THE GREATEST OF ALL TIME
The Ruta Arena I

Wednesday, 1 May 2013.

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It was at half-four in the afternoon, just an hour and a half to start the Norwegian Football Cup second round match between Rosenborg BK and Strindheim IL.

Zachary stands among the other Rosenborg players in the parking lot of Lerkendal Idresspark, waiting to take a bus to Ruta Arena— home of Strindheim Idrettslag. Like his other team-mates, he wore an all-black designer suit and smooth, soft shoes.—it looked like he was heading for a classy wedding dinner rather than a football match.

He doesn't like the slightest stuffy clothes. He prefers casual clothes. However, he is still ready to wear it because it is the sporting director's mandate for every player to wear their clothes before the game. Wearing those clothes was a small price that had to be paid to participate in the match. In his previous life, he would even wear a dress if it could guarantee him a place among the regulars of professional football teams in Europe.

Two days have passed since Zachary first learned he would be in the starting line-up for Rosenborg's next game. However, he still felt like he was walking on a cloud.

He can't help it. He is very excited to play his debut game as a professional footballer in Europe.

Filled with anticipation and uneasiness, he did not want to say much. Instead, he keeps checking his backpack—boats shoes and buttons, check; shin guards, check; ankle guards—

Bzzt Bzz! Bzzt Bzz!

His phone shook while he was still rummaging through the contents of the bag. He took it from the side pocket of his coat and glanced at the screen. It was his grandmother's call. So, he immediately pressed the accept button.

"Habari, aunty," he said, putting the phone next to his ear.

"Hello, Zachary" he answered in the same Swahili language. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, grandma," Zachary replied humbly. "Aren't we talking the day before yesterday? Why are you calling right now when I told you that I'm going to play today's game?" She was so used to her grandmother that words came out naturally without needing much thought. With him, he did not need to be on guard and could easily express himself without worry.

"Can't I just 'just' call to say hello to my granddaughter?" He asked, his voice slightly raised. "Are you starting to feel sweet because you're no longer living here with me? Next time I see you, I'll pull that ear out." He added jokingly.

"Don't say that, grandma," he said, looking at his surroundings leisurely. He noticed that some of his team-mates had thrown curious glances at him because he spoke in a very exotic language. So, he walked a few steps away from the others before speaking on the phone once more. "Grandma, don't joke anymore. We'll start the game soon. Can we talk later?"

"Yes, we can talk later," he replied, his tone softened. "I'm just calling to wish you good luck in your game. But now you are fine in Europe, always remember to stay humble. That way, you will continue to advance in your career. And please remember to pray before the game. ."

"Thank you, grandma," Zachary replied, smiling sadly. "I'll do it." He could not remember the last time he prayed. But to reassure her grandmother and keep her from worrying, she answered positively.

"But Zachary," continued his grandmother, his voice became more serious. "When are you planning to come back and visit us? You know that it's been over two years since you left."

"Why are you asking this one more time? Didn't I promise that I'll be back in early June? That's the only time I'll get a few days off from the team."

"Well," he said, his voice softened once again. "I hope you keep your promise. I'll be waiting for you next month. So don't disappoint me."

"Okay, grandma," said Zachary humbly. "But I have to go now. My match will start soon."

"Wait a minute. One more thing, Zachary."

"Yes, grandma," Zachary replied after taking a cursory look around the parking lot and realizing that his teammates had not started boarding the bus.

“Grandmother, as I said before, I have already finished high school. So, I decided to take a break and concentrate on my current training. You know that I have to stay focused if I want to stay in the team. I can't do too many things at once. But, I will apply to the university in about a year or two. So, don't worry, grandma."

"I've heard that you can choose to study at night when you're at university. Why can't you sign up for such a course? That way, you can play football and learn at the same time."

"Grandmother" said Zachary pleading. "Can we talk about this later? My match will start soon. Okay, grandma?"

"okay, Zachary. May God give you many blessings. I wish you all the best. See you soon."

"See you. I'll also send you more showtimes at the end of the week. If anything else comes up, you can talk to Coach Damata."

"OK, but try to save some of your money. Don't keep sending me money. I'm fine here."

"Okay, grandma, Bye. Have a nice day." Zachary sighed, ending the call. For the past half-year, her grandmother called almost every week, asking when she would return to DR Congo to visit her. However, Zachary always practiced, trying to improve his skills as quickly as possible. He has not returned home since his arrival in Norway. She felt guilty every time she spoke to her grandmother because of it.

For school, she followed Kristin's advice and signed up for German and Spanish courses. But he did not say that to his grandmother at the time. Otherwise, he would have spent over thirty minutes questioning her about the details of her education.

He didn't have it because the bus was leaving soon. But still, talking to her grandmother had calmed her mind. He no longer felt restless and was already in the best state of mind to do his best in the game. He felt more excited to start the match.

"Okay guys, it's time" cried Trond Henriksen, Rosenborg's assistant head coach. "Come on the bus soon. We don't want to be late." He added while clapping.

Hearing the coach shout, all the players, including Zachary, stopped whatever they were doing and headed straight for the bus. They looked impressive as they moved towards the bus in their neat black suit. Most of them talk among themselves in small groups. On the other hand, technical staff, including trainers and medics, have been wearing their jackets over Rosenborg's modest tracksuits. They were the last to board the bus after eighteen players in the match squad had been seated.

A few minutes later, the bus took off and quickly arrived on highway E6, heading for the stbyen. It is one of the Trondheim neighborhoods located just 4.9 kilometers from Lerkendal. The region is home to the Strindheim Idrettslag— club that Rosenborg will face in the second round of the Norwegian Cup at 18:00 that day.

Zachary sits in the back with Fredrik Midtsjo and Nicki Nielson. But he did not engage in any conversation with them. Instead, he concentrated on listening to his music while watching a glimpse outside, through the window of the bus.

He could feel the wheels of the bus rolling down the road, following the turn and seamlessly greeting each slope. Immediately, it turned a corner and entered an environment dominated by natural green. As Zachary stared unknowingly out the window, off the road— on the horizon, he felt that it was a beautiful day the best— for his debut match in the Rosenborg first team. Although it was still spring, Trondheim Street glittered in the afternoon sun. Sunlight has bewitched the most brilliant mosaics, bouncing off every leaf and cloud clump. There was a good weather appointment that night. Zachary couldn't have expected better conditions to play his debut game.

Fifteen minutes later, the Rosenborg bus stopped at the Ruta Arena parking lot. Zachary followed his other team-mates as they disembarked from bus— and a minute later, he was standing in front of the stadium where he was going to play his debut match. He was delighted when he saw the fans and some journalists struggling to get close to the bus.

He eventually made it into the squad of the top teams in Norway. If he plays well, he will also sign autographs like his other team-mates within a month. He could not think of a time when he was happier. He did not even feel such emotions even while lifting the Riga and Norwegian Youth trophies. He smiled gently, letting calm satisfaction spread through him.

He began to observe his surroundings, his gaze exploring the stands while holding some of the early fans who had taken their seats. The stadium was small, perhaps with a capacity of less than 3000 seats, according to his estimates. Inevitably he wonders if Kasongo and his former team-mates came to watch his debut match. But from where he stood, he could not see the face of any of the spectators.

Meanwhile, he saw security officers begin to drive away fans and journalists who swarmed around the bus. The fans, in particular, seemed very enthusiastic about approaching the players. They ignored the security guards and went to great lengths to get signatures from star players like Mikael Dorsin and Mix Diskerud.

Zachary can understand why. Rosenborg is a giant in Norwegian football. Wherever the Rosenborg players go, they get a lot of attention from both the media and the fans. What's more in Trondheim—city of origin of the club. They are superstars.

So, even though Ruta Arena is home to Strindheim, there are still many Rosenborg fans who come to watch the game. After all, it is only a 10-15 minute drive from Lerkendal.

"Friends" shouted Coach Johansen after security personnel cleared the entrance to the stadium. "Let's go to the dressing room and change our warm-up clothes as soon as possible. We only have a little over an hour before the game. So, hurry up." He added, leading the way. The players follow him.

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