The Next Big Thing

David Jones stood still, his heart pounding as he scanned the list posted on the board. Players crowded around it, some leaning in closer, others whispering anxiously. He barely noticed them. His only focus was on that piece of paper, his eyes moving from top to bottom, searching.

His stomach twisted.

There it was—Antony.

David felt a sharp sinking feeling. But he forced himself to keep looking, his heart hammering against his ribs. Then, at the very bottom, second-to-last, his name stood out in bold letters:

DAVID JONES.

For a moment, his breath caught in his throat. He had expected this. He had trained for this. But actually seeing his name on the Manchester United matchday squad list made his chest swell with pride. He wanted to shout, to punch the air, to celebrate—

But before he could, a loud voice cut through the buzz of murmurs.

"WHAT?! I’M NOT THERE?!"

The outburst made David glance to his left.

Anthony Martial stood frozen, his face contorted with disbelief and barely contained rage. His eyes flickered across the list again, desperately scanning for his name as if a second look would change reality.

"How can I not be picked?!" Martial’s voice was rising, drawing the attention of nearby players. "I was the best striker last season! I scored the most goals! Are you playing with me?!"