Chapter 6 - The Son Who Had Everything
Noah Sterling hated penalty kicks.
That surprised Eli.
Noah lived in a mansion with an indoor pool, had a private trainer twice a week, and owned six pairs of boots.
But put him twelve yards from goal with everyone watching, and his knees shook.
“I can’t breathe,” Noah said during practice.
“Yes, you can.”
“No, I literally can’t.”
“You’re talking.”
“That’s different.”
Eli placed the ball on the penalty spot.
“No goalkeeper.”
“That makes it worse.”
“How?”
“If I miss, I can’t blame anyone.”
Eli stared at him.
Noah immediately understood.
“Yeah. I heard it.”
“Heard what?”
“How pathetic that sounded.”
Eli smiled.
“Pick a corner.”
Noah chose left.
“Now don’t change your mind.”
“What if I know I’m going to miss?”
“You don’t know.”
“I usually know.”
“You think you know. That’s different.”
Noah ran up and hit the post.
He covered his face.
“See?”
Eli retrieved the ball.
“Again.”
They stayed after training for forty minutes.
Noah missed six.
Scored four.
Then five in a row.
On the sixth, Victor appeared beside the field.
Noah immediately changed.
His shoulders tightened.
His breathing shortened.
He missed badly.
Victor’s face hardened.
“That is embarrassing.”
Noah stared at the grass.
Eli said, “He made five before you came.”
Victor looked at him.
“I wasn’t speaking to you.”
Eli went quiet.
Victor walked onto the field.
“Noah, your body opens before contact. Every goalkeeper can read you.”
“I’m working on it.”
“You’ve been working on it for three years.”
Noah flinched.
Victor kicked the ball toward him.
“Again.”
Noah shot.
Wide.
“Again.”
Another miss.
Victor laughed once.
Not because anything was funny.
“You have every advantage.”
Noah’s eyes filled.
“Dad—”
“Every advantage. Coaching. Nutrition. Facilities. Opportunity. And that boy—”
He pointed at Eli.
“—learned outside bars and still sees the game better than you.”
Eli felt sick.
Victor was using him like a weapon.
“Don’t,” Eli said.
Victor turned.
“What?”
“Don’t compare us.”
“Why not?”
“Because it doesn’t help him.”
Victor’s eyes narrowed.
“You’re becoming very comfortable speaking to adults.”
Coach Hayes approached from the far side of the pitch.
Victor walked away before he arrived.
Noah sat on the grass.
Eli dropped beside him.
For a while neither spoke.
Then Noah said, “I don’t even like soccer that much.”
Eli thought he was joking.
Noah was crying.
“My dad does.”
“That’s different.”
“He says it’s in my blood.”
Eli looked at the goal.
“What do you like?”
“Drawing.”
Eli blinked.
“Drawing?”
“Buildings. Stadiums. Houses. I like architecture.”
“You’re terrible at soccer because you want to draw houses?”
Noah laughed through his tears.
“I’m not terrible.”
“You were when I met you.”
“Shut up.”
They both laughed.
It was the first time Noah admitted the truth to anyone.
Their friendship changed after that.
Eli stopped trying to turn Noah into a star.
He tried to make him comfortable being himself.
Ironically, Noah began playing better.
Without the pressure to impress Victor, he made simple passes, worked hard defensively, and became reliable.
Eli also discovered something important about teammates: confidence did not come from shouting “believe in yourself.”
It came from giving someone a job they could actually do.
Instead of telling Noah to create goals, Eli told him to receive, protect the ball, and connect passes.
“Three touches max,” Eli said during one exercise.
“What if I need four?”
“Then your first three were bad.”
“That’s rude.”
“It’s also true.”
Noah improved.
His first touch became cleaner.
His defensive positioning sharpened.
He began enjoying the game because he was no longer pretending to be Victor Sterling.
Coach Hayes noticed.
“Funny thing,” he told Eli. “Players get better when they stop performing someone else’s idea of them.”
The media did not see that.
Victor made sure they saw something else.
At the summer invitational, Westbridge beat Capital Youth 4–1.
Eli scored twice and assisted twice.
Noah played well but did not score.
The next morning, Sterling Athletic Group posted a highlight reel titled: NOAH STERLING LEADS WESTBRIDGE TO DOMINANT WIN.
Eli watched it on Coach Hayes’s phone.
Most of his best moments were cut out.
Noah looked horrified.
“I didn’t know.”
“I know.”
“I can tell him to take it down.”
“He won’t.”
Noah went anyway.
An hour later he returned angry.
“He said brands need narratives.”
Eli laughed bitterly. “What does that mean?”
“He said people already expect you to be good because you’re ‘the poor prodigy.’ He wants me to have a story too.”
“What story?”
“The son carrying on the Sterling legacy.”
Eli shook his head.
“You don’t even want it.”
“I know.”
That afternoon Victor summoned Eli to his office.
It was the first time Eli saw Sterling Athletic Group headquarters.
Glass walls.
Signed jerseys.
Photographs of Victor shaking hands with club owners.
Victor poured water into two glasses.
“I hear Noah complained to you.”
“He didn’t complain.”
“Good. Loyalty matters.”
Eli stayed standing.
Victor slid a document across the desk.
“What is it?”
“Development agreement.”
“I already have a scholarship.”
“This is different.”
The paper had too many words.
Eli recognized his own name.
His father’s.
Sterling Athletic Group.
“What does it do?”
“Protects your future.”
“How?”
“We represent you exclusively when you become eligible for professional contracts.”
“For how long?”
Victor smiled.
“You’re learning.”
“How long?”
“Ten years.”
Eli stared.
“I’m thirteen.”
“Exactly why you need adults thinking long term.”
“Coach Hayes said—”
Victor’s smile disappeared.
“Coach Hayes coaches soccer.”
“He said I should read everything.”
“Can you?”
Eli looked down.
The words blurred.
Some he understood.
Many he did not.
Victor leaned back.
“I pulled you out of an alley. Remember that before you start imagining everyone has equal opinions.”
The sentence hit harder than Eli expected.
“I wasn’t in an alley when you found me.”
Victor raised an eyebrow.
“I was on your field.”
Silence.
Victor slowly smiled again.
“There’s the confidence.”
He pushed the contract closer.
“Take it home. Your father will sign.”
Eli did not touch it.
“What if I don’t?”
Victor’s voice remained calm.
“Then I stop investing.”
Eli looked at the signed jerseys on the walls.
His boots.
Meals.
Transportation.
Tournament hotels.
Medical exams.
He had thought those things were gifts.
Now he understood.
They were receipts.
On the drive home, Eli opened his notebook and wrote a new question beneath his training notes.
WHAT DOES HELP COST?
He stared at it for a long time.
Then added another.
IF THE PRICE IS YOUR CHOICE, IS IT STILL HELP?
May you like
He did not know the answer yet.
But the questions themselves were proof he was changing.
