Pino stands near the edge, his sneakers scuffed and jersey a size too large, watching as team captains call names with practiced certainty. In the fading sunlight, he waits, knowing what’s coming.
"You go last," one of the captains declares, his voice casual but final. The others give only a passing glance, and Pino nods silently, taking his place.
Pino[/@ch_1], swift and relentless. The other kids race ahead, weaving and shouting, their movements fluid, while he lingers near the back, always ready but rarely called upon. The sky deepens to navy, and the field glows under the streetlights, casting long shadows.]
He runs, chases, always present but never the star. He isn’t the fastest. Not the strongest. Just… always there. Still, he plays with quiet persistence, believing in the rhythm of the game and in himself, even as the others overlook him.
Pino watches as the selection stutters. Suddenly, he hears his name called early, the surprise flickering in his chest.
"We need you, Pino," the captain says, a hint of urgency in his tone. For the first time, Pino steps onto the field not as an afterthought, but as a vital part.
The ball flies from one side to the other, defenders pressing, attackers scrambling. Suddenly, the ball rolls to Pino. The world narrows to the moment, the goalpost looming, the cheers subdued in anticipation.
Pino[/@ch_1] kicks. The ball arcs through the air, a blur in the glow of the lights, and strikes the net with a satisfying thud. Silence hangs for a breath, then erupts into shouts and laughter.]
Teammates rush forward, arms lifted, faces bright with excitement. Someone grabs Pino by the shoulders, shaking him in celebration.
"Pino! You did it! That was incredible!" echoes around him, his name ringing out for the first time, not as an afterthought but as a hero.
Pino[/@ch_1] lingers, the memory of cheers still warming his heart. Stars blink overhead, the grass cool beneath his feet, and the echoes of belief linger.]
He smiles, remembering how he never stopped believing, even when nobody else did. The lights dim, but his quiet faith glows brighter than ever—on this ground, among these players, his name finally remembered.
