5: Chapter 5 Within three years, my curveball will become the hallmark of White Hart Lane.

"Hey, kid."

Kieran McKenna rushed onto the pitch in a few strides, grass clippings clinging to his training shoes. He stopped in front of Yu Bai, his gaze burning: "That Passing just now... did you mean to do that?"

He actually had the answer in his heart. There was only one teammate wearing a yellow vest in the front court; it could not have been a spur-of-the-moment attempt at a lob. But he asked anyway, because the arc, the landing spot, and the timing of that kick, combined together, exuded a counter-intuitive precision, as if it had been drawn on the turf with a compass. This was not common, at least not at the U18 level.

Dylan Duncan, not far away, scoffed out loud; the sound was not loud, but it was harsh enough.

"Do you even need to ask, Coach McKenna?"

He crossed his arms, his mouth curling downward: "It was obviously a fluke. If he really had that kind of footwork, would Arsenal have let him go?"

He turned to Yu Bai, his eyebrows arched in an exaggerated curve: "Am I right, Yu Bai?"

The flicker of hope that had just ignited in Coach McKenna's eyes dimmed almost imperceptibly. Dylan Duncan's words were harsh, but they held truth. In the football business, real gold is rarely let go easily. Those people at Arsenal are not blind.

Yu Bai watched the flash of hesitation on Coach McKenna's face and ignored Dylan Duncan. He met the coach's gaze and spoke suddenly, his voice not loud, but clear:

"Coach McKenna, want to make a bet?"

Coach McKenna was stunned, then laughed: "A bet? Bet on what?"

"Within three years," Yu Bai said, his speaking pace steady, as if stating an established fact, "my curling shot will become the calling card of White Hart Lane."

As his words fell, there was a momentary silence on the sidelines.

Coach McKenna's expression froze on his face, a mix of surprise and the absurdity of 'is this kid crazy.' The assistant coach next to him opened his mouth. But Dylan Duncan's reaction was the most direct; he was stunned at first, then burst into earth-shattering laughter, laughing so hard he swayed back and forth, eventually clutching his stomach and falling onto the grass.

"Ha, haha... calling, calling card?"

He laughed until he was out of breath, pointing at Yu Bai, tears almost coming out: "Yu Bai said his curling shot... is going to be the calling card of White Hart Lane! Did you guys hear that? Oh my god... hahaha!"

His laughter echoed across the empty training field, filled with undisguised mockery.

Youth Academy Director John McDermott did not know when he had walked over. He stood beside Coach McKenna with his hands in his training suit pockets, his gaze lingering on Yu Bai's face for a few seconds. There was no mockery in that look, more of a scrutiny, along with a faint, playful look that belonged to someone who had seen it all.

"I would be very happy to see that day, kid."

John McDermott spoke, his voice steady, "I truly hope so. I just hope... this is not just the rash arrogance of a young person who does not know how high the sky is."

"It is a bet."

Coach McKenna snapped back to reality, the corners of his mouth curling into a smile that was somewhere between annoyed and amused: "What is the wager? It cannot just be an empty check."

Yu Bai's face had no exaggerated expression; he kept that calm appearance, perhaps even a bit too serious.

"If I win, you just need to mention this bet today to the players you manage in the future."

He said, "No need to embellish it, just tell it like it is."

Coach McKenna was choked up by his words and laughed in anger: "What, hearing you say that, do you think you have already won?"

"Count me in too."

John McDermott suddenly slapped his thigh and joined in, a look of amusement on his face as if watching a show: "Kid, I will bet with you too. I have been a Youth Academy Director longer than Kieran McKenna, and I have coached more kids than him. If you can really do it, I will promote you."

"Deal."

Yu Bai nodded, accepting all comers.

Arrogant? A little. But that sense of certainty shining through his eyes made it hard to hate him; instead, it made one feel... curious. Curious about where he got this confidence.

Coach McKenna and John McDermott shook their heads and walked back to the sidelines, whispering to each other, probably recalling the last time such a "crazy" kid appeared in the youth camp.

On the field, the match between the Yellow Team and the Blue Team continued.

Ryotaro Araki had the ball in midfield. He saw Yu Bai actively pressing forward, and his sense of defiance flared up again. That Passing just now was beautiful, but defense? He did not think this technical attacking midfielder could pose any threat to him. He nudged the ball with his feet, preparing to make a simple change of direction to dribble past.

But Yu Bai's foot speed was much faster and much fiercer than he expected. It was not a cautious interception, but a decisive sliding tackle that hugged the turf. The studs flashed a cold light in the sunlight.

Ryotaro Araki was shocked and tried to jump away, but it was too late. Yu Bai's foot accurately poked the ball away from between his legs and incidentally scraped his ankle. It was not heavy, but enough to make him lose his balance and stumble two steps.

"Hey!" Ryotaro Araki steadied his body and raised his hand to look at the assistant coach—the guest referee.

The referee held his hands out flat, signaling for play to continue. No foul, a clean and crisp tackle.

Ryotaro Araki lowered his hand with an ugly expression. The ball was already at Dylan Duncan's feet.

Dylan Duncan also did not expect Yu Bai to be able to steal the ball from Ryotaro Araki, so he was stunned for a moment, but his body reacted faster than his brain; with a flick of his ankle, he passed the ball to the Scottish tall center forward who was leaning against the defender near the center circle. The Yellow Team's counterattack started instantly.

After a few quick passes, the ball moved to the right wing. The right back received the ball and looked up to observe; the Blue Team's defense was already in position, and there were no obvious gaps. He hesitated slightly.

Yu Bai quickly cut in from the flank to support, receiving the pass at the corner of the right penalty area.

The moment he received the ball, Ryotaro Araki had already tracked back into position, blocking his route to cut inside, his eyes fierce and carrying some of the anger from being tackled earlier. The Blue Team's left back also quickly closed in, sealing his route to the byline.

Two-on-one. In everyone's eyes, the most reasonable choice for Yu Bai was to pass back or try a wall-pass with a teammate. Force a breakthrough? The success rate was too low.

But after Yu Bai received the ball, there was almost no pause.

He feinted with his left foot, making a fake move to nudge the ball inward, causing Ryotaro Araki's center of gravity to shift slightly to the left. At that very instant, he used the outside of his right foot to suddenly nudge the ball toward the byline!

Acceleration! The explosive power of the first step was beyond Ryotaro Araki's expectations; he hurriedly moved laterally to follow. The Blue Team's left back also turned immediately.

But Yu Bai's second step was not to continue accelerating, but an abrupt, sudden brake without any warning! His body's center of gravity was forced to stay in place.

Ryotaro Araki, who was tracking back at full speed, did not expect this at all and slammed solidly into the left back who had braked suddenly in front of him. Both of them screamed as they fell into a tangle, rolling into a heap on the turf.

Yu Bai did not even look at the two who had fallen; he smoothly dribbled past them and charged with the ball toward the penalty area!

"Pass! Why are you not Passing at this moment?!"

Coach McKenna stood up abruptly on the sidelines, waving his hands anxiously, "Are you f*cking trying to dribble the ball directly into the goal?!"

The penalty area was in chaos. The Blue Team's center back and the defensive midfielder who came to cover formed a hasty encirclement, three pairs of feet trying to close the door.

But Yu Bai was like a slippery loach. In the tiny space, he pulled with his left foot and tapped with his right, his body twisting strangely with the ball, moving with an incredible, almost dance-like rhythm, squeezing hard through the narrow gap between the two! The ball seemed glued to his feet, always controlled within a half-meter radius.

Entering the small penalty area! The Blue Team goalkeeper had already abandoned the goal and charged out, spreading his arms to expand his blocking area as much as possible.

Everyone thought Yu Bai would continue to dribble or force a Shooting. The goalkeeper judged the same, and he had already sealed the near post.

But Yu Bai did not even look up; at the very last moment before the goalkeeper dived in front of him, he used the instep of his right foot to push the ball seemingly casually.

It was not a Shooting. It was a light, horizontal pass that hugged the turf.

The ball slid past the goalkeeper's extended foot and rolled toward the only open space near the right flank of the small penalty area.

A yellow figure rushed up at full speed; it was Dylan Duncan, who had been annoyed just moments ago. He charged to this position purely on instinct, and looking at the ball that suddenly rolled to his feet, he did not even have time to think, subconsciously extending his foot to poke it!

The ball changed direction and rolled into the empty net.

Dylan Duncan stood in place, watching the ball shaking at the bottom of the net, then looked at his own feet, his expression blank. WTF? I scored? This ball... it just went in like that?

On the sidelines, Coach McKenna stood with his mouth open, unable to close it for a long time.

"...Holy shit!"

He muttered, then slammed a fist into his palm, his face exploding with ecstatic joy, "This kid! I f*cking love him!"

John McDermott also forgot his image, rubbing his face vigorously as if to confirm it was not a hallucination: "This is practically a crime! What is his name? Say it again!"

The assistant coach next to him had not recovered from the series of images just now and answered stammeringly: "Yu, Yu Bai."

"Yu Bai."

John McDermott repeated it, then turned to Coach McKenna, his eyes shining, "Kieran McKenna, I have remembered him. If this kid does not make it, it is definitely your problem as the head coach."

"Does not make it?"

Coach McKenna looked at the pitch, at the figure surrounded by several Yellow Team teammates, with a clean smile and a bit of youthful pride, and he smiled too, smiling with determination, "Impossible. John McDermott, you know me. Tomorrow against Brighton U18, Yu Bai starts. You will be there, right?"

"Of course."

John McDermott did not hesitate, then smacked his lips with some regret, "It is a pity, the first team has to go to Old Trafford tomorrow. Otherwise, I would really want to drag Mauricio Pochettino over to see him; he would definitely like this kid."

"Who is to say otherwise."

On the pitch, the Blue Team side was already arguing. The goalkeeper pointed at Ryotaro Araki and the left back who were struggling to climb up, his face red with anger, loudly complaining about defensive lapses. The left back was full of grievances; he had clearly stuck to his man, who could have expected a rear-end collision from behind? Ryotaro Araki was even more unable to express his bitterness; could he have helped Yu Bai? Hell no! He just did not expect the opponent to come to an emergency stop at that speed, and he could not brake in time...

...

"What? You are starting tomorrow?!"

At the dinner table, David Unsworth's voice suddenly went up an octave, and the sausage on his fork almost fell back into his plate.

He stared at Yu Bai with wide eyes: "The U18 starting attacking midfielder, Sam Sassua, is he injured?"

Yu Bai held back a laugh and shook his head, cutting the potatoes on his plate: "I do not know. Coach McKenna, when he read the starting lineup, he did not read his name."

Susan immediately clasped her hands together, a big smile blooming on her face: "That is great! Let us have a barbecue tomorrow night! Let us call Michael and Chloe back, and we will celebrate for Bai together!"

Yu Bai felt a bit embarrassed: "Mrs. Susan, this... this is not good, right? The match has not been played yet."

"What is not good about it!"

Grandma Margaret, who had been dining quietly, tapped the edge of her plate gently with her fork, delivering the final verdict: "It is settled. Celebrating you getting the starting spot, this is a good start."

Yu Bai looked at the three faces across the dining table overflowing with sincere joy and expectation, the warm, soft taste of mashed potatoes melting in his mouth, warming him all the way to his stomach. He lowered his head, blinked quickly, and pressed down that sudden surge of sour heat.

Before, he always felt that his desire to win in football was too strong, like a firecracker that would ignite at a touch. Now, however, he felt that that bit of desire to win was far from enough.

Tomorrow. He gripped the fork in his hand tightly.

Tomorrow, he must win. Win cleanly, win beautifully. He wanted to make the celebratory barbecue that Mrs. Susan was organizing happen with justification, and make it lively and vibrant.