Dancing Rasta, the captain of the famed Supa Strikas, was lying on a bed in the hotel room he shared with his team's youngest player - the ambitious and talented Shakes. Despite Shakes being the youngest, he certainly wasn't the dumbest or lacking in ambition. Rasta was well aware of that. Rasta was engrossed in reading a book, relishing in the respite after a strenuous training session as the sun gracefully descended beyond the horizon outside the window. Tomorrow, they were set to face FC Technicali in their stadium, and their hotel was conveniently located in close proximity. Rasta was confident in the preparation and dedication of himself and the Coach, knowing that they had diligently trained their players to the best of their abilities.

A fleeting thought surfaced in Rasta's mind, wondering where Shakes was, but then he recalled that the young boy had gone to Klaus and El Matador's room to engage in some gaming, having successfully persuaded them.

"Ah, Shakes and his games..." Rasta couldn't help but hum with a small smile before returning his attention back to his book.