Rise of a Football God
Chapter 489 - 489: FIFA World Cup 2026 [20]

On this day, June 24th, 2026, Croatia, one of the biggest footballing nations in recent years with their best legend, Luka Modric became one of the first of the nations in the FIFA World Cup 2026 to be eliminated in the group stage.

By losing their first game to Nigeria and going on to draw against Canada, Croatia's hopes of making it to the knockout stage became as good as null.

It would take a miracle for them to make it at this point.

On that same day that one of the best footballing legends of the 21st century potentially bowed out of the FIFA World Cup 2026, another legend, a new one, just 20 years old made his final preparations to take to the pitch for his 2nd career FIFA World Cup game.

Sam prepared to take the FIFA World Cup stage the 2nd time for his country.

But earlier, a day before the D-day…

It was the Nigeria National Team Training Camp in Kansas City, USA.

The time was 5:45pm, a day before the fated match.

The sun dipped low over the training complex, casting long shadows across the perfectly trimmed pitch.

Cicadas hummed softly in the background, but the tension in the air drowned them out. This wasn't just another practice. It was the final session before Nigeria's crucial second group stage match against Saudi Arabia.

A cluster of players stood in a semi-circle around Coach Eric Chelle, who was barking final instructions in his unmistakable gravelly voice.

Yes, Nigeria was in a favorable condition compared to most other nations in their group.

After all, they won their first game, but to Eric Chelle, it didn't matter.

That was just 1 game. If they wanted to fulfill their crazy ambitions this tournament, they had to stay 100% at all times, physically and mentally, and it was the coach's duty to make sure that his players were at their best.

Behind him, the Nigerian flag flapped gently in the breeze.

Sweat gleamed on the foreheads of defenders and midfielders alike, but all eyes subtly drifted toward one man, Sam.

He stood at the edge of the circle, lacing up his custom gold-trimmed Nike boots, boots that had scored 77 goals just this season even before the FIFA World Cup started.

Boots that had silenced the Bernabeu and brought the Spotify Camp Nou to its feet, boots that performed in the biggest stages of the UEFA champions league, boots that pulled off miracles at the AFCON.

His aura wasn't arrogant, just heavy.

Heavy with expectation. With history. With the burden of a nation.

These days, his teammates rarely remembered his true age. Rather, all they saw was a maverick, a demon incarnate capable of singlehandedly winning games.

Sam had done it at the NPFL, the English Premier League, the Spanish La Liga, the UEFA Champions League, and now, he was already doing it at the World Cup.

Having won the man of the match award for Nigeria's first group stage game against Croatia, a game that he dominated, Sam's prestige in this team transcended from just respect to literal mythic.

"Sam," Coach Erich Chelle called, pausing and turning his gaze toward him. "Last time out, you did your job to perfection. I can't find faults in your game, but tomorrow, you'll need to be twice as sharp".

"Forget that it's Saudi Arabia. They'll target you. They'll build a wall around you".

It was clear that Croatia underestimated Sam's influence, and they paid for their negligence dearly. But Eric Chelle doubted that Saudi Arabia would make the same mistake; this was why he felt the need to warn his star striker.

Sam nodded slightly, wiping sweat from his brow, his expression unreadable. Calm. Focused.

He didn't need to speak. His silence was thunder, unshakable will and focus.

The training continued. The team split up. Sam jogged over to the far end of the pitch, where the Assistant Coach had set up a custom drill for him.

Two defenders, a goalkeeper, and a swarm of cones lined the path from midfield to goal.

Sam's task? Break through, beat the press, finish.

His first run was clean. A quick feint, one-touch past the center-back, a subtle flick of the ball, and then… BOOM! Top right corner.

His second run was tighter. The defenders got physical.

Sam spun between them, caught the ball behind him, and volleyed it while falling; still on target, still a goal.

By the fifth run, teammates paused their own drills to watch.

Even the assistant kitman stopped, folding bibs to mutter. "This boy's a demon with the ball". He could not help the grin creeping up his face.

From Day 1 since arriving in USA for the FIFA World Cup, this was the level that Sam trained at, all his focus already honed in on the FIFA World Cup, the biggest tournament he could ever play on in his career.

Sam was ready to lose himself like Eminem; he was ready to steal the shine.

After warm-downs, Coach Eric Chelle gathered everyone mid-pitch.

"This isn't just about tactics, it's pride," he began. "Saudi Arabia will come out strong. We respect them. But we don't fear them".

He turned again to Sam.

"You're not just our striker. You're our symbol. But remember, you're not alone. Don't play selfishly".

"You draw fire, others will move. Trust them; trust your teammates. Lead them". He looked straight at him. "Finish them".

Sam finally spoke, voice low but firm with confidence. "They mark me, we score. They leave me, I score. Either way, we win".

His teammates grinned, the team roaring in approval. Fists bumped.

The sun had now vanished, but under the floodlights, their eyes burned brighter than ever.

…

Dozens of minutes later…

As the others trickled off to the locker room, Sam stayed behind. He stood at the penalty spot, staring at the empty goal. One ball left.

He ran up, struck it clean, no theatrics. Just pure precision. The net rippled.

He whispered under his breath. "For Nigeria".

Then he turned, and walked into the tunnel; calm, focused, ready to become a legend.

…

Back to present…

(GROUP E:)

(Saudi Arabia vs Nigeria)

(Venue: Estadio Monterrey, Mexico)

(Date: June 24th, 2026)

(Time: 20:00)

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