It had been a night of celebration at Radnika with both Mojmir Anac and Tahir Fejzuli celebrating their 100th appearance for the Hoops, an incredible feat at international level. A raucous Escan crowd had greeted the teams as they strode out onto the turf and both players were presented with commemorative plaques by dignitaries from the FSM and the Mytanar Premier, Ana Mecava-Catic. The Hebitaka players looked slightly bemused and they perhaps could have been forgiven for thinking the Mytanar team were getting a little ahead of themselves, there was still a game to be played and won out on the pitch. The celebratory atmosphere may have seemed a little premature to say the least.
It was different on the substitutes bench, where Omer Kuhar-Arh sat next to Ermin Urankar grimly, his mind clearly elsewhere. Lev Repin had spent his entire career with Ararat Severyan and knew the city well, had he known the worry plaguing the youngster’s mind he may not have selected him at all, but Omer did a good job of hiding it and here he was sat on the bench anyway. He constantly tried to remind himself that nothing had even gone wrong yet, that his father and three brothers had been out to sea hundreds of times before and they had come back safely each and every time. It didn’t help much though, not with the potential of his first ever international cap occurring at the same time. He couldn’t imagine much worse than such a momentous occasion being forever marred by a similarly momentous catastrophe.
Ermin Urankar did his best to take Omer’s mind off it, talking at length about some of the stories he had from playing at Radnika when Omer was still playing at Akademija. Pedja Kasun had had a word before the game too, but he was out on the pitch now, screaming instructions to his defenders from his penalty area. He couldn’t really help much from there.
“The 1923 Esca supporters are crazy too, that Odeljak 1-11 group seem to hate absolutely
everyone. They don’t really like us Rauchiks, anyway, we always get a pretty hostile reception here…” Ermin rambled on. It was as if he didn’t want a silence to fall, lest Omer’s mind be able to wander out to sea and thoughts of his dad and brothers. It didn’t really help.
The pair were sat among the substitutes, with Dejan Zgela sat on one side and Bigger Mbala-Ekakia on the other. If this game were being played in the depths of winter they would all be wrapped up in the enormous padded coats which were ubiquitous with football matches played inland in winter in Mytanija. This was summer though and they all sat in their training shorts and a light jersey as the evening sun still kept the stadium warm. The summer storm which had been forecast for the northern regions of the country was nowhere to be seen in the capital, that difference didn’t do much to put Omer’s mind at ease, however.
During the first-half the usual suspects put on a real show, Jezdimir Ocokoljic scoring the opener with a drilled effort from just inside the eighteen yard box. It came from a nice piece of play down the right flank, Tahir Fejzuli releasing Jasno Odonelec who cut the ball back to his cousin Patrik. He drove towards the by-line and then lashed a ferocious cross across the box, Ganesh Tinnu could only parry it out into the danger area and as it rolled to Ocokoljic the whole stadium drew its collective breath, the air pregnant with expectation. The goal was a mere formality.
Ocokoljic’s movement was mesmerising and even with his mind elsewhere Omer could find genuine appreciation in tracking him around the pitch. Jasno Odonelec and Damien Gannot were in the same category, the trio all playing off one another expertly, seemingly in perfect sync. The fact they had played for the same club side in the recent past wasn’t lost on anybody. What a team Atletik Thessia could have had if they had been able to hold onto all the players they had sold in the past few years. Omer hoped he could get there one day. Ararat Severyan was his club, the one he supported, but Atletik had an intangible lure for many Mytanars. Especially those from Rauchnya like Omer, the Rauchiks and the Thessians had a long-standing affinity with one another.
Jasno Odonelec was heavily involved in Mytanija’s second, driving from midfield before picking out Damir Milcic’s run down the left. The Anomalies’ full-back took the ball past Farid Farhan like he wasn’t there, drawing an appreciative ‘
ooh’ from the crowd, Milcic wasn’t particularly noted for his dribbling ability. Ocokoljic took both central defenders away with a darting run to the near post, excellent movement once again, leaving Damien Gannot in acres of space on the penalty spot. Milcic played the ball back to him and the Sabrefell Athletic striker had the simple task of rolling the ball past Tinnu for Mytanija’s second.
Lev Repin was in constant communication with his coaching staff and the substitutes and after the second he made a beeline for Omer, fixing his gaze on his and raising his eyebrows.
“That sort of drive from deeper positions that Jasno’s just done is something to learn from, son.” Repin said. Omer listened. He’d be a fool not to listen when it was Lev Repin talking, particularly using Jasno Odonelec as the reference point. He listened, but he didn’t feel as if he was fully taking anything in, it was almost an out of body experience.
Mytanija made it three before half-time, with Jasno Odonelec getting the goal his performance deserved. Alen Hrdaljko’s combative play won the ball high up the pitch and Odonelec ran beyond the Hebitaka back four just as Damien Gannot was drawing them up the field by dropping deep. Hrdaljko hit a pass which seemed like it might just come a second too late, everybody seemed to expect the flag to go up for offside, but Jasno Odonelec played on and the flag never came. He powered the ball into the bottom corner before running away in celebration, a brief look towards the linesman confirming that the goal would stand. The flag wasn’t going to rescue the Hebitaka defenders.
Half-time came and went, Omer went out onto the pitch for the half-time kick-around and he didn’t even realise what it meant when one of the coaches told him to stay out longer than the rest with Dejan Zgela and Slobodan Vujovic. Ermin Urankar raised his thumbs at him, grinning.
“Good luck!” He shouted as he headed off down the tunnel. Omer would be getting on the pitch in the second-half. The players the manager wanted to substitute on always trained a little longer at half-time, a slightly more intense warm-up so that they could be ready to enter the action. Zgela and Vujovic were straight into the high-intensity sprint exercises and as Omer started sluggishly the slightly older Zgela glowered at him.
“Come on Omer, we want to get on and score a few more here, put some fucking effort in.” He muttered in Omer’s ear. Omer raised the pace a little, although it still felt as if his mind was a long way away, he couldn’t fully comprehend what was unfolding. In normal circumstances he would be fully of nervous excitement, with butterflies in his stomach, but there was none of that. Just a dull ache of worry in the pit of his stomach. It was a bit different.
The trio finished and went down the tunnel to the changing rooms so that they could change out of their training gear and into their match kit. Energy drinks were hastily glugged down and the next twenty minutes or so were a blur. The rest of the team click-clacked out, their studs sounding off the floor as they went off to restart the game. Lev Repin briefly had a word with each of them, Dejan would be heading on first for Ocokoljic; Vujovic second for Patrik Odonelec; and Omer would head on last to take the place of Jasno Odonelec. Repin wanted a good performance out of each of them, ‘make me have a real problem for the next qualifiers’ he said. He also took Omer aside and told him to play without pressure, he hadn’t done this before after all, but the team were 3-0 up so he could relax and just play his normal game.
Omer struggled to take it on board, heading out with the others and a couple of coaches to take their places on the bench. Mytanija seemed to be in full control, the players stroked the ball around midfield and seemed to be slowly suffocating the Hebitaka team. Repin called for Zgela and then for Vujovic a few minutes later. Omer half-thought the butterflies would arrive then, but they didn’t. An image of a boat rocking across stormy seas just kept flashing through his mind and he actually felt a little sick. He wasn’t sure how long had passed in the second-half, so he looked up to the clock.
65:07Just over twenty minutes. It ticked on.
“Omer!” Repin shouted. Omer took a second to realise what he wanted. “Omer! Come on!” Repin didn’t like waiting and Omer was up on his feet in a flash, his body instinctively doing what was needed whilst his mind took a moment to focus.
“Yes boss?” Omer asked as he stepped up towards the edge of Repin’s technical area, near the halfway line.
“You’ve plenty of time here to show me something, son.” The manager started. “But don’t try to overplay it or force it. Simple stuff, take the ball and move it on. They’re already tired, they won’t want a young lad like you coming on and keeping the ball away from them. Understood?”
“Yes boss.”
“Alright, let’s get you on.” Repin said, turning towards the fourth official. “Substitute please!”
Suddenly the fourth official’s board was going up, the number 38 in neon green replacing the outgoing number ten in red. Jasno Odonelec handed the captain’s armband over to Alen Hrdaljko who jogged over to Mojmir Anac and wrapped it around his arm. Odonelec shook hands with the referee before clapping the supporters who were busy giving him a standing ovation. He stepped towards Omer and gave him a brief hug.
“Good luck kid.” Odonelec whispered before heading over to embrace Repin and shake hands with the rest of the substitutes. Omer bent down to brush the grass with his hand, before breaking into a jog and making a sign of the cross and pointing upwards to the sky. He wasn’t sure if he was praying for a good performance or for God to bring his dad and brothers back safely. The game passed him by for a few minutes, his first touch a miscontrolled pass which drew a bark of disappointment from Alen Hrdaljko.
“Omer! Fucking concentrate!” The midfield pitbull rasped.
He got better though, playing a nice through ball for Dejan Zgela which required a fantastic save from Ganesh Tinnu in order to keep it out. There was also an audacious lobbed pass out towards the right for Slobodan Vujovic to run onto. The Royal Rumiatzi full-back couldn’t quite keep it in as it rolled out for a corner, but he stuck his thumb up appreciatively and the Radnika crowd sounded its approval for the confident attempt and the potential of the link-up between the two youngsters. Omer was doing okay and before he knew it fifteen minutes had passed, he caught a look at the clock in a break in the play and was slightly surprised by how quickly it had gone.
A minute or two later Slobodan Vujovic was busily bringing the ball up the right. Omer tried to occupy one of the Hebitaka central defenders, Talukdar, to give Damien Gannot space. It worked, with Gannot dropping into the space Omer would usually be in, Vujovic found him with a fizzed pass. Gannot’s first touch was exemplary, trapping the ball with consummate ease before getting it out of his feet and ready to move on. Omer briefly backed into Talukdar before spinning him and Gannot spotted what the young attacking midfielder was trying to do, playing a beautifully disguised reverse pass on Talukdar’s wrong side. Kuhar-Arh ran onto it and took one slightly heavy touch, running the ball almost too close to Tinnu. He felt an arm in his back, presumably Talukdar trying to put him off, but managed to keep his footing. Tinnu was rushing out, Kuhar-Arh was stretching to get there.
The Mytanar got there first. He got his foot under the ball, scooping it over Tinnu’s body and it bounced once before going over the line. It was 4-0 and a goal on debut for Omer Kuhar-Arh. His body took over once again and he was sliding on his knees behind the goal with supporters celebrating. The rest of the Mytanar team mobbed him, all proud of their young colleague’s introduction to international football and for just a moment Omer’s thoughts were calm and the stormy seas in his mind had settled. Even an injury time consolation for Hebitaka couldn’t burst his bubble. It was only when he was in the changing room again, after the many congratulations, that it finally hit him.
He wouldn’t know until tomorrow if they would be alright.
Somewhere in the Modraine Sea, aboard a fishing vessel named DelilaA group of hardy fishermen crowd around a small, battered radio. It would have cost a significant number of Coruns when it had first been purchased, it managed to get signal even way out at sea, weather permitting of course. None of the men were quite sure how it worked, but the point was that it did. They all knew this was a big moment and for four of them in particular even the fierce storm they were enduring wouldn’t prevent them from tuning the radio in to the correct station. Every so often the sound would go fuzzy, almost a crackle of static obscuring whatever was being said.
“Vinko will you get that fucking thing tuned in properly, eh?” One yelled from the back of the crowd. “We can’t hear a thing back here, it keeps breaking up.”
“It’s the weather Jure, nothing I can do about it.” Vinko spat back. It wasn’t any of the Kuhar-Arhs who were squabbling. They were all sat in silence, straining their ears to try and catch every word of the commentary. The group had all erupted in noise when Omer had entered the pitch and there had been disappointment when the commentator relayed Alen Hrdaljko’s frustration with their young hero. The four Kuhar-Arhs on
Delila all remained quiet throughout. The minutes ticked by, past 80 minutes and into 81 and 82. Nobody could tell if it was the storm outside or the noise of the crowd on the radio, but suddenly there was a lift in the volume. Adian – Omer’s father – was now only centimetres away from the radio’s speakers as he tried to hear every word.
He needn’t have been quite so close.
‘
Slobodan Vujovic moves up the right-wing with the ball here, the youngster has been excellent since coming on. That’s clever movement from Damien Gannot, dropping into space and receiving the ball from Vujovic. Excellent touch from Gannot! He’s got space! Kuhar-Arh’s running in behind if Gannot can find him. That’s a beautiful pass! Heavy touch from Kuhar-Arh! Can he get there first?! It’s a goal on debut for Omer Kuhar-Arh! He beats Ganesh Tinnu to the ball and it’s 4-0 Mytanija! Omer Kuhar-Arh!’
The fishermen all jumped up in celebration, the din inside the boat almost matching the roar of the storm outside as the boat rocked in the swirling waves. Adian Kuhar-Arh and his sons all embraced, kissing one another’s foreheads. His son, their brother, had scored an international goal on his first international appearance. They had all hugged him goodbye knowing it would be bittersweet. Knowing that they would be out at sea for it. He had begged them to come back safe, but they all knew it was in the hands of the sea deities. They had gone out and returned safely hundreds of times before and had all told him that would happen again, he just needed to go and focus on playing well if he got the chance to get on the pitch.
They would be there next time, at least they hoped they would be. The collective ecstasy, both among the family and the other sailors punctuated the slightly more concerning storm they found themselves in, an oasis of happiness amongst the writhing waters outside. Adian Kuhar-Arh offered up a small prayer. He just wanted to tell his son how well he had done, how he deserved everything he got for his hard work and how proud he was to be his dad.
“Please, Lord, just let us get home safely this time.”
MYTANIJA SQUAD FOR MATCHES VERSUS THE KYTLER PENINSULAE (A) & D.K. OF SOUTH INDIA (H)
Goalkeepers: 1. Pedja Kasun (Ararat Severyan); 12. Semir Besak (Mipojoseon [QUE]); 24. Lazar Obradovic (Liria Prizren)
Defenders: 2. Damir Milcic (Anomalies [CMT]); 3. Grigorij Savicevic (AC Izotz Zubia [AUD]), 4. Mojmir Anac (Olympic Thessia), 5. Dino Racic (Libertas Bergheim [SVJ]; 6. Patrik Odonelec (CA Paulinthal [PAS]); 25. Ermin Urankar (Ararat Severyan); 14. Bigger Mbala-Ekakia (Atletik Thessia), Kamil Jernejec (Chromatik [CMT]), 16. Josko Omerovic (Olympic Thessia); 17. Slobodan Vujovic (Royal Rumiatzi [ASG])
Midfielders: 7. Alen Hrdaljko (CA Paulinthal [PAS]), 8. Tahir Fejzuli (Mâ Âlâmëómë [FFD]); 10. Jasno Odonelec (Atletik Thessia); 23. Zijad Kurtcehajic (Atletik Thessia); 19. Mersudin Smajic (Liria Prizren), 30. Sefir Ajanovic (FK Arsika); 38. Omer Kuhar-Arh (Ararat Severyan)
Forwards: 9. Jezdimir Ocokoljic (Energija Chernovets [STL]), 11. Damien Gannot (Sabrefell Athletic (NPH); 21. Dejan Zgela (Damogran FC [SRS])