Chapter 2: 2. ROGER’S FIRST GAME

Roger was hopeless. No matter how hard he tried to make something out of the game, the first half was going abysmally. The game had started on a positive note, with all the players pumped up after being given rousing speeches by Coach and Maaravi respectively. But things went awry near minutes after they stepped on the court.

The match started decently well with the ball being rolled out in the middle and Roger being able to get possession before any of the rival players on the Factum team could get the chance. But as soon as Roger went to throw a pass it was intercepted. If it was not for Jonas and Hueng doing their defensive duties at Left and Right Tank, Factum would have got the ball into their score-box and it would have been all Roger’s fault. He tried not to think about it too much and continued on with the game. 

Later on in the half, Heung picked up the ball and passed it to Blunt. Blunt exchanged the ball over to Eta at right sprinter. Eta went for an ambitious cross-court pass, the ball flying its way towards Roger at left sprinter. This is when Roger's instincts immediately kicked in.

 He kicked the ball towards Zack who caught it with grace. Zack held the ball and grinned at Factum's main tank who attempted to block off the box.

With an expert precise throw, Zack launched the ball towards it. The throw proves too quick and powerful to block and lands inside the box in the backboard, granting Maxus their first goal. The Maxus crowd went animalistic whilst the Factum visitors booed. 

“Goal for Maxus University.” announced a robotic voice over the intercom. “Number #9 - Zack Caleb.”

As Zack basked in the glory of celebration, Roger’s nerves eased. Now they got a good hold of the game. Or so he thought. 

Mistake after mistake, error after error, for some reason Maxus University lost their touch as the game went on, so much so that the first half ended:

MAXUS UNIVERSITY: 1  -   5 : UNIVERSITY OF FACTUM

“Coach is going to kill us.” Roger grunted as they walked back to the changing rooms. And he was right. 

The Maxus players sat in the changing room, downtrodden and defeated as Maria yelled  incomprehensible instructions at them. The coarse coach snarled like a deranged rabid animal as she  pointed toward an electronic board over and over again. 

“... AND YOU BETTER GET BACK OUT THERE AND NOT MAKE A FUCKING FOOL OF YOURSELVES NEXT HALF!” Coach Maria finished with a roar. She left the room, letting the players stew in their own silent shame. Though it was not long until that silence was broken. 

“Could've avoided that little performance if the tanks and alternates did their jobs in defence like they are supposed to do!” complained Zack. 

“This is coming from the guy who never comes to training?” responded Blunt. 

“Yeah, I'm surprised you even knew what was going on out there you lazy prick!” piled on Jonas. 

“And yet I was the only one who scored. So go fuck yourself.” retorted Zack. Jonas bunched up his fist, as if he was all but ready to lay Zack out right then and there. 

“Guys, fighting doesn't change anything.” interjected Maaravi. 

“Why don't we talk about the one difference here?” said Jonas, still hot. “ Roger joined and suddenly we’re getting shit on! Darius wouldn't have made any of the mistakes this useless fuck made!”

Roger's eyes were fixated on the floor as he looked down in embarrassment. He had not moved from this position even slightly since he had come back to the changing room. His face looked drained from all its colour.

“Give him a break, it's his first match.” defended Maaravi. 

“Nah, I won’t give him a break!” exclaimed Jonas. “I get that he’s new, but he better start adapting quickly.”

“How about you adapt to actually blocking our scorebox?” chided Zack. “What use is all that muscle of yours if you’re just going to let that slithering snake Ayodele Djedje knock you down about five times!”
“You better shut that big mouth of yours, pretty boy!” Jonas shouted back at him. The two players squared up to each other, eager for the other to throw the first blow. Blunt stepped his compact person  in between the two tall athletes. 

“Guys, stop fighting…I know how we can salvage something from this game in the second half.” he said. Zack and Jonas’ hot-streaks both calmed down as they looked down at Blunt.  The ears of all the players perked up, waiting to hear what Blunt had to say. “The rule book says that if you manage to kick the ball into the box you get two points as opposed to one point for throwing. Zack, do you think you could pull that off?”

“I guess I could try-”

“I’ll do it.” Roger interrupted. Everyone’s eyes darted towards Roger, shocked that he even had anything to say after that half. Nevermind this. Jonas laughed at the notion. 

“But you can’t even-”

“I’ll. Fucking. Do it.” asserted Roger, his eyes strict and serious. He meant it. Jonas laughed at the notion again, but everyone else seemed to actually start to take it into account. 

Blunt looked towards Zack who shrugged. He sighed, then  nodded at Roger. Maaravi clasped his hands together.

“It’s settled,” said Maaravi. “Now please for the love of God can we put our differences aside and at least try and gain something from this game?”

The team let out a series of incomprehensible grumbles of agreements. Maaravi clasped his hands together two more times,  then led them out of the changing room.

As the second-half went  underway, Roger's anxious and dejected disposition had turned into one of pure stone. He looked back up at the 5-1 scoreboard.

“Enough of this.” Roger muttered to himself. 

“Let the second half begin,” said the announcer on the intercom. 

The second-half started with Factum’s right sprinter retrieving the ball from the roll-out. Before he could press forward however, Maaravi swiftly robbed him of the ball, granting Maxus possession. He passed the ball over to  Blunt. With the ball held tightly in his grasp, Blunt  gave Roger a knowing nod. Roger nodded back. 

Blunt threw the ball down, aiming for his feet. With killer instinct, Roger belts the ball with a strike, sending it coursing towards the score-box. The ball surged past all of the tanks who failed to block it and headed its way towards the score-box, only to miss the box and smack itself against the backboard instead. Roger grunted with frustration as the ball bounced back.  

As the ball bounced back again, Zack opted to try his luck with the strike from foot. Zack’s shot was much more accurate than Roger’s, but at the last second Factum's right tank smacked the ball away before it could land in the scorebox. 

Jonas watched on from the back of the court, grinding his teeth. He  raised his arms in frustration at the two misses, accidentally smacking his elbow off of the nose of a Factum alternate who was standing beside him. 

“Do you fucking mind?”

“Fuck off, pencil neck.” Jonas snapped at him. The Factum player did not appreciate this at all. He punched Jonas in the arm. 

Jonas punched him back, and in a couple of seconds, proved how easy it is to get into a fight with Jonas Jans. 

“BRAWL! BRAWL! BRAWL!”  chanted both teams and their onlooking fans with excited passion as the two players duked it out.  

“Brawl Break! We have a brawl break!” shouted the announcer over the intercom. 

As time went on the Jonas and the Factum players' scrap slowly turned into an organised fight in the middle of the court with all the players surrounding them in a circle. Jonas seemed to be dominating the bout with constant blows to his body. But the Factum player proved no slouch. Though he was shorter and slimmer than Jans he put up enough of a fight to cause Jans to need to flail and punch wildly just for the chance to hit him. 

The Factum player attempted to duck under one of Jonas’ body punches, only to end up causing Jonas to accidentally hit him in the face. The player snorted in pain as blood filled his nose. 

“Illegal move! He hit me in the face!” exclaimed the alternate.

“No I didn't!” shouted Jonas.

“He did! Illegal move! Illegal move!” insisted the Factum player. With panicked eyes, Jonas quickly turned towards the golden-shirted referees on the sidelines. They looked as if they were considering sanctioning it as an illegal move. Jonas turned back to the Factum player, staring him down with intimidation. 

“You better cut that shit out before-”

Suddenly from the stands above, an unknown force tipped over two huge vats of chocolate pudding from each side of the court. The players had no time to react before they all saw themselves covered in pudding from head to toe, slipping and tripping over chocolate.  

The pudding not only made a mess of the two teams, but it made a mess on the court and caused pandemonium amongst the people in all areas of the gymnasium. Roger watched as the students and faculty of Maxus panicked and dash throughout the area as chocolate from the above stands kept falling down on them relentlessly. It seemed crowds of people always did this whenever Roger and his teammates were around. For one reason or another. 

“Well that's not something you see everyday!” said the announcer. 

Minutes later, the Maxus players re-entered  the changing rooms, covered in chocolate pudding, confused as ever.

“What. The Fuck. Just happened...” uttered Zack. 

“I know…” said Maaravi. “...how did those vats of pudding fall from the sk-

Chelsea marched into the changing room, waving her hands in a dramatic ploy to get everyone’s attention. It works. 

“Don't worry about how it happened. Just be glad it did.” she dismissed with some more waving of her hands. Roger looked at her with suspicion. “The courts have been ruined and it's gonna be a bitch to clean up. We’ve agreed upon rescheduling to play the second half two days from now. So you have 48 hours to sort your shit out. Got it?”

The players all nodded, albeit still immensely confused by what had just happened. Chelsea offered up a wink but with  no elaboration.

“Great. See you then, try not to let us down this time!” she signed off cheerfully, exiting the room before anyone could ask her anything. 

“Fuck this!” exclaimed Jonas punching one of the jersey hangers and staining it with chocolate pudding. He stormed out of the room, glaring at his teammates as he did so. 

Roger carefully took a seat down on the changing room benches. He scratched his head, deeply bewildered.

“So this is university level Vincball.” he whispered to himself. 

The next morning, Roger was seated amongst a class of twenty on the front row as a lecturer carried out an Economics seminar. He had made sure to leave two empty seats between himself and the next person.

As the lecturer talked, Roger did not listen. Instead, he had his head buried inside a notebook which he had scribbled Vincball formations onto with illegible notes written around them. Roger’s wide brown eyes shook as he studied the paper meticulously. 

“The number one most pitiful performance of my lifetime and career and it had to be on my university debut.” he grumbled to himself quietly. “Fucking pathetic.”

Roger made even more notes  around the formation he had written in his book. The more he wrote, the less readable his handwriting became. 

“But I've been doing so well in training, what did I miss?” he muttered to himself. “ What did I do wrong? I thought I had a good gauge on my opponents, but apparently not...maybe I can rectify my mistakes during the rescheduled second half?”   

He rubbed his head and let out a soft yet stressed out sigh.

“What’s the point? I'll never make a name for myself at this rate!” Roger muttered, his quiet croaked voice ladened with stress. “All my hard work just to trip at the first hurdle. I’m going to die an unaccomplished worthless sack of shite, with no money and no prospects!”

Roger's lecturer noticed him mouthing something to himself. Soon it became the case that most of the other people in the room were watching him, wondering what he was grunting and wheezing under his breath and why he was doing it in the first place. But Roger was not concerned. He continued to quietly lament to himself with his head in his hands. 

Later, after training had come to an end, Maaravi and Roger walked together through the outskirts of campus main. As they came up to the green pond, their paths diverged with Maaravi taking the path left of the pond that led down to the road where his accommodation building was situated. 

“I'll see you later Roger,” he said. “And don't beat up yourself about the game, okay?”

“Okay.” sighed Roger. The two waved goodbye to each other as Maaravi headed down his street. Roger continued on past the pond, intentionally trudging his feet down into the muddy-grass of the green across from it. As Roger reached the curve of the pond, he came across a bench situated on the rocky shore path that stopped right before the pond. And laying on the bench was Zack, sky-gazing in the most lackadaisical manner possible. This made Roger furious. 

“Oh hey Roger.” Zack greeted with a grin as he saw Roger march his way towards him. But Roger was not in the mood to greet back. 

“Why the fuck weren't you at training just now?!” Roger yelled at him. Zack’s smug grin faded off of his face. 

“Is that a serious question?” he asked. 

“I don't see why it wouldn't be!” yelled Roger. “It makes me wonder, do you even take any of this seriously?”

“It’s not that deep Roger…” Zack groaned. 

“How can you say that after we lost 5-1 in one half the other day?”

“Remind me again, did I score during that match and look good doing it?”

“Well, yeah.” answered Roger reluctantly. 

“Then it was a win in my book.” chuckled Zack. He lay back down, folding his arms behind his head and returned to his sky-gazing. His smug-smirk was returning back to his face again and it was making Roger livid. 

“Why are you even fucking here?” spat Roger. “Why even come to this university and take up this scholarship if you're just going to act like a lazy ambition-less cunt the whole time?”

“Calm yourself Vegunbe,” Zack warned him. “You don't want to start saying things you don't mean…”

“Once in a generation talent my arse.” spat Roger. “Keep this shit up and you'll be washed up by second year.”

You are reading story Vincball at novel35.com

Zack opened his mouth to rebuttal but Roger would not give him the chance, marching away from him. Zack was forced to sit there and actually think about what Roger had just said. He looked into his reflection in the pond and contemplated. 

Roger did not return to his accommodation after his argument with Zack. He made a detour and ended up  sitting on the floor of the outdoor court with an old worn out vincball in his hand. He saw a group of students playing Vincball in the distance. He stood up on his feet,thinking of joining them, but is too dejected to follow through. He retook his seat on the floor. 

Roger turned around the vincball. He made out a fade writing on the other end of the ball. Due to how worn out the ball is, Roger can barely make out what was written in marker - “Your dreams will become your reality” - Love Mum. 

“Maybe this wasn't the answer to any of our problems.” he sighed. He stood up and made his way off of the court.

 

On the other side of campus, Chelsea rested her back against the front of a sandwich shop, her phone pressed tightly against her ear. 

“Mhmm...mhmm...mhmm...yeah of course...come on, I believe that goes without saying.” she said to the person on the other line. “Yes, yes I know it’s unorthodox but can you blame me? Pudding literally fell from the sky!..right…yes…okay, I’ll make sure to reign them in…sure…of course… bye.”

Chelsea hung up the phone. She shook her head and sighed, visibily stressed. Her stress did not stop a wide smile from making its way across her face anyway. 

“The things I do for Vincball.” she snickers malevolently. 

 

Roger sat at his desk in his room with his head in his hands. He stared at the knife carvings he made into the wood, saddened and melancholy. He does not move for a while. His phone dings. He sees he had received a text message from his mother. It read:

 “Hope you’re enjoying uni so far. Love you x.” Roger responds with a simple “Love you too.”

Roger smiled as he looked at his mothers profile picture - it depicted a happy toothless baby Roger with a ball in his hand, piggy-backing upon his smiling mother. Suddenly a wave of realisation seemed to wash over him.

“What am I doing?” Roger asked himself. “Since when do I sulk over small failures? Since when do I let things like this affect my mood?”

Roger cleaned up the wood carving off his messy desk with great speed then got up from it, standing proudly.

“Life rarely throws you second chances at opportunities and I've always been one to capitalise on them.” he said, psyching himself up. He opened up his notebook and looked at his schedule.

“I still have 14 hours to figure out how to gel with this team, to walk onto that court and finish that match once and for all.”

Roger rifled through his wardrobe and picked out his jersey. He stared at it with great pride and purpose. He quickly put it on and admires himself in the mirror. 

“The Vegunbe they'll see tomorrow will play ten times better than they can ever anticipate, expect or comprehend…”

The next morning, Maaravi walked  towards the outdoor courts with his training equipment with him. He was surprised to see that Roger, Blunt, Jonas, Eta and Heung were already there, ready to train with him early. The smile on his face stretched wide enough to tear his cheeks. 

“What's going on here?” he asked. 

“Roger urged us to come.” yawned Jonas.  “Persistent twat wouldn't take no for an answer.”

“I for one am glad he did. We could really do with ironing out our regimes before the match today. ” said Blunt.  

“Fair enough.” grunted Jonas. “If lugging myself up at this ungodly hour is going to help us get the comeback of dreams then I'm all for it.”

“So that neanderthal-esque brain of yours is capable of reasonable thought after all.” mocked Roger. Jonas punched Roger in the arm, equal parts amused and annoyed. Roger laughed it off. 

“So why wasn't I told about this?” asked Maaravi. 

“Because I knew you'd be here hours early anyway.”

Maaravi found this very amusing. “We've barely met and you already know me well.”

Roger launched a fast ball at Maaravi, but it proved too fast for the alternate to catch and  zipped right past him. Maaravi turned around to see Zack caught it as he walked up to train with the others.

“What's this? The great Zack Caleb actually showing up to training? snarked Jonas. “What a sight.” 

“Shut up. Let's just get this over with.” grunted Zack. He nodded at Roger and threw the ball back to him. With all seven of the starting line-up on the field, Roger was ready to implement his plans. 

“So I was brainstorming in my room earlier and I thought one of our biggest problems during the last match was regulating our throw power too much.” he said, jumping right out of the gate with theory.  “So to align that I thought lets train outside early in the morning, where wind resistance is at a daily high and temperatures are at a daily low. This will also help us with space creation and even stamina.”

The team looked impressed by Roger’s analysis, especially Blunt who pursed his lips as he tilted his head backwards. 

“Not quite the fundamentals but I like this train of thought.” 

“If we apply these principles well enough. The fairy-tale comeback of dreams could become something of reality.” assured Roger. And with that the boys wasted no time in pressing forward, starting to engage each other in drills. Roger felt a newfound source of energy coursing through him as he saw the team play by his instructions. 

That afternoon, the  court was once again filled with fans, players and cameramen alike, waiting for the game to go underway. The two reporters stood in front of the camera once more.

“And we're here live for the rescheduling of the second half of Maxus and Factum Universities fifth game of the season after a freak accident caused it to be postponed.” reported the male reporter. 

“A freak accident indeed, one that has raised many eyebrows as well as many questions.” added the female reporter. “But my question is, can Maxus really salvage anything from this game after that four goal deficit?”

“The stars say no but I wouldn't hold my breath.” said the male reporter. “Anything can happen in Vincball.”

The match started with the referee rolling the ball out into the middle of the court. The Maxus University players barrelled towards the ball like hounds on the hunt for meat, Zack being the first one to get a taste. With the ball in hand he threw it backwards to Maaravi.

Though having not anticipated the pass, Maaravi went out of his way to crouch down and catch it. A Factum player closed in on him, but he managed to send a perfect pass to Roger in time. The pass was a high overhand one that travelled across the court and took its time to reach Roger. From the second the match started Roger had not taken his eyes off of the ball any second and now it was coming his way. 

Time seemed to slow down as Roger saw the ball fall to foot level. He knew what he wanted to do but did not know whether he should go ahead and do it. 

“It’s worth a shot.” he thought to himself. 

Roger did hesitate to kick the ball towards the score-box. As soon as the shot left his foot he instantly regretted his decision. But then, to his surprise…the ball actually landed in the score-box. Rogers' mouth gaped  open in shock as he saw the ball slot itself perfectly within the Factum backboard hole. His teammates and opponents harboured the same flabbergasted expression on each and every one of their faces. 

“Two point goal for Maxus University. Three match points in total.” said the announcer.  “Number 7 - Roger Vegunbe.”

Roger watched in astonishment as the crowd cheered him on. He could not even bask in any glory as his teammates rushed him down and jumped on him to celebrate. Zack and Jonas lifted him up on their shoulders. Roger regained a confident twinkle in his eye. The fairytale comeback of dreams was on. 

 Using the tactics practised at training Roger and his team mates focused on carrying out more long-range, powerful throws as opposed to short and quick ones. They passed the ball with accuracy and vigour to and fro making key plays, solid runs and most importantly - scoring more goals. 

 Frustrated by their long and hard to reach passes, Factum attempted to rush them but this only allowed for Roger to sprint through them easier and pass it off to Zack for another goal. The score was now 5-4. 

The Factum players started to panic as they saw their lead slipping away from them. They fixed up their play and began to focus more, reading Maxus' plays better and working to stop the long throws from going through. They were somewhat successful in staving off more goals, but the Maxus players looked like they would rather die than quell their efforts. 

Factum maintained possession for a while and skillfully made their way up the court. However through effective positioning, Maxus limited their options, allowing Jonas to block every attempt at goal.

After a while of being dominated, possession was regained by Maxus when Blunt used all of  his might to bash a Factum player to the ground. He picked up the ball  then sent it to Maaravi who tried his hand at a skillful curved long distance throw in the direction of the score-box. The shot lands and the score is tied at 5-5. They were almost there. 

With play resuming, the Factum players moved the ball down the court. Roger looked towards the scoreboard.

“All level! All to play for!” Roger screamed at the others. His urgency was potent, only twenty seconds of the match remained.

Maxus University fans cheered the team on with all their heart and soul. The Factum fans tried to match their atmosphere but their shouts paled in comparison. 

“Come on. Come on. Come on.” Roger muttered to himself obsessively.  “Comeback of dreams, comeback of dreams…”

A Factum player threw for goal but Heung blocked the pass quickly, allowing for Blunt to pick it up and send it to Maaravi. Maaravi went for a short run past a couple Factum players then handed it off to Roger.

Jaw clenched and eyes focused, Roger went for goal with all his might. But the ball is blocked from ever reaching the score box. He regained the ball as it bounced off of the tank's hand and gave it over to Zack. Zack went for goal but this was also blocked. 

Violently determined to get that final goal, Roger  gained the ball again for a third time and attempted to run for it. He could already see the winning goal in his sights as he bombed his way through Factum’s defence. But at the last second, Factum’s left tank violently knocked him over, causing him to drop the ball and lose possession. 

The match ending whistle blew. The final score was 5-5.

University of Factum players were visibly frustrated over the result. Maxus University players seemed content, apart from one. Roger walked down towards the changing rooms early, his head hanging.

“Sometimes wanting it isn't enough.” he sighed to himself. 

Roger sat alone in the changing room, twiddling his thumbs, thoroughly disappointed by the final score. His silence is interrupted by the bursting of the door and the entering of bombastically cheerful teammates. Roger was very surprised to see the rest of his teammates enter the changing room in a celebratory mood. They went over to congratulate him.

“What a half! You must be very happy with yourself Roger!” cheered Maaravi. 

“Really?” asked Roger, growing even more surprised. 

“I take back what I said about how dogshit you were the last half! You were sick out there!” celebrated Jonas as he forced Roger into a headlock of comradery. “Comeback of dreams! Who would've thought?”

Roger released himself from underneath Jans’ grasp, his neck sore but his face bright with elation. 

“I'm surprised you guys are so ecstatic.” beamed Roger. “Aren’t you disappointed we didn’t get the win?”

“We took the match from 5-1 to 5-5, and you played a great game. Look on the bright side Roger.” Maaravi told him. Roger rubbed his chin in contemplation. The more he thought about it, the more that feeling of elation built up within him more and more. The bright side was sweet to him. 

“Thank God! I thought we were going to lose our unbeaten streak!” exclaimed Zack with relief. “Now we get to continue it and we owe it all to our new left sprinter.”

“Yeah! Fuck Darius!” laughed Jonas.

Zack planted both hands on either side of Roger's shoulder and shaked him from side to side as the other members of the team jumped around him like school children. Roger could only muster a closed-mouth smile, slightly embarrassed by all the praise. Blunt took centre stage and cleared his throat to speak. 

“We also owe it us finally considering the fundamentals as a crucial part of our ga-”

All the players groaned as he went on another rant about the importance of holding onto the basics of Vincball. 

As the players continued to celebrate, Roger noticed Chelsea at the exit door. She gestured at him to come over now, to which he obliged. 

“I see you used that second half wisely.” she said. “Good job.”

“Thanks, the boys worked really hard for it. I'm glad I was able to pull it all together.”

“You missed it when you came in here to sulk but they are giving you an award for the kick goal on your debut.” Chelsea informed him. “Coach is singing your praises to the reporters on camera as we speak.”

Roger thought that he could not smile any harder than he already was, but Chelsea had proved him wrong. He put his hands on his head, overwhelmed by all the positive news.

“I must be dreaming. This is all too good to be true.”

 “And to think all of this came from rescheduling.” Chelsea commented. She adjusted the frames of her glasses as she tried her best to stifle a laugh. Roger looked at her with more suspicion. 

“How did-”

“I’ll see you later.” Chelsea interrupted him, leaving the room again without providing answers. Roger attempted to follow her to find out more answers but was pulled back into celebrations by Zack and others. 

Roger quickly forgot about whatever Chelsea might have been hiding as he enjoyed the constant wave of weirdly aggressive positive affirmation . Right then and there, all he could think about was how happy Vincball was making him again. 

You can find story with these keywords: Vincball, Read Vincball, Vincball novel, Vincball book, Vincball story, Vincball full, Vincball Latest Chapter