Against All Odds: Legacy Of A Football King
Chapter 129: The Absurdity Of It All 1

Chapter 129: The Absurdity Of It All 1

The following days after AZ Alkmaar’s emphatic win over Roda JC was quieter than usual, with most football leagues and the Eredivisie on hold for the international break.

Benjamin saw this as both a blessing and an opportunity in disguise. He had no matches to prepare for, but that didn’t mean he planned to relax.

If anything, the downtime gave him a chance to focus on his training and push himself further.

At 17, Benjamin was fully aware of the expectations that came with his recent performances in the Eredivisie and the Europa League.

His overall stats in both of the leagues—seven goals and eight assists in just five games—had already started to draw attention.

Yet, amidst all the praise and the headlines, there was one noticeable absence: neither the Dutch national team nor the Nigerian national team had reached out to him.

Benjamin wasn’t surprised, though. He knew he was still young and had only recently made a name for himself at the senior level.

The national teams had their priorities, especially with upcoming qualifiers for both the African Cup of Nations and the FIFA World Cup. Still, he couldn’t help but think about the decision he would have to make eventually.

On paper, the Netherlands seemed like the obvious choice for him as he was born and raised in Haarlem, a Dutch city he still called home.

His late father was a proud Dutchman, and had instilled in him a love for the country’s culture and its footballing legacy. He’d grown up watching the Oranje on television, and dreaming of one day donning the iconic orange jersey.

But there was another part of him—one tied to his mother, who was of Nigerian descent.

Benjamin and his late sister had never visited Nigeria and had few interactions with his extended family there, but he felt a quiet pull toward the country.

His mother often spoke fondly of her Yoruba roots, and shared stories about the vibrant culture and the passion Nigerians had for football.

She’d occasionally mention the Super Eagles—their national team which had talented players of both past and present like; the one so good they named him twice, Jay-Jay Okocha, Victor Ikpeba, Nwankwo Kanu, and the recent John Obi Mikel, who won the Champions League with Chelsea football club.

She’d also mentioned how much pride it brought to the country.

But despite this connection, Benjamin felt distant from Nigeria. He had been raised entirely in the Netherlands, surrounded by Dutch traditions and values.

His friends, his schooling, and his footballing development were all deeply tied to Haarlem.

Choosing between the two nations felt less like a decision and more like an identity question he wasn’t ready to answer.

For now, he decided to focus on what he could control: his training. Benjamin knew that regardless of which national team he eventually represented—or whether they reached out to him at all—he needed to keep improving.

Each day of the break, he followed a strict routine. The mornings began with strength and conditioning work at the gym in the AFAS Training Complex.

Afternoons were spent refining his technical skills—dribbling drills, passing accuracy, and set pieces.

He dedicated a lengthy amount of extra time to free kicks, hoping to make the perfection he’d achieved against Roda JC a regular feature of his game.

The Evenings were much quieter, and was reserved for recovery and studying matches.

Benjamin would watch clips of players he admired—Cristiano Ronaldo, Ronaldinho, Jay-Jay Okocha, and Lionel Messi among them—analyzing their movements, decision-making, and composure under pressure. He took notes, always looking for ways to adapt their strengths into his own game.

Though he didn’t talk much about the international dilemma with anyone, it lingered in his thoughts during those quiet moments.

He wondered what his mother, who was currently resting above, would say if he chose the Netherlands. He imagined what it might feel like to hear the Nigerian anthem and see his mother’s proud smile.

For now, though, there were no calls from the KNVB or the Nigerian Football Federation. And that was fine by him.

Benjamin believed the time would come when his performances would speak louder than any decision he could make now. Until then, he would let his work on the pitch do the talking.

The international break wasn’t a time to rest—it was a chance to prepare for what lay ahead.

September 16th was circled on the calendar in his room, the day AZ Alkmaar would return to action.

Benjamin had set a goal for himself: to come back stronger, sharper, and ready to prove that his early-season form was no fluke.

A few days into the international break, Benjamin received unexpected news. It came in the form of a call-up—not from the senior national team he had expectations about, but from the U20 Dutch squad for the upcoming U20 European Championship.

The notification came through a call from his agent, Ashley, who sounded almost celebratory about the opportunity.

But Benjamin’s initial reaction was far from excitement. He stared at the message, feeling a mix of disbelief and frustration.

The idea of being sent to the U20s felt like a step backward. He was playing in the Eredivisie, delivering performances that were being talked about across the league, yet here he was, being grouped with players who were still finding their footing in youth football.

It wasn’t just a matter of pride, though that played a part. It was the principle of it. Benjamin had worked tirelessly to prove he could perform on the big stage.

His seven goals and eight assists in five matches across the Eredivisie and Europa League spoke for themselves. What more did he need to show?

He let the call from Ashley end with a noncommittal response, chiding her for even accepting to relay the message on their behalf, and spent the rest of the day stewing over the decision.

The absurdity of it all gnawed at him. Was this how his progress was going to be recognized?

A nod to play for the U20s while others his age were being fast-tracked into senior teams?

"Well, I call BS on that."