"That bicycle kick was something else," Paul Otterson said, shaking his head. "Zachary has already elevated his skills to a level we can't even imagine."
"The setpiece was even more refined than in his days back in the academy," Kendrick Otterson chipped in. "He must have put in a lot of effort to reach such a level."
"Nah," Kasongo said, shaking his head. "It's not just effort, but talent. No matter how much you train, if you lack the talent, you won't manage to make such an improvement in a year."
The other two sighed at that before casting their gazes back at the LCD-TV flat-screen atop one of the tables on one side of their kitchen at Moholt. The three of them had watched the match via the TV2 Sportskanalen—one of the leading Norwegian sports channels since they couldn't travel all the way to Ålesund.
When Zachary scored the first goal with a bicycle kick, they'd all jumped up in shock. Based on his academy days, they couldn't have imagined he would try such a stunt during an official game. On the other hand, they hadn't been surprised in the slightest by the second goal. They knew how good Zachary was at taking setpieces. He could even hit the goal post twenty out of twenty times from the edge of the 18-yard-box if he so desired on a good day. Finding the back of the net was merely a walk in the park for him.
"Guys," Kendrick said, shaking his head. "We should up our training intensity during the next few months. I feel like if we don't make it to the Rosenborg team this year, we'll never get a chance to play with him again."
"True," Paul said, smiling wryly. "But we still can't rush things. He develops much faster than us, that's for sure. But if we keep on training with the intent to catch up to him, I believe that we'll one day also play at the same level as him."
"Oh, my!" Kendrick exclaimed, gazing at his brother's face intently. "What is that in your eye?" He asked, seemingly agitated.
"Did you notice an abnormality in my eye," Paul probed, his voice rising a bit.
"Let me take a look," Kendrick replied, moving closer to his brother. "Is that a flicker of intelligence that I see in your eyes? That's truly weird!"
"Kendrick," Paul yelled, standing up and balling his fists. "I'll fight you today. I'm tired of your verbal jabs."
Kendrick laughed at that, not the least bit worried about his brother's threats.
"Guys," Kasongo chipped in, pointing at the screen. "Zachary is on TV. You have to watch this. He's the one representing the team for the post-match interview."
On hearing Kasongo's reminder, the two brothers stopped their squabbling—and returned their attention to the TV screen, where Zachary's solemn face had just appeared.
"Aya," Paul said, smiling. "He still looks like he wants to beat up someone. Why can't he smile for the camera?"
"Shhhhh!" The two others shushed him, more or less in unison.
"The press conference is starting. Let's listen to Zachary first." Kendrick said, increasing the volume on the television with the remote.
"Zachary, there was quite a lot going on in the second half," the reporter said, his voice coming to them through the TV speakers. "How do you feel after coming on as a substitute and helping your team stage the perfect comeback?"
"Well, I feel excited," Zachary said succinctly and solemnly.
"What went through your mind at the time when your coach asked you to head onto the pitch? Did you believe that you would score two goals and make an assist at that time?"
"Of course, I believed that my team, Rosenborg, could stage a comeback and win the game," Zachary replied, still wearing a stern expression. "But I wasn't even 50% sure that I would score. Football is a team sport. There are eleven players on the field. Anyone can get the goal and help the team win. It just depends on who gets the opportunity."
"So, you believed you could win at the time?"
"Yes, of course," Zachary replied, his voice firm. "I always head into every game with the sole belief that I'll emerge as the victor. When I entered the game, all that was on my mind was how to create opportunities and score. I had been watching the game from the sidelines and already knew we could do it. That was what drove me to give my all out there on the pitch."
"This is only your second game in Rosenborg colors. Didn't you feel any pressure when you came on at such a time when your team was two goals down?"
"Nope," Zachary replied. "Just excitement at finally getting the opportunity to perform."
"Let's talk about the goals," the reporter continued. "Your first goal was really out of this world."
"Oh, yes," Zachary replied, smiling for the first time on screen. "I just tried my luck with a bicycle-kick and luckily hit the target. I also couldn't believe it at the time. It was my first time trying out something like that."
"Then the second goal..."
"For the second goal, it was easy for me since it was in a very suitable position. I merely had to focus and hit the ball right to score."
"We saw quite a bit of contention amongst you and your teammates before you took the free-kick. What was going on?"
"Nothing much," Zachary said solemnly. "We were only discussing the best strategy for taking the free-kick amongst ourselves. And you should know that since it was the final minute, things can get intense as everyone on the team tries to offer their advice."
"Was that really it?"
"What else could it have been?" Zachary countered with a question, frowning slightly. But the expression made him seem all the more like he was about to punch someone.
"No worries, Zachary," the reporter said hurriedly. "I was only asking to determine why you were the person to take the free-kick out of all your teammates."
"That's simple," Zachary said, his expression softening. "I was given the responsibility to take the free-kick because I was the player with the best luck on the team at that moment."
"Luck?"
"Yes, my luck was the highest at the time," Zachary said solemnly.
"Moving on," the reporter intoned, seemingly defeated by Zachary's response. "Are you really eighteen, as they say? We saw you bullying the Aalesunds midfielders out there, sometimes by simply relying on your physique. You didn't look like an eighteen-year-old out there."
"Well, how old do you think I am, then?" Zachary countered with a question, smiling slightly. He appeared to have already gotten used to standing in front of the camera.
"At first glance, I would say you're at least twenty-five," the reporter said jokingly. "That is especially so since we got to see your well-defined muscles when you were celebrating your second goal."
"Well, I eat well. There's nothing much to it."
The reporter laughed at that before saying: "Zachary, it was a pleasure having you here. Congratulations on becoming the man of the match. I wish you a successful career. May we see you here again, soon."
"Thank you," Zachary replied, and his image disappeared from the screen—replaced by the three live television pundits in the studio.
"There you have it," Samantha Fladset, the female presenter, said, using the Norwegian language. "That was Zachary Bemba having an interview with Olav Brusveen—our reporter at the Color Line Stadion in Ålesund—where the match between Aalesunds Fotballklubb and Rosenborg Ballklub has just ended."
"Zachary is a player that likes to win," she continued, the corners of her lips curling into a smile. "And, of course, he's a player who eats well. Those were his words."
The other two in the studio laughed at that.
"Harald," Samantha said, turning towards a male in a suit on her left. "You were the on-pitch pundit for Rosenborg's game against Strindheim during mid-week. What do you make of him?"
"The boy is talented, for sure," Harald Brattbakk, the Rosenborg legend, said, smiling. "Mid-week, he produced that incredible assist and scored that shocker from outside the 18-yard box. We all said; oh well, he was just against a second division team. But this time around, he was against Aalesunds, the team currently on top of the table. Yet, he still managed to dominate the midfield and even score two incredible goals. What a player!"
"You're absolutely right, Harald," André Rekdal, the other pundit for the day, chipped in. "I have just taken a look at his game stats just now. He played for 29 minutes. In those 29 minutes, he made 72 touches on the ball and had a 97% pass completion rate. He produced five key passes, which all resulted in clear shots on goal. He also won quite the number of ground and aerial duels in midfield, helping his team dictate the tempo. And of course, we can't forget his incredible assist and the two goals. What a player, indeed!"
"Do you think that the two goals will make it into Tippeligaen's monthly best list?" The presenter inquired.
"Absolutely," André Rekdal replied right away, his tone confident. "Especially the first goal. That was a shocker that we haven't seen here in the Tippeligaen in forever. Have we?" He looked at Harald inquiringly.
"Not in any of the matches that I can remember," Harald replied, shaking his head.
"Well, I thought so too," André said, smiling. "That bicycle-kick was a shocker that should be among the top goals of the season. The second goal was also out of this world. The way Zachary applied that spin on the ball to curl it over the defense was simply genius. I really don't know where Rosenborg has been hiding this boy. Harald, can you enlighten us?"
"Funny question." Harald laughed. "I'm not on Rosenborg's management. They're simply my former employers."
"To answer that question," Samantha Fladset, the presenter, cut in. "Zachary has been in the NF Academy for the past two years. He played in some of the smaller international competitions like the Riga and SIA Cups and performed quite well."
"Of course, we can't forget his performance in the Norway Youth Cup," Harald chipped in, smiling. "That was the first time I saw him on the pitch. He was the MVP of that tournament."
"There's too much that we don't know about Zachary." Samantha chuckled. "But Coach Johansen says that he's one of Rosenborg's secret weapons for this season."
"But not so secret, any longer," André said, grinning. "The other teams are now aware of the threat he poses on the pitch. I'm guessing that plenty of them are already devising means on how to handle him during the next few games."
"Yes, exactly," Harald concurred. "In the past two games, I felt like he was allowed free reign in the middle of the field since very few were aware of his skill level. But he should be facing some hard times when the coaches start targeting him."
"Well, let's wait and see how he performs against Tromsø mid-week," Samantha chipped in. "For now, let's check out the table standings after the first two matches of the Tippeligaen's Match-Day-7. Rosenborg has moved into third place with 13 points after their victory today. Ahead of them is Strømsgodset Toppfotball in the second position, also with 13 points, but they play tomorrow. And in the first place is still Aalesunds Fotballklubb also at 13 points. This quite the table! Three teams tied at 13 points."
"The Tippeligaen is turning out to be very competitive this season," André, the pundit, chipped in. "It's no longer the old days of the Harald's where Rosenborg used to dominate everything."
"True, that," Harald replied, smiling. "But with the new secret weapon, who knows? Maybe, this is another golden age of Rosenborg..." His voice died away mid-sentence as Kendrick had reduced the volume of the screen.
The three boys then sat in silence, mulling over the info they had just gotten. They were too shocked by Zachary's performance after hearing his detailed match stats.
"Tomorrow, I am waking up at five to train," Kendrick said after a moment.
"Me too," Both Kasongo and Paul Otterson replied, more or less in unison. They had set their priorities straight after watching Zachary's performance on the professional stage.
**** ****
