THE GREATEST OF ALL TIME

**VOLUME 3: THE MAESTRO OF THE TIPPELIGAEN**

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Friday, March 1, 2013.

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The mist danced upon the streets of Trondheim, making them appear like some magical daydream. The early morning sunlight, soft and diffuse, gave way to the first rays of the day, threatening to pierce through the dreamy ambiance.

Zachary cut across the morning chill, his Adidas sneakers kissing the pavement with a constant robotic rhythm—almost in sync with his heartbeat. He'd braved the early morning drizzle to partake in his routine six-mile outdoor run. His breath came steady, and he didn't exhibit any signs of slowing down despite having already run four miles.

He didn't mind the chilly weather one bit. He'd made sure to dress in waterproof clothing and tights that kept the raindrops and the cold away from his skin. Thanks to his ample preparations, he ran as free as a hare in the wild despite the temperature being lower than 3 degrees Celsius that morning.

In his previous life, he'd often resorted to liquor to escape his difficulties. In his new life, he had zeroed in on exercise as the most effective way to clear his mind, especially when he experienced hardship. For him, running was a dance, the way his spirit chose to weave itself into the natural world.

He had always found the peace he needed, the serenity to overcome his problems with just a little sweat. But that morning, Zachary couldn't stop himself from worrying about his contract negotiation with Rosenborg.

It had already been a little over a year since his performance in the Riga Cup finals. With flying colors, he had completed his spell at the NF Academy. After his incredible performance in Riga, he had continued playing like a superstar—going on to lead the academy to the semi-finals of the summer SIA Cup in Valencia. In that tournament, Zachary had showcased his incredible setpiece-taking skills. He'd scored twelve freekicks and managed to come out as top scorer despite his team being one of the weakest in that cup.

Despite his incredible performance, NF Academy had been eliminated by Valencia, the home club, in the semis. The failure of his team to win the highly contested cup had not dampened his mood. Instead, he'd upped his training intensity after realizing his skills were not yet adequate to help his team win a simple youth competition.

Zachary wished for his skills to eclipse any opponents in the youth competitions. So, he had focused his practice on the Ronaldinho Elastico Dribble and the Bend-it like Beckham Juju. He'd immersed himself in training the two skills like a madman, both in the system simulator and on the natural field, throughout July 2012.

Due to his intense focus and dedication, he had mastered them to beyond 100% completion before August. That had enabled him to use his new skill-set to shine in the Norwegian Cup of August 2012.

Thanks to his incredible performance, the NF Academy had managed to win the trophy for their first time in history. He had also managed to come out on top—as both top scorer and MVP in the tournament. That feat had even gained him some slight fame on some Norwegian media platforms. Even the Tipsbladet and Mundial magazines had listed him as one of the most promising talents in Norway.

When he had turned eighteen in December, the academy had nominated him as the sole player that would join the Rosenborg senior team directly from the academy.

Zachary's heart had leaped for joy. He'd thought Rosenborg would sign him eagerly after his excellent performance in his last academy year.

However, the negotiations with the club had not proceeded as he'd expected. The club had only offered him a two-year contract, with a monthly salary of 60,000 Norwegian Kroner. That income was far below the average earnings of the Rosenborg squad.

Emily Anderson, his agent, had immediately rejected the offer, even going as far as threatening to sue the club if they attempted to exploit her client. Negotiations had broken down at that point, with neither side giving leeway to the other.

The Rosenborg side claimed to have ownership rights over Zachary as a player. On the other hand, Emily Anderson argued that the club management had coerced him to sign a bogus contract and neglected his rights as a minor. On several occasions, she had threatened to report them to the FIFA Legal & Compliance Division.

But, the Rosenborg officials didn't relent on their stand. They claimed offering a high-salary contract to a player fresh out of the academy was utterly unreasonable. They didn't budge an inch in the negotiations, choosing to continue slapping Emily's face with the written agreement that tied Zachary to Rosenborg for two years. They acted with the shamelessness that matched none.

Zachary was frustrated. It was already the beginning of March, just two weeks to the start of the Tippeligaen. However, he wasn't close to sealing a deal with Rosenborg.

The previous week, he had suggested that Emily agree to the 60,000 NOK deal. As far as he was concerned, that was more than enough money to sustain his monthly expenses in Trondheim. However, Emily had employed her incredible negotiating skills in persuading him to stay patient for a few more days. She had promised to get him a satisfactory salary contract before the start of the 2013 Tippeligaen season.

Zachary had agreed since there was no harm in waiting a few more days. He was sure the Rosenborg management would insist on their contract terms despite how hard Emily haggled. He was even already training with the first team despite the pending deal.

The club wasn't the least bit worried Zachary would run away from Norway since there weren't that many transfer windows still open in the rest of Europe. His only viable choice at that moment was playing for Rosenborg—one of the giants in Scandinavian football that had already qualified for that season's Europa League. The club had a rich history and had always been a major contender of every Tippeligaen season since the 1960s. The Rosenborg officials were sure Zachary wouldn't miss out on such a golden chance.

"Let nature take its course," Zachary mumbled to himself in between gasps for breath. "What's the use of worrying about these issues? Whatever happens, I still get to play professional football in Europe. I'm already close to achieving my dream." He balled his fists as he rounded a corner and joined the lane leading to Stjørdalsveien, the location of his new apartment.

For the last 200 meter stretch, he upped his pace, quickly approaching the apartment structure. He grinned, feeling his mood lighten as the familiar scenery flashed by. His lungs struggled for air as he raced past a grey Bungalow. A few seconds later, he finally stopped in front of a seven-storied white and grey building.

Zachary felt a rising feeling of nausea from his stomach. He was utterly exhausted by the last sprint. It felt like his legs were empty. Nonetheless, he didn't relax. He first stretched his muscles for ten minutes before ascending the stairs to his apartment on the sixth floor.

He had moved out of his previous apartment in Moholt student village at the start of January. The academy management had 'advised' him to look for new housing after his graduation. So, he'd been left with no choice but to part with Kasongo and his other housemates. He had to live alone since he was the only one who'd made it to the Rosenborg senior team that year.

Nonetheless, he liked his new apartment and had readily signed the tenancy agreement to pay a deposit of 20,000 NOK and a monthly rent of 12,500 NOK. It comprised a large balcony with good sun conditions, just outside the kitchen—that also acted as a living room. Additionally, it had a single large bedroom, a bathroom, and a storage room. What Zachary liked the most was that it was fully furnished. It contained lavish sofas, a large bed, combi-cabinet, extra freezer, stove, dishwasher, and washing machine. That was the reason he'd agreed to pay such high rental fees that exceeded his previous life's five months' salary in one go.

The rental costs would have been impossible for him to afford if he hadn't won the cash prizes as the MVP for the Riga and the Norwegian Cups. He had managed to amass a total of 15,000 Euros—10K from Riga and 5K from the Norway cup. He could afford to pay the rent for the whole year without feeling a pinch.

Zachary hummed Imagine Dragons' yet-to-be-released song (on top of the world) as he continued ascending the steps leading to his apartment. His mood had improved slightly after the hour of exercise. He even struck a few dance poses, spinning around and wiggling his waist as he entered the corridor leading to his front door.

"I see that you're in a good mood," a feminine voice interrupted him as he was trying out a 'sort of' break-dance routine.

Zachary jumped up in surprise since he hadn't expected anyone outside his apartment. He immediately turned around and found Emily Anderson, his agent, waiting by his door. Her deep blue eyes were observing him with a trace of amusement.

"Go on, don't mind me," Emily said, mopping a hand through her wavy dark brown hair to push it backward. "Should I try to get you an endorsement with an underwear company? You could make it big by striking such poses." She added in a serious tone.

"You're back," Zachary said, choosing to ignore her endorsement talk. He would never opt to model for companies where he had to be partially nude. What would happen if his grandma chanced upon such a picture? He was better off remaining broke rather than facing her wrath.

"Yes, I'm back," Emily replied, her face blossoming like a field of spring flowers. "And, I finally have some good news regarding your contract with the club."

"Really," Zachary closed the distance between him and the agent in a single instant. "How good a deal did you manage to get from the management?" He inquired, locking eyes with her.

The corners of her mouth curved into a soft smile. "I wouldn't say that it's the best. However, the new deal is much better than all the previous offers made by that penny-pinching lawyer. I would say a thousand times better." She emphasized.

Zachary could hardly contain his delight. He'd been worrying over the contract for two whole months. Despite his best efforts to stay patient, he had still felt restless once in a while, wondering about all the things that could go wrong with the negotiations. But finally, there was a breakthrough. Hope bloomed inside him. He couldn't wait to hear the new terms of the contract.

"Let's talk inside," he said, a Cheshire cat's grin lighting up his face.