The locker room buzzed quietly before kickoff. Robin Olsen sat in front of his locker, headphones off, gloves in hand. The air was heavy with anticipation.

“You nervous?” asked the backup keeper, tying his laces without looking up.

Olsen shook his head. “Not nervous. Focused.”

Out on the pitch, as the anthem faded, he scanned the opposition’s forwards with an analytical gaze. He adjusted his gloves, knelt to touch the turf, and rose slowly.

“This is where it counts,” he murmured to himself.

Minutes later, a blistering shot was fired toward the top corner. Olsen dove full-stretch—gloved fingertips met the ball just in time. The crowd erupted. He stood, unshaken, eyes already on the next play.