Against All Odds: Legacy Of A Football King
Chapter 44: Nightlife In A Café?

Chapter 44: Nightlife In A Café?

The city streets were quieter than Benjamin expected, probably the chill in the air keeping most people indoors.

He pulled his jacket tighter around himself as he followed Adam, who was walking at ease in front.

Makhachkala at night could be described as a blend of old-world charm and modern energy. The dim streetlights cast long shadows over the area and the occasional sound of a passing car broke the quiet of the night.

Small groups of locals wandered the streets, chatting and laughing, their breath visible in the cold.

"There," Adam said while nodding towards a small cafe with a glowing sign in Cyrillic.

The warm light spilling out from the building and onto the street was inviting, and a faint sound of music could be heard from within.

"You call this nightlife?" Benjamin asked with a smirk on his face.

"Hey, you start small alright. Don’t judge." Adam said with a shrug and then pushed open the door.

The atmosphere inside the cafe was worlds apart from the outside. The cafe was cosy and filled with the soft hum of conversation and the gentle strumming of a guitar from a corner musician.

Bang!

The sound of the door slamming shut behind them shattered the tranquil atmosphere in the cafe like a stone thrown into still water.

Multiple heads turned sharply in their direction and conversations halted mid-sentence. Even the soft melody from the guitarist faltered because of the sudden interruption and his fingers hesitated over the strings.

Benjamin felt the pressure of dozens of curious eyes on them. It was a mix of irritation and intrigue written across the patrons’ faces.

Adam soon noticed the shift in the air and was suddenly aware of the scene he’d caused. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Uh, sorry about that," he mumbled incoherently and his voice was barely audible over the lingering silence.

The guitarist resumed his playing and the gentle tune soon coaxed the room back to its prior rhythm. The conversations picked up again, though a few moody patrons cast lingering glances their way before returning to their drinks.

Benjamin sighed quietly while shaking his head as he followed Adam further into the café. The warm, inviting scent of brewed coffee and baked goods filled the air and eased the tension in his chest.

They found an empty table by the window with its wooden surface looking worn and scratched with the marks of countless visitors.

From their spot, Benjamin could see the street outside, where the glow of the streetlights reflected off the damp sidewalk.

He looked around their table and noticed a group of middle-aged men sitting huddled around a larger table with their voices carrying over the hum of the room.

Though they were speaking in Russian dialect and he couldn’t understand much, their conversation looked animated and was followed by bursts of ridiculing laughter and the occasional thud of a hand slapping the table.

"...I’m telling you, Anzhi has what it takes to go all the way this season and win the league!" one of the men said in a firm tone filled with conviction. He looked vexed as he stared at the one laughing in disapproval.

"Third place doesn’t guarantee anything, and you know it. And by the way, we’re only ten games into the season." another replied while shaking his head. "Zenit and CSKA would be miles ahead come end of the season. You’re dreaming if you think they’ll catch up."

"Humph!... But with Eto’o leading the line?" the first man countered and his eyes widened with a heated passion. "Anything’s possible."

Adam leaned back in his chair while casually drumming his fingers on the table as he caught up on the few key words. To football fans, it was quite obvious as to what they were arguing about.

Benjamin caught a faint smirk on his face and it was as if Adam found the debate amusing.

"What do you think they’d say if they knew two AZ Alkmaar players were sitting right here?" Adam suddenly said under his breath, leaning closer to Benjamin.

Benjamin chuckled softly but didn’t reply. His gaze strayed to the corner of the room, where the musician plucked his guitar strings with a practiced ease.

The released notes were gentle and blended seamlessly with the low murmur of the patrons voices, creating a warm and unhurried atmosphere.

A waitress soon approached their table, her smile appeared polite but tinged with curiosity at the two obvious first-timers.

She set down two steaming mugs of tea before them, her eyes flickering to Adam and Benjamin as if trying to read their faces.

"Spasibo (thank you)." Adam earnestly said in Russian but he knew that his pronunciation sounded clumsy at best.

The waitress smiled faintly at his attempt before nodding and retreating to the counter.

Benjamin wrapped his hands around the warm mug, letting the heat seep into his chilled fingers. He glanced at Adam, who was already sipping his tea and glancing with great interest towards the group of men nearby.

"It’s unfortunate that I can’t speak Russian as I would’ve joined in on the argument... Obviously, against that Anzhi guy?" Adam said quietly with a regretful expression.

"If you could, I’m sure they’d have a lot to say." Benjamin replied with his voice low.

Benjamin smirked, taking a sip of his tea. The warmth spread through him, chasing away the cold of the night outside.

For a moment, they sat in comfortable silence and only the lively discussion of the men nearby filled the background.

The voices from the nearby table suddenly grew louder as the men were clearly engrossed in their heated discussion.

The words "Europa League" and "AZ Alkmaar" caught Benjamin’s attention, and his ears perked up. He exchanged a glance with Adam, who was already leaning in slightly, trying to catch more of the conversation.

One of the men waved his hand dismissively, "You should forget the Premier League for now and instead focus on tomorrow’s match. It’s a qualifying play-off, and you guys can’t afford to mess it up."

The Anzhi Makhachkala supporter, who looked stocky with a thick beard and an oversized Anzhi scarf draped over his shoulders, scoffed at the man’s words.

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms with exaggerated confidence. "AZ Alkmaar? What even is that? If it were Ajax or PSV, maybe then I’d be a bit concerned. But AZ Alkmaar?" He spat out the name like it left a bad taste in his mouth. "Mark my words, they’ll go home with their tails between their legs. Five-nil and nothing less."

Benjamin’s eyes widened as he exchanged another look with Adam, who raised an eyebrow in amusement.

The other men at the table nodded along with the Anzhi fan while muttering in agreement. One of them even clinked his glass against the Anzhi fan’s in a toast and their laughter filling the small café.

But then, suddenly—

"Pffttt!"

Adam couldn’t hold it in anymore.

The sound of his ridiculing laughter cut through the air.

Multiple heads once again turned towards them, including those at the nearby table with their faces twisting in confusion and annoyance.