The opposing full-back already looked nervous, and Saba Lobjanidze hadn’t even touched the ball yet.

On the sidelines, Saba bounced lightly on his toes, eyes locked on the pitch. As the ball came to his feet, time seemed to slow. One touch, two — then a burst of speed.

He flew past his marker like a gust of wind.

“Don’t let him cut in!” someone shouted from the other team.

Too late.

Saba shifted his weight, cut inside onto his right foot, and unleashed a curling shot toward the far corner. The net rippled.

Jogging back with a smirk, he glanced at his teammate. “Told you — give me space, and I’ll make them pay.”

“Remind me never to bet against you again,” the teammate laughed.