“…Laktaw lumps it forward, still trying to find a consolation if nothing else for this Abanhfleft side. They’ve been thoroughly outclassed by Qasden for the entirety of this game, but there’s still some desire left in there, if only to make things a little less embarrassing than it already is. Julien Lakandula chests it down. He has some space to cut inside… and he’s found the back of the net! Somehow, Julien Lakandula has scored a goal for Abanhfleft! It will be nothing more than a mere consolation, but at the very least, the Revolutionaries will walk away from the 7th Brevity Cup with three goals to their name…”
The 7th Brevity Cup had been a tough competition for the Abanhfleft national football team in general, and for the Laktaw family in particular. James Laktaw, the 20-year old left-sided center back from Sporting Ceneisis (though currently playing for Paulsen FC on loan) had not really covered himself in glory in this tournament, being part of the back line that conceded eight goals in the competition. Half of those had been conceded against the Vans of Qasden, and even James himself would have had to admit that he could have done better with trying to prevent at least one or two of those goals. That said, Qasden was still very much the better team on that day, and even if James and the defense had been able to stop two goals, the Vans still probably would have emerged victorious, albeit with a more respectable scoreline from Abanhfleft’s point of view.
Maybe it would have been better for James if all of that hadn’t happened with his family in attendance, or maybe it wouldn’t have made a difference. But the rest of the Laktaw family was there to witness Abanhfleft’s capitulation in the Royal Kingdom of Quebec at the hands of the Vans: father Randy, mother Leonora, and little brother Arnel. The Samahang Futbol ng Abanhfleft (SFA) had gone all out with providing all-expenses-paid trips for the players’ families in the honestly deluded opinion that Abanhfleft’s stay in Quebec would be a long one, and there was definitely a feeling that a lot of these players’ families felt short-changed about the whole thing, especially after the SFA practically ordered all these people who had come to Quebec on their account back home after the team had been knocked out after playing only three games. At the time, the Laktaw siblings made fun of the situation, but then a few months after the Brevity Cup, Arnel received his call-up for the Fleftic under-18 national team, which was due to take part in the latest edition of the Under-18 World Cup in Tumbra, and Arnel realized that he was about to become part of the bottling machine that is the Abanhfleft national football team setup.
Arnel would be lying if he said that he wasn’t nervous when he set foot on the SFA’s training grounds a short distance away from the May 26 Revolution Stadium in Riuwiee. And he had a lot of reasons to be nervous. Arnel wouldn’t necessarily call himself a shy person, but he definitely wasn’t a social butterfly either. He just liked taking his time with scoping out places and people, trying to get to know them better before he made the commitment to striking up a friendship, or at least trying to strike one up. This wasn’t to say that he didn’t have a lot of friends; he did, but it just so happened that most of them weren’t part of the Fleftic national under-18 team. As far as Arnel could tell, he was the only player from Sporting Ceneisis to have been called up to the team, and while he knew some faces on the training ground as well, those faces belonged to players whom Arnel had played against in the youth league for clubs which were considered rivals of Sporting Ceneisis. Those rivalries weren’t as strong as they were before, but Arnel was still apprehensive about approaching someone from the likes of Riuwiee United, Arsenal de Releinthi, or Wanda Island Wanderers.
“Hey, new kid!” someone called out from the other end of the pitch. Arnel looked and saw someone in the black and blue training jacket of Abanhfleft waving at him to come over. Arnel waved back as he walked over to the guy.
“Welcome to the Abanhfleft national team, kid!” the guy who had waved at Arnel said as the latter arrived, and the two of them shook hands. “This is where we all start to learn how to lose every single game of international football that we’re about to play. Name’s Lance, Lance Capinpin. And you are?”
“Arnel. Arnel Laktaw.”
“Nice. Any relation to James?” Lance asked.
“Yeah, he’s actually my older brother,” Arnel replied.
“Great! So you’re continuing in his footsteps then, I see,” Lance said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Arnel asked, not sure if he was being pranked or if this was some sort of initiation ritual.
“What I mean is that you are about to join your brother James in adding to Abanhfleft’s football history,” Lance replied. “Oh, come on, man, take it easy! You and your brother aren’t the only siblings that the SFA is about to ruin. See that guy over there? In the red long sleeves? That’s Kory Lakandula, younger brother of Julien Lakandula. Another pair of siblings that Abanhfleft has managed to convince to become part of this massive bottling operation. Damn, man. I don’t know how they do it,” Lance said, smiling while shaking his head at the same time.
“Seriously though, what on earth are you talking about?” Arnel asked. “Okay, I’m familiar with all the Abanhfleft bottling jokes. At this point, who wouldn’t? But now you just sound like you’re talking to talk. I don’t get it, man. I really don’t.”
“Come on, man, that’s easy,” Lance shrugged. “I’m your striker, you’re my winger. You’re gonna be supporting me for the majority of the games we’re going to play in Tumbra. Which might only be three if you think about it, but that’s still three games that the two of us are going to have to work together. I gotta know if you can roll with me, know what I’m saying?”
“Now I’m just even more confused,” Arnel shook his head.
“Hoy, Capinpin!” another voice shouted. “You’re up for the next drill! Stop fucking around and let’s go!”
“Sounds like that’s my cue to go,” Lance said to Arnel. “Don’t think that you’re free of me just yet, man. We forward players will have our own training session later on!” he added as he trotted off to the other side of the pitch. Once Lance had left, another player approached Arnel. This one was wearing goalkeeper’s gloves as well as a bright yellow training bib over his red jacket. “Was he giving you a hard time?” the goalie asked.
“Maybe,” Arnel shrugged. “I’m not really sure what just happened back there.”
“In that case then he was probably just fooling around like he always does,” the goalkeeper muttered. “Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that Lance likes to push buttons, especially with the other forwards. He thinks it’s some sort of team-building thing or whatever. And they say us goalkeepers are the crazy ones… Just don’t take the bait, that’s what I’m trying to say about him.”
“Yeah, I’ll try to keep that in mind,” Arnel nodded hesitantly. “Um, who are you again?”
“Oops! Almost forgot about that,” the goalkeeper said. “Christopher Pabalan, Chris for short,” he added as he extended his hand for Arnel to shake. “And you must be James Laktaw’s little brother.”
“It’s really that obvious, huh,” Arnel muttered as he shook Christopher’s hand. “What an introduction to the national team, right?”
“And that’s just the first guy,” Christopher added. “Wait until you’ve met the rest of us!”
“Great, looking forward to it,” Arnel said with as little enthusiasm as possible. He had always been under the impression that receiving a call-up from the national team was one of the greatest honors that a football player could have outside of actually winning trophies, but for some reason, getting called up to the Abanhfleft national football team felt more like being called to the principal’s office. Or maybe being called to the mental hospital was a more appropriate comparison, considering that the team seemed to be full of nutcases. Or maybe Arnel had just had some bad luck when it came to meeting the weirder characters on the team, and that the rest would be regular Joes just like him. In any case, Arnel had just come to the conclusion that maybe getting called up to play for Abanhfleft was not so great after all. But maybe some time with the team could help turn his perspective around. Who knows? Maybe he could even help this team to a trophy. Now that was some crazy talk.
