The Greatest of all Time

Wednesday, May 1, 2013.

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It was half-past four in the evening, only an hour and a half to the start of the Norwegian Football Cup second-round game between Rosenborg BK and Strindheim IL.

Zachary stood among the other Rosenborg players in the Lerkendal Idresspark parking lot, waiting to board the bus to Ruta Arena—the home ground of Strindheim Idrettslag. Like the rest of his teammates, he was clad in a full all-black designer suit and sleek, gentle shoes—looking like he was heading to a classy wedding dinner rather than a football game.

He didn't like the stuffy attire in the slightest. He preferred casual wear much more. However, he had still readily donned it since it was the sporting director's mandate for every player to be in their suits before the game. Wearing the outfit was a small price to pay to participate in the match. In his previous life, he would have even put on a dress if it could have guaranteed him a spot among the regulars of a pro football team in Europe.

Two days had passed since Zachary first learned he would be in the starting line-up for the next Rosenborg fixture. However, he still felt like he was walking on clouds.

He couldn't help it. He was very excited to play his debut game as a professional footballer in Europe.

Filled with anticipation and jitters, he didn't want to talk much. Instead, he kept on checking his backpack—the boots and their studs, check; the shin guards, check; the ankle guards—

Bzzt Bzzzt! Bzzt Bzzzt!

His phone vibrated while he was still rummaging through the contents of the bag. He fished it out of the side pocket of his coat and glanced at the screen. It was his grandma calling. So, he pressed the accept button right away.

"Habari, bibi," he said, placing the phone next to his ear.

"Hello, Zachary," she replied in the same Swahili language. "How are you?"

"I'm okay, grandma," Zachary replied humbly. "Didn't we talk the day before yesterday? Why are you calling now when I already informed you that I would be playing a match today?" He was so used to his grandma that words came out naturally without needing to think much. With her, he didn't need to put up his guard and could easily express himself without any worries.

"Can't I 'simply' call to say hello to my grandson?" She asked, her voice rising slightly. "Are you starting to feel sweet because you no longer live here with me? The next time I see you, I'll pull those ears of yours." She added jokingly.

"Don't say that, grandma," he said, taking a casual glance around him. He noticed that some of his teammates had already cast curious glances towards him since he was speaking a very exotic language. So, he walked a few steps away from the rest before speaking into the phone once again. "Grandma, no more joking around. We'll be starting the match soon. Can we talk later?"

"Yes, we can talk later," she replied, her tone softening. "I only called to wish you luck in your game. But now that you're doing well in Europe, always remember to remain humble. That way, you'll continue to progress in your career. And please remember to pray before the game."

"Thank you, grandma," Zachary replied, smiling ruefully. "I'll do that." He couldn't remember the last time he engaged in any praying. But to assure his grandma and keep her from worrying, he answered positively.

"But Zachary," his grandma continued, her voice becoming more solemn. "When are you planning to come back and visit us? You know that it has already been more than two years since you left."

"Why are you asking me this once again? Didn't I already promise that I would be returning at the beginning of June? That's the only time when I'll get a few days off from the team."

"Fine," she said, her voice softening once again. "I hope you keep your promise. I'll be waiting for you next month. So, don't disappoint me."

"Okay, grandma," Zachary said humbly. "But, I've to go now. My match will be starting soon."

"Just a moment. One more thing, Zachary."

"Yes, grandma," Zachary replied after taking a cursory glance around the parking lot and noticing that his teammates were yet to begin boarding the bus.

"Are you still studying?"

"Grandma, as I previously informed you, I've already finished secondary school. So, I've decided to take a break and concentrate on my training at the moment. You know that I have to stay focused if I wish to stay on the team. So, I can't be doing too many things at once. But, I'll apply for university in about a year or two. So, don't worry, grandma."

"I've heard that you can choose to study in the evening when you're at university. Why can't you apply for such a course then? That way, you can play your football and study at the same time."

"Grandma," Zachary said pleadingly. "Can we talk about this later? My match is really about to begin. Okay, grandma?"

"Okay, Zachary. May the Lord give you many blessings. I wish you the best in your match. Bye."

"Bye. I'll also be sending you some more airtime at the end of the week. If anything else comes up, you can talk to Coach Damata."

"Okay, but try to save part of your money. Don't keep sending money to me. I'm doing well here."

"Okay, grandma, Bye. Have a good day." Zachary sighed, ending the call. Over the past half a year, his grandma had been calling nearly every week, asking him when he would be returning to DR Congo to visit her. However, Zachary had always been training, trying to improve his skills as fast as possible. He hadn't even returned home a single time since his arrival in Norway. He felt guilty whenever he talked to his grandma because of that.

For school, he had followed Kristin's advice and applied for the German and Spanish language courses. But he hadn't mentioned that to his grandma at that moment. Otherwise, she would have spent more than thirty minutes grilling him on the details of his education.

He was having none of that since the bus would be departing soon. But still, talking to his grandma had calmed his mind. He no longer felt jittery and was already in the best state of mind to do his best in the game. He felt even more eager to begin the match.

"Okay, guys, it's time," yelled Trond Henriksen, the Rosenborg assistant head coach. "Let's board the bus right away. We don't want to be late." He added, clapping his hands.

On hearing the coach yelling, all the players, including Zachary, stopped whatever they were doing and made a beeline for the bus. They looked imposing as they moved towards the bus in their well-cut black suits. Most of them were conversing among themselves in small groups. On the other hand, the technical staff, including the coaches and the medics, had donned their jackets over simple Rosenborg tracksuits. They were the last to board the bus after all the eighteen players on the match squad had taken their seats.

A few minutes later, the bus took off and quickly got on the E6 highway, heading towards ?stbyen. It was one of the Trondheim neighborhoods located just 4.9 kilometers away from Lerkendal. The region was home to Strindheim Idrettslag—the club Rosenborg would be facing in the second round of the Norwegian Cup at 6:00 PM later that day.

Zachary sat at the back together with Fredrik Midtsj? and Nicki Nielson. But he didn't engage in any conversation with them. Instead, he concentrated on listening to his music while watching the fleeting scenery outside, through the bus window.

He could feel the bus wheels rolling over the road, following the curves and smoothly greeting each slope. Soon, it rounded a corner and entered a neighborhood dominated by a natural green. As Zachary gazed absentmindedly out of the window, beyond the road—across the horizon, he felt that it was a beautiful day—the best for his debut game on the Rosenborg first team. Although it was still spring, the Trondheim roads shimmered in the glow of the evening sun. The sunlight had conjured the most brilliant mosaics, reflecting from each leaf and wisp of cloud. There was a promise of good weather that evening. Zachary couldn't have wished for better conditions to play his debut game.

Fifteen minutes later, the Rosenborg bus pulled into the parking lot of the Ruta Arena. Zachary followed the rest of his teammates as they alighted from the bus—and a minute later, he stood before the stadium where he would play his debut game. He felt excited as he watched the fans and the few journalists struggling to get close to the bus.

He had finally made it into the squad of a top team in Norway. If he played well, he would also be signing autographs like the rest of his teammates within a month. He couldn't think of a time he had ever been happier. He hadn't even felt such emotion even while lifting the Riga and the Norwegian Youth cups. He smiled softly, letting quiet contentment spread through him.

He started observing his surroundings, his gaze roaming across the stands holding a few early fans that had already taken their seats. The stadium was a small one, probably with a capacity of fewer than 3000 seats, by his estimation. He couldn't help but wonder whether Kasongo and his former teammates had come to watch his debut game. But from where he stood, he couldn't make out the faces of any of the spectators.

Meanwhile, he noticed that the security personnel had started clearing away the fans and journalists crowding around the bus. The fans, in particular, seemed particularly enthusiastic to get close to the players. They disregarded the security personnel and tried their best to get autographs from the star players like Mikael Dorsin and Mix Diskerud.

Zachary could understand why. Rosenborg was a giant in Norwegian football. Everywhere the Rosenborg players went, they received a lot of attention from both the media and fans alike. That was even more so in Trondheim—the home city of the club. They were superstars.

So, despite Ruta Arena being the home ground for Strindheim, there were a lot of Rosenborg fans that had still come to spectate the game. After all, it was only a 10-to-15-minute drive from Lerkendal.

"Guys," Coach Johansen shouted after the security personnel had cleared the way into the stadium. "Let's head to the dressing room and change into our warm-up kits as soon as possible. We only have slightly over an hour before the game. So, be quick." He added, leading the way. The players followed after him.

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