The Next Big Thing
Chapter 102: Bench Talks

Chapter 102: Bench Talks

David sank into the bench, still riding the high of being part of the matchday squad. His heart pounded with excitement, and a wide grin was plastered across his face. He sat near Odion Ighalo, Eric Bailly, Mason Greenwood, and Juan Mata, barely able to contain himself. His good foot tapped eagerly against the floor, and every now and then, he caught himself practically bouncing in place.

The second half kicked off with intensity. Manchester City came out with an aggressive press, pushing high up the pitch and flooding United’s half with waves of attacks. Without the usual roar of the Old Trafford faithful, the eerie silence of the empty stadium made every kick, every shout, and every tackle echo through the stands. On the touchline, Ole Gunnar Solskjær stood with arms crossed, tension evident in his stance. His eyes darted across the field, following every move as City continued their relentless push forward.

David clenched his fists, watching as United struggled to keep possession. Every clearance felt like a temporary reprieve, and every time City’s attackers surged forward, his stomach twisted with unease. He wanted to say something, anything, but his throat felt tight. He had never been this close to the action before without him being part of the action—he was seeing his dream play out in front of him, yet helpless to do anything about it.

"Wow, kid, you must really like United," came a voice beside him. The thick Nigerian accent was unmistakable.

David turned to see Ighalo smirking at him."Yeah, they’re my club," David said, his eyes shining with passion. "My dad got me into supporting them, but honestly, even without him, this would still be my team. There’s just something special about United."Ighalo let out a low whistle. "Wow, that’s serious love. Look at you—you’re all in," he said with a laugh.David nodded firmly. "Of course. Don’t you love them too? Isn’t that why you’re here?"Ighalo chuckled. "Yeah, man, United have always been my favorite team. That’s why I came here. But let’s be real—it’s also about the money."David’s head snapped toward him. "Excuse me?"

Ighalo laughed at his reaction. "What, kid? I’m just saying how it is. The pay is why I’m here. Yeah, it’s fun playing here and all—I’ve liked United ever since I was small. That’s mostly why I came here. But if the pay wasn’t good, I wouldn’t have come. Thank God my parent club is also paying me."

David frowned. "What parent club?"

"Shanghai Shenhua."

David blinked. "What? The Chinese league?"

Ighalo burst into laughter at the disbelief in David’s tone. "Yes, kid. Don’t judge. If you knew how much they pay there..."

David shook his head. "It’s more than the money."

Ighalo nudged him playfully. "See this kid." He then leaned back with a knowing smile. "Well, if you were born where I was, you’d know—it’s always about the money."

David hesitated, then asked, "Isn’t it Nigeria?"

Ighalo gave him a sharp look. "Ehn?"

David exhaled. "I’m also Nigerian."

Ighalo’s eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise. "What? Really?" He studied David’s face for a moment, then muttered, "You resemble a Yoruba boy those pretty demons."

David, still taken aback by Ighalo’s sudden enthusiasm, answered quickly, "Well, my dad is Nigerian, but I’ve actually never been."

Ighalo let out a loud "Ooooh!" before throwing an arm around David in a brotherly hug. "Bro, it doesn’t matter. Naija to the top! But omo, you look white small ooo. Your papa for don chop white woman—chai, sharp man! see better green card way"( but Mahn you look a little white that means your dad had sex with a white woman, smart man)

David blinked. Ighalo had switched to Nigerian Pidgin, and David barely understood half of what he had just said But knowing some things from his dad he wanted to talk back.

Before David could respond, another voice came from behind. "What position are you?"

David turned around and saw Mason Greenwood staring at him, his expression unreadable.

Proudly, David replied, "Right winger."

Mason’s face visibly fell, and before he could say anything, Ighalo cut in with a laugh.

"Ehn, another winger! You young people, everyone just wants to be in the flashy positions. What happened to full-backs or defensive midfielders? It’s just goals, goals, goals!"

David burst out laughing. "Dude, you’re a striker! Are you for real?"

Ighalo threw his hands up. "Yeah, for sure! Have you seen me? It would be a crime not to be a striker!" he said, grinning.

David laughed even harder. "Well, it would be a heavenly sin if I don’t play right wing. God practically kept me to play there," he said proudly, sticking out his chest.

He then heard a snort from behind. He turned to see Mason again, but this time, Greenwood was no longer looking at him. His expression had turned sour, and his mood had clearly shifted. David wasn’t sure what had happened. Before he could think too much about it, another laugh came from his side.

David turned again, catching Juan Mata’s knowing smile. Before he could ask what was so amusing, Mata chuckled and said,

"Don’t think about it too much, kid. He’s just salty another winger is here. He’s thinking about his starting minutes.

"As someone who had experienced almost every aspect of a footballer’s career, Juan knew exactly what Mason was feeling. Right now, United already had strong wingers in Anthony Martial and Marcus Rashford—both young, highly talented, and still going strong. Mason hadn’t even fully secured his spot ahead of them, and now, here came another young player to add to the competition. Worse still, the coach seemed to have taken an immediate liking to the newcomer.

Juan had seen the way he interacted with the kid in the locker room, and that kind of enthusiasm from a coach could make any player nervous. He understood it all too well. The frustration of being sidelined. It was a feeling he had endured at the highest level—during Spain’s historic 2010 World Cup win, he had spent most of the tournament watching from the sidelines as Andrés Iniesta, Xabi Alonso, and David Silva took center stage.

Only getting a single appearance in a campaign that crowned them world champions—it stung. Especially when you believed you were good enough to be playing.

So, he simply smiled at David and said,"Like I said, don’t think too much about it, kid. It’s just competition."

David, still looking confused, tilted his head.

"But why? I’m not competing against him, though."

This Chapter is dedicated to Julius_Hansen_6916 thank you so much for my first and only so far golden ticket for the month of February

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