The sun was setting behind the training pitch, casting a golden hue over the turf. Ronald Matarrita wiped sweat from his brow, already halfway into another sprint before the coach blew the whistle.

“Hey Matarrita, you ever slow down?” a teammate called out, panting.

Ronald flashed a grin. “Only after ninety minutes… and even then, I’m just recharging.”

That night, under the floodlights, he tracked back with blistering speed to cut off a counterattack—then moments later, surged forward to deliver the assist that won the match.

“He’s everywhere,” the coach muttered, shaking his head. “Just give him the wings already.”