Actually, Olamide quickly rushed to the window as soon as he opened his eyes that Friday morning and noticed that the sun was too bright for 7:00 a.m.
Then he quickly glanced at his phone, and it was...
"Ah! 9:55 a.m.?!" Olamide exclaimed, holding his head.
His heart immediately did a tripple flip.
"Yehhh! I'm finished, o." he said as he jumped out of bed, tripped over his phone charger, and crashed his face into a half- empty bag of plantain chips.
Today was the final of the Inter-Faculty Football Cup at the University of Lagos, between the engineering students and the Law students, and he—Olamide—was not only the team captain but also the only striker with enough leg strength to send a ball from Surulere to Owerri.
So it was very important for him to be in this game.
And now, he was late.
Back on the field.
"Great! Great! Engineering students!" a student from engineering faculty hailed their fellow engineering mates.
"Greatest engineers!" the engineering football team echoed in unison.
"Oooohhhh!" The female engineering students hyped themselves up from among the crowd in unison, loud enough for their engineering team to hear.
Suddenly, a Law student followed suit, "Greatest of the greatest Law students!" the Law team hyped themselves in a loud voice.
"Always known for winning!" the Law team echoed loudly in unison.
The crowd cheered for their various teams. The campus buzzed like a disturbed beehive. Students from other faculties streamed into the Sports Complex in a riot of jerseys, face paint, and whistles of different sounds. The two teams had been hyped for weeks. Short and long rhyming songs had been composed, friendships had been rekindled, and what's more, lecturers had been lenient with students just for the sake of the match.
Before the match started, the Dean walked to the middle of the field and addressed the crowd:
"I absolutely and solemnly promise academic immunity for any engineering or Law students who scored the first goal." The Dean promised, smiling as he walked back to his sit.
"Dean the man! Dean the man! Dean the man!" all the students hailed the Dean loudly.
The noise was crazy!
The hype was on another level!
The vibes could give you goosebumps!
The energy was coming from left, right, and center. Everywhere you looked, a student was hailing a team.
Now, back to Olamide's crib.
"Drrrriiinnng!" Olamide's phone rang loudly.
"Guy, where are you?!" They've started warm-up o!" Jide, Olamide's course mate, yelled over the phone.
"I overslept, I swear!" Olamide said
"You what?! You overslept during an important match such as this!" Jide exclaimed in fury.
"I'm sorry, na! You too dey vex," Olamide pleaded.
"Ola, if you like, don't teleport here. Just know that the Law boys are already doing backflips on the pitch!" Jide said and dropped the call.
Olamide quickly pulled on his shorts while brushing his teeth with one hand, rinsed his mouth, and rushed back into the room to stuff agege bread into his mouth. While he was chewing, he grabbed his boots, ignored his socks, and dashed outside.
He immediately boarded a keke napep.
Unfortunately, the driver was still calling for other passengers to enter, and Olamide was already feeling restless and frustrated.
"There are no passengers here, na. Abeg, let's go," Olamide pleaded in frustration.
"How e dey do you? Will you pay me for all the seats?!" the driver asked angrily.
"Oya! I go pay! Let's just go" Olamide yelled in a hurry.
"Where?" The driver asked.
"Sport Complex! Oga, abeg, run fast! I'll pay double!" Olamide pleaded hurriedly.
"Oh boy! Is it football or World War?!" the driver asked, surprised by the height of Olamide's speed.
"Just...drive!" Olamide commanded loudly.
The Keke took off with the speed of spiritual deliverance.
Back on the pitch, the engineering team looked like a badly mixed salad. They appeared confused, uncoordinated, and tired, even though the match had just barely started.
The Law team was already on goal number one.
The crowd was chanting, "Where is Ola?! Where is Ola?! Where is Ola?!"
Suddenly, Olamide appeared like an unexpected ghost. Immediately, the crowd parted like the Red Sea and let him through the open path,
"Ola! Ola! Ola!" the crowd hyped loudly. A few others dragged him forward, while female students from other faculties tapped his head playfully to get his attention. But no, Ola was focused; he just wanted to be on the pitch already. He walked hurriedly through the open path with his jersey half-buttoned, his boots in his hands, sweat rushing down his face like heavy rain, leaping through the open path like a possessed man.
The announcer almost choked on his zobo as soon as he saw Olamide.
"And... and... he is here at last! Olamide has finally landed!" the commentator announced.
"If you don't score a goal, just don't bother going back to training—In fact, don't come back to earth," Coach Musa whispered to Olamide.
"Okay." Olamide said simply, quickly bent over to put on his boots—and realized he'd worn mismatched ones.
"No time," he said to himself as he ran to join the rest of his team.
The second half had already started.
Olamide was not there to joke; he was on fire. Immediately his teammates passed him the ball, he moved to the left wing, heading up towards the goal post, connected by signaling one of his team mates and passing the ball to him. His team mate grabbed the ball like a magnet and dribbled past a Law student, then passed it back to Olamide. Olamide scanned around, calm as ever—then bam! A sudden burst of pace!He danced through Law's defenders like a madman at a wedding. He flicked the ball, dribbled, back-heeled, and confused one Law student so much that the innocent guy started marking his fellow teammate.
Again, Olamide came one-on-one with another Law student—Olamide dropped his shoulder and whoosh! He sent him the wrong way! Again, he scanned around and passed the ball to Jide, Jide grabbed it tightly with his feet, moved towards the goalpost, dribbled past two Law student, and passed it back to Olamide. Olamide then suddenly faked a shot, confusing a Law student about his next move, then he rolled the ball behind his standing feet, and in perfect slow-motion like a Nollywood flashback, lifted his leg and took a long, electrifying shot from midfield.
The ball curved in the air.
Every mouth on the field hung open and...
"Goaaaaaaaal!!!" the commentator exclaimed.
"Goaaaaaaaal!!!" the crowd exploded and rosed up like a huge wave of the sea. The screaming was on another level.
Coach Musa took off his cap, raised it to heaven, and muttered, "God, you are too much, o." he said, grinning and jumping in joy.
Olamide ran to the crowd, opened his arms like a superhero in a music video. Someone threw him a shawarma, and someone else threw him a bra. The Dean actually fainted, and woke up jumping in excitement.
The goal had made the score 3-2
And suddenly, the final whistle blew. The match was over.
Olamide bent down, panting heavily, sweaty, and grinned victoriously.
And perhaps still feeling sleepy.
"You were late to the game but eventually came out victorious in the end," Jide tapped his head playfully as they chuckled together.
THANKS A LOT FOR READING ME.