Chapter 154: Manchester united vs Aston villa
The lineup appeared on the screen in the locker room, and David’s heart pounded as he saw his name among the starters. He looked around and found himself in the middle of the pitch in his mind’s eye. A slow smile spread across his face as he turned to his teammates, absorbing the moment.
Aaron Wan-Bissaka at right-back. Harry Maguire and Victor Lindelöf as the center-back duo. Luke Shaw at left-back. David de Gea in goal. The midfield trio—Bruno Fernandes as the attacking midfielder, Paul Pogba in central midfield, and Scott McTominay as the defensive anchor. Up front, Marcus Rashford on the left, Cristiano Ronaldo as the main striker, and David himself on the right wing.
His body surged with energy, an electric charge firing through his veins. He had been picked. This was his chance. He clenched his fists in excitement, feeling his muscles tighten in anticipation. Then, a shadow loomed over him.
Ronaldo.
"Okay, kid," the legend smirked. "Time to show me those assists you’ve been talking about."
David chuckled, nodding, but inside, his focus was razor-sharp. Assists? Sure. But he had his eyes on the goal, too. He wasn’t just here to supply chances—he was here to leave his mark.
As they stepped onto the pitch, the atmosphere was surreal. The stadium was empty. No roaring fans, no deafening chants—just silence, save for the occasional echoes of voices and the sounds of boots scuffing the grass. It was almost eerie, but David didn’t mind. If anything, it made him even more locked in. Today wasn’t about the crowd. It was about proving himself.
The Aston Villa squad lined up against them. Emi Martinez in goal. Matty Cash, Ezri Konsa, Tyrone Mings, and Matt Targett forming the backline. Douglas Luiz, John McGinn, and Ross Barkley in midfield. And up front—Bertrand Traoré, Ollie Watkins, and Jack Grealish.
The referee stepped forward, placed the ball in the center circle, and blew the whistle.
Ronaldo took the kickoff, tapping the ball to David.
As soon as the ball reached his feet, David felt everything fade away—the pressure, the expectations, the nerves. All that mattered was the game. A grin tugged at his lips. Let’s go.