Against All Odds: Legacy Of A Football King
Chapter 111: Handicap 1

Chapter 111: Handicap 1

Sophie collected the controller with a huff, and her fingers started working the buttons as she scrolled through the menu.

The rapid clicking filled the room as she exited the current team selection and dove into unfamiliar territory.

Benjamin leaned back, watching her with mild curiosity. "What’re you doing?"

"Finding the perfect team for you to use," she muttered, her tone dripping with determination.

The scrolling slowed as she navigated to the England section, and then down to clubs in the English League Two.

The logos of small, obscure teams flicked across the screen. Sophie’s focus was unshaken, and her gaze narrowed as she hunted for something specific.

Benjamin tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. "How do you even know that league exists?" he asked, surprise evident in his voice. "And what club are you looking for?"

Sophie’s lips curved into a sly smirk, her red hair glinting in the light as she glanced at him. "York City. It should be somewhere here."

Both Benjamin and Adam exchanged bewildered looks.

"York City?" Benjamin repeated, leaning forward slightly. "How do you know about that club?"

Adam added, his brows furrowed. "Even I’m just hearing of them for the first time."

Sophie’s smirk deepened as she paused on the team’s logo. "For your information, I was in York four months ago for a vintage fashion show," she said, her tone casual but tinged with pride. "While I was there, I picked up a thing or two about English football."

Benjamin’s expression shifted to mild amusement. "A vintage fashion show?" he echoed, leaning back with a disbelieving smile. "And let me guess, you got disqualified, right?"

Adam’s laugh came out as an unintentional snort, earning him a glare from Sophie.

"Guess what?" she said instead, ignoring Benjamin’s jab.

"What?" Adam asked, his voice curious but hesitant, like he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

Sophie rolled her eyes dramatically. "Obviously, I didn’t get disqualified," she said, shooting Benjamin a sharp look. "Instead, I placed third and also got to learn some fascinating trivia about York City FC. Did you know they’re called ’The Minstermen’ because of their ties to the city’s history?"

Benjamin blinked, momentarily thrown by the sudden shift to history class. Adam frowned, clearly trying to process the information.

"The Minstermen?" Adam repeated slowly.

Sophie nodded, turning back to the screen as she finalized her selection. "Yep. It’s kind of cool, actually. And now," she added with a triumphant grin, "you’re gonna need their underdog spirit for the next game, Benjamin."

Benjamin shook his head, an amused chuckle escaping his lips. "You really are full of surprises, Sophie."

Sophie handed the controller back to Benjamin with a satisfied smirk and turned her attention back to her own screen.

With quick, deliberate button presses, she selected Real Madrid, and their 89 overall rating kept glinting like a trophy in the top corner.

Benjamin glanced at the screen, then back at his own. The York City badge sat there with a modest 54 overall rating. His lips parted slightly in disbelief. "You’ve got to be kidding me."

Sophie tilted her head innocently, the light from the TV reflecting in her green eyes. "What?" she asked, feigning innocence. "This is a fair game."

She paused for a moment and then added, "You’re pardoned from playing with blindfolds. I want to beat you fair and square."

Benjamin rubbed his temples and let out a long sigh, already regretting the brag. "Yeah, sure. Fair," he muttered under his breath as he settled into his seat.

Adam leaned forward, grinning from ear to ear. "This is gonna be good," he said, his tone full of anticipation.

As the pregame settings wrapped up and the match loaded, Sophie leaned back into the couch, crossing one leg over the other. "Now, no excuses, Benjamin," she teased. "Let’s see that legendary skill you were bragging about."

Benjamin smirked, but the flicker of doubt in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed. "Don’t worry. I won’t hold back," he replied, gripping the controller tightly.

The opening whistle blew, and the game was on.

From the very first kick, it was clear this wouldn’t be an easy match for someone’s York City.

Sophie’s Real Madrid dominated possession, passing the ball smoothly through York City’s sluggish midfield.

"Oh, look at that control," Sophie said, her tone dripping with mock awe as her players worked the ball up the pitch. "This is textbook football."

Benjamin clenched his jaw, his fingers darting over the buttons as he tried to hold her off. But Real Madrid’s sheer pace and precision were overwhelming due to their higher player ratings.

In the 12th minute, Sophie’s Benzema broke through the backline and slotted the ball past Benjamin’s hapless keeper. The scoreboard lit up: 1–0.

Sophie gasped dramatically, covering her mouth with one hand. "Did I... did I just score?" she asked, her voice sweet but laced with mischief.

Adam burst out laughing, slapping his knee. "You’re ruthless, Sophie."

Benjamin exhaled sharply, resetting his players. "Lucky shot," he muttered.

The game resumed, and Benjamin focused harder, trying to string together passes and launch a counterattack.

But every time he gained possession, Sophie’s defenders swarmed, cutting him off with ease.

By the 26th minute, Sophie had scored again, this time with a thunderous strike from Xabi Alonso just outside the box.

"Two-nil!" she cheered, raising her arms in triumph. "I’m unstoppable."

Benjamin groaned, leaning back against the couch. "You’ve got the better team by a mile, it’s not something to be proud of" he argued, but his tone lacked conviction.

"And you’re supposed to be the better player," Sophie shot back with a grin. "What happened to that confidence?"

Adam chuckled, leaning toward Benjamin. "You might wanna step it up, mate. This is turning into a massacre."

Benjamin straightened, his jaw tightening. "Alright, no more messing around," he declared, gripping the controller tightly. An uncanny resemblance to Adam in his previous whupping.

The intensity shifted. Benjamin began to press higher, cutting off Sophie’s passing lanes and launching quick counters.

For a moment, it seemed like he might claw his way back into the game. But then, in the 40th minute, disaster struck.

Sophie intercepted a risky pass in midfield and broke forward with blinding speed. Cristiano Ronaldo danced past Benjamin’s lone defender before calmly placing the ball into the bottom corner. 3–0.

Sophie erupted with laughter, throwing her head back in delight. "This is too easy!" she exclaimed, barely able to contain her glee.

Adam was doubled over, tears streaming down his face. "Benjamin," he choked out between laughs, "you’re getting destroyed."

Benjamin calmly tossed the controller onto the couch with a sigh. "This isn’t even fun anymore," he grumbled.

Sophie leaned toward him, her grin practically glowing. "Come on, Benjamin," she teased. "Where’s that fighting spirit? Or are you giving up already?"

He glanced at her, his lips twitching with the ghost of a smile. "You’re enjoying this way too much."

"Of course I am," Sophie replied, picking up his controller and placing it back in his hands. "Now, quit whining and play the second half. Who knows? You might surprise me."

Benjamin stared at her for a moment, then shook his head, a faint chuckle escaping his lips. "Fine. But don’t blame me if I turn this around."

"Oh, I’d love to see you try," Sophie challenged.