26. Soli 3458
Mi'ato, Kinitaria
Twenty-one days - three and a half weeks, because the Kinitar calendar has six-day weeks - had passed since young Lupan Mihalcič had been given a shocking introduction to life at Mi'ato City, thanks to a poisonous atmosphere in the cup quarter-final defeat to Litora United. He hadn't actually played in that particular game, having been an unused substitute, but he'd certainly got a taste of how quick a crowd could turn. Since then, life was looking slightly better in the red-and-white half of the capital. This was back in the days before there was an officially sanctioned national league, which is actually a fairly recent innovation in Kinitaria. Regional leagues and competitions were the norm, with the Kinitar Cup being seen as the only necessary nationwide tournament. City had been unceremoniously dumped out of that at the start of the month, though.
After the cup debacle, fortunes improved somewhat. A 2-0 win away to Avnani Athetic was next on the agenda, with Lupan again being an unused sub, followed by a midweek clash with Atletika Vanuku which ended goalless. A routine win in Kasmenai, which the young forward didn't make the squad for, was then followed by a blank weekend while the semi-finals of the Cup went on. But minds in the capital were turned only to one thing - the derby. The derby, the biggest game in Kinitar football (depending on who you asked), the cross-capital derby between Mi'ato City and their bitter rivals, Mi'ato. It was due to take place in midweek, the authorities obviously not having any concerns with six thousand fiercely passionate away supporters having time to get vast quantities of cheap alcohol down their necks before making the trip across the city. It's not as though they didn't have fair warning - this was a fixture which often brought out the worst of both club's support. The Kinitar Football Federation always seemed strangely reluctant to act, dismissing concerns as "scaremongering" and claiming that it was "all part of the game".
Just as Lupan thought he was getting used to the physically demanding training sessions the City staff put their players through, things suddenly got a lot more intense. This was the big one, and the fans demanded victory. Anything short of that was to be considered a failure, and everyone connected with the club knew it. One benefit of all the extra training - especially compared to that given at youth team level - was that the young striker was noticing marked improvements in his play even after just a few weeks. He wasn't about to become a world-beater in under a month, of course, but he was making the small, important steps. That said, he wasn't particularly expecting the demands of this particular training session, the last before the clash with their neighbours. Manager Konstantin Latifi, normally a jovial and mild-mannered sort, was spending most of it yelling at his team to do much better.
"Come on, Mihalcič, you'll be murdered in the league if you can't handle this!" was one shout directed at Lupan. "Get some blood on your boots, Elišev, that's what they'll be expecting of you!" was one directed at another player - midfield hard-man Kuzman Elišev - which made Lupan instantly wary of his team-mate, even if it was just a practice match.
Although he could feel his energy reserves draining, Lupan managed to push himself all the way and made it to the end of the brutally punishing training session exhausted but almost completely intact - another benefit of the demanding training regime of a professional football club being vastly increased fitness levels.
"Not bad," their manager reported back, still a long way from his usually cheerful persona, "but we'll have to play out of our skins if we're going to beat those bastards. And you're going to make sure we do beat them. Go get changed, and I'll have the team when you come back."
The reading of the team was something of a ritual at City, to be done after the training session, the day before the game. Sure enough, Latifi had the eighteen names written down on a sheet of paper waiting for the players to return. As usual, he read out the chosen eleven, and as was becoming usual, Lupan's name wasn't among them. He had made the subs' bench, though. Was it too much to hope that he'd get to be part of the action this time?
The day of the match dawned, and as afternoon turned to evening and the temperature began to drop over the Kinitar capital, the Stadion Orašii slowly filled up and the fans prepared to create a fiery display in the evening chill. Down below the Main Stand, two managers were fiercely impressing upon their players the importance of smashing their rivals into the ground. Just in case, you know, they weren't aware of that already.
"Win this and you'll be heroes. Win it well and you'll become immortal. Lose it, and for the next few months, your lives won't be worth living." These were Konstantin Latifi's parting words to his City stars before they headed into the tunnel and out into the cauldron. The first thing that hit them was the sheer wall of noise created by over sixty thousand fanatic, screaming supporters. This was on a whole different level to any other game, and there wasn't a single person in the capital who didn't know it.
The first half was frenzied, fierce and fraught with hot tempers. Even taking into account the highly physical and confrontational nature of the Kinitar game, four yellow cards had to be issued in the opening fifteen minutes, and things looked a long way from calming down. Kuzman Elišev had set the tone after just two minutes with a scything challenge that sent the visiting right winger into the advertising hoardings, and Mi'ato looked keen to reciprocate. There was also a football match going on somewhere amongst this chaos, and it even produced a couple of decent chances, with Mezak, the visiting goalkeeper, having to be on top form to preserve the deadlock. The away side managed to work some openings of their own, despite facing a torrent of jeers and abuse whenever they got hold of the ball, and City's number one Lipa Alpič was called into action several times, including one or two great reflex saves, but for the most part, the two sides were more interested in kicking each other than the ball, and it was no surprise when the opening period ended goalless.
"You're letting them into the game!" was their manager's reaction during the interval. "We need to be more physical out there, we need to show them we won't back down! We've had the best chances. Kuzman, Elif, it's your job to keep their strikers quiet. So why are they still getting a look in? They're not going to score if they're limping around the pitch. Get the ball up the field and the chances will come. They'll come for us if you keep control and make sure you win the battles. Go prove yourself to those fans!"
With these words still ringing in their ears, the second half began in much the same manner as the first. The challenges were possibly worse than they were in the first half, but the match official seemed less inclined to issue cards. The play, however, was going nowhere. With the ball stuck in midfield, Latifi turned to his bench for inspiration.
"Lupan, go warm up down the touchline and get stripped. You're going on."
The young striker could barely believe what he was hearing. He was to enter the war zone. He didn't like to think about the reception had he been on the touchline at the Lumar Beqiri, Mi'ato's ground - especially since visiting subs had already had all manner of objects and abuse hurled at them from the stand. And then, the fourth official was holding up his board, and it was his time.
"Substitution for City! Coming off is number fourteen, Marko Gačen! Coming on, please welcome to the Orašii, number twenty-seven, Lupan Mihalcič!"
And then, he was on the pitch in the biggest game in Kinitaria. Ten seconds later, the ball was at his feet. Another two seconds later, he was sent clattering to the ground by a man mountain in blue and white. In the time it took him to force himself to his feet, play was fifty yards away. No foul, of course, not for something so trivial. The same thing happened the next time he got the ball, and the next. Of course, Mi'ato were trying to scare the young lad out of the game. To be fair, he did then resolve that when he got the ball, he'd get rid of it as soon as possible - although that didn't necessarily stop some of the more cynical challenges, and he even gained a free-kick, as well as a pair of bruised legs. This is what he'd been put through in training, though, to condition him to the top levels - and although this really was a different level, and he was being outclassed most of the time, he could still cope with the challenges and get up and keep moving.
With time rapidly fading away and the scoresheet still blank, the game was still up for grabs. Clear-cut chances were few and far between thanks to both teams' bruising tactics, and it looked like a goal was out of the question, until Elišev lifted a perfect ball over the Mi'ato defence, Lupan ran onto it, the huge defender was closing from behind but he wasn't going to make it, shot, goal! The Orašii shook with noise! On his debut, he'd won the derby for City! Oh, hold on - it won't count. Offside. The linesman's flag was up, a sight which felt like a punch in the gut to the striker. With a bout of creative cursing, he jogged back to his position. Luckily, none of the match officials heard.
There would be no more chances. Full time arrived soon after, and the blood and thunder of a national derby ended in a scoreless draw, although it was an entertaining 0-0, as they go, and the debutant had held his own inside the lion's den. He'd even - almost - had his moment of glory. But surely the chances would come. They hadn't won, but that night, the future looked bright for Mihalcič and City.
