped the ball tightly in my hands as I looked out at the field.

My teammates were all getting into position, each one standing in exactly the right spot to create the passing lanes we had calculated.

The stadium lights overhead cast a precise shadow on the field, illuminating our mathematical formation perfectly.

Marco stood fifteen yards ahead of me, his body angled at exactly forty-five degrees to create an open passing lane.

Luis cut across the field at calculated intervals, creating another open lane for me to throw.

The national team scout leaned forward in his seat, pen poised over his notepad as he watched us intently.

I took a deep breath and mentally reviewed Coach Thompson's formula for this specific play.

My fingers traced the ball's stitching carefully, finding the exact release point we had practiced. The defense shifted slightly as they tried to anticipate where I would throw the ball.

But I knew that our calculations were perfect - and that if I threw it exactly where we had calculated, there would be an open passing lane waiting for me.