AI Tactics, World Cup Tragedy

At six o'clock on the morning of match day, I was woken by the constant buzzing of my phone.

When I picked it up, the screen was filled with more than a dozen unread text messages.

All of them came from unknown numbers.

"If we lose today, it'll all be your fault, you jinx!"

"You coward! I hope you really do get seriously injured!"

I had no idea who leaked my phone number.

But I wasn't surprised at all.

The atmosphere in the locker room before the match was heavy.

Mauricio stood in front of the tactics board, giving his final instructions.

He walked over and slapped my shoulder hard enough to make my collarbone ache.

Then he turned to the whole team and announced loudly, "Christian will be on the bench today because he has a problem with his attitude!

"The Invincible Spiral requires every player on the field to believe in the system 100 percent.

"Anyone who doubts it must never be allowed on the field to sabotage it!"

The locker room immediately erupted into applause.

Tim clapped harder than anyone else.

During warm-ups, fans in the southwest corner of the stadium had already raised banners.

One read. "Christian, Get Out of the National Team!"

Another said. "No cowards in Team Libertas!"

Soon, people started chanting insults at me through megaphones.

The whole stadium echoed with their voices.

At eight that evening, the match officially began.

In the second minute, center forward Ricardo Cameron received a long pass near midfield.

He remembered the tactical instructions perfectly.

So, he immediately started spinning in place.

The ridiculous training of coating his cleats with petroleum jelly had left him with terrible habits.

His feet slipped.

Before he could finish the turn, he crashed awkwardly onto the grass.

The opposing defensive midfielder easily stole the ball and launched a counterattack.

In the fourth minute, their striker scored on a breakaway.

We were down 0-1.

Mauricio jumped out of the coaching area and screamed from the sidelines.

"Spin faster!

"There's too much friction slowing you down!"

In the eighth minute, our defenders scattered according to the formation's positioning rules.

The middle of the field opened up completely.

The opposing midfielder didn't even look up before threading a pass straight through.

0-2.

By the time the whistle blew for halftime, we were losing 0-5.

Every goal came from blindly spinning and losing possession.

Our defensive line was an absolute mess.

Even our goalkeeper didn't dare to stretch out his hands early to predict the direction of the shots.

The ball kept bouncing off his chest, letting the other team score easy rebounds.

Sitting on the bench and watching this disaster unfold, I found it absurd beyond words.

The opinions on social media split into two camps.

One side viciously attacked the formation.

The other side viciously attacked Mauricio for his failed tactics.

Mauricio stormed into the locker room during halftime.

His face was twisted with rage.

He rushed straight at me and pointed at my nose.

"This is all your fault!"

His eyes were bloodshot.

"You spread negativity before the match and poisoned the whole team!

"Because you don't believe in AI, they couldn't execute the tactics properly!"

Tim strode over, grabbed my collar, and slammed me against the metal lockers behind me.

The handle of the locker door dug hard into my back.

Pain shot through my body.

"Did you do this on purpose?"

Tim's face was inches from mine.

"Isn't this exactly what you wanted to see?"

Mauricio's phone kept vibrating.

Calls from officials at the National Soccer Federation came one after another, demanding answers.

Unable to vent his anger anywhere else, he dumped it all on me.

"You must play in the second half!

"If we can't make a comeback, then you're finished!"

Tim tightened his grip on my collar.

"Did you hear that?

"You have to get on the field and take responsibility!"