Dream Team

By Troim Kryzl

Episode 4 of the 1kYears Series is the first to take the reader deep into the virtual resort. It offers glimpses into the lives of some interesting new characters: eKele, the virtual alter ego of a Ginerian Premier League football player stranded in what feels like a retirement home amid personal tragedy, and eFatma, a lady fighting really long odds to make her dream come true.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Troim Kryzl
• Release date: Mar 17, 2018
• ISBN: 9781370382545

Troim Kryzl

Not providing a photograph and writing under a pen name for professional reasons. Please refer to my website and LinkedIn profile for as many details as can be made available under my current career circumstances.Mastodon: @[e-mail]

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Dream Team

Published by Troim Kryzl at Smashwords

Copyright 2018 Troim Kryzl

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.

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„Wow. That’s two different tricks, right? And the traffic cones stand in for the other players, right? That’s amazing. I need to learn how to do that. You’re going to teach me, OK? Me, it‘s eSam, by the way. Very pleased to meet you... Sorry. I do know you. Seen you play, on TV. You’re famous. Sorry for not recalling your name. My originator, he‘s lousy at names..."

„... oh please do let me guess, honorable eSam? Your name is spelled with a minor case ‘e’ and an upper case ‘S’? Your originator‘s name is Sam? This even more honorable Sam is filthy rich?And he thinks it’s his birthright, to interfere with any black person’s business? And he hasn‘t got the faintest, of football? Right so far, honorable eSam? Then please do me the *beep* favor to move your *beep* white ass to *beep* someplace else. Otherwise, I have to *beep* teach you about tackles. Dangerous, really *beep* dangerous, tackles..."

eKele aspires to nothing more extravagant than being left alone. Just him. And his ball, to help him think. He’s in no mood for celeb stalkers. Standing at a tall 1.95 m, he also expects to easily send this one packing. Doesn’t get to finish his sentence instead.

This is one compact oldie. And fast. Had been moving closer, unimpressed by the admonition. With a smile on his face. The asking for it kind of smile. On ‘dangerous’, the stalker jumps at him. Just like that. As if he wasn’t a full head shorter. Jumps at him. Rams him off his feet. He gets turned around. Everything feels wrong. Keeps happening anyway.

eKele ends up on his belly, his left arm twisted behind his back. And that meatpack on top.

eKele knows he’ll kill the sucker. As soon as he manages to break free. One full force kick to the head, that will do it. If only he could move, without dislocating his shoulder. Instead, he’s chin on green, and forced to listen to this mock friendly reprimand from up behind:

"Oh come on, soccer crack, ‘dangerous’? We both know this is the 1kYears resort. This place doesn’t do dangerous. I can break your neck. Or you can break my neck. Theoretically speaking. I think I no longer need to explain why this won’t happen. Unless I let you do it.

And what next? The one with the broken neck dies. And comes back no two minutes later. Then we can fight again. This is virtual, soccer crack. We can fight-die, fight-die and fight-die again for hours. Or days. Or weeks. Years, decades, whatever. We’re ghosts. We can fight and die as much as we want, the server switch won’t flip to off. We’ll only get locked up, for unsocial.

My originator, Sam indeed, he kind of owns this virtual playground. Means I know stuff. How this works. What doesn’t work. I suggest we skip the killing. All the time in the world. We can do it. But it’s boring. Hurts, too. Now I let you go, and we try polite, OK?"

eSam didn’t wait for a positive response to loosen his grip. Nor does eKele hesitate. Shakes off the stalker, throws himself around and at him. His turn in a chokehold, flat on the ground. eKele grabs eSam’s forehead from behind, pulling back his head.

To eKele’s surprise, his prey remains as slack as a sandbag. Doesn’t even tense his overstretched neck against the danger. When a creaking noise suggests something boneish is about to snap, eKele has to let eSam go. Frustrated, he shouts at his problem:

What the fuck? Are you mad? Some kind of weirdo, or what? I nearly broke your neck, man! You have to fight. That noise, just now, that was your fucking neck!

Free again, eSam rolls around, sits up and massages his neck, probing for damage. He quickly reverts back to grinning and goes: That’s it, soccer crack, we’re even. You called me weirdo, I already knocked you down, we’re even. Now, for the tricks...

eKele can’t help it. He’s starting to like this problem. The racist pig is fun. Weird and mad, but fun. No harm done, in talking. He can resume practicing his feints any time. Why not spare a minute to introduce this stupid white newbie to some football basics.

Sitting side by side on the artificial turf, they talk. It’s mostly eKele explaining and eSam listening. As it should be, when a pro does a newbie a favor.

Walking the turf with his left hand, his index and middle finger dribbling, eKele uses his right index to point out where the imaginary ball gets touched. Rivelino elastic. Scissors. Side step. Three tricks, not two. He has to demonstrate in ultraslow motion. A couple of times.

eSam finally gets it. Wants to try next. Mad, definitely. eKele has to explain, about basics and art. First, one has to master the basics. Really master. As in technique. The odd lucky getting it right won’t do. eSam accepts. Now wants to be taught dribbling, instead of feints.

eKele does him the favor. Just to demonstrate how hard a task they’re talking about.

eSam manages to walk with the ball. Even a slow trot. Under eKele’s guidance, he switches between forwarding