THE GREATEST OF ALL TIME
The Ruta Arena II

Kristin Stein arrived at the Ruta Arena just as the Rosenborg players entered the dressing room. "You know, we were late because of your carelessness" he said, speaking Norwegian. "I failed to even catch a glimpse of the players before they could enter the dressing room."

"Relax" Monica Rnning, a dark-haired skinny girl who is a friend of her flat, said in response. "We still have an hour to start the game. What's the point of looking at the players before the game starts?"

Kristin sighed, shaking her head. "What do you know? I want to get signatures from Mike Jensen and Nicki Nielsen before the game starts. They are two of our new team stars. But now, I'm already behind."

Monica frowned hearing that. "You're desperate" he said. "Can't you ask our neighbor to give you an autograph? I've seen you talk to him a few times. Why didn't you ask him to help?"

"We weren't close enough to ask him to take me a signature from another player" Kristin replied. “Moreover he just joined the team. Asking for an autograph on my behalf would make him uncomfortable being around his team-mates. Imagine walking up to a teammate and asking for an autograph. If you were in his place, would you be able to do it? she?"

"If that doesn't work, you can try asking your grandfather for help."

"Are you kidding me?" Kristin smiled wryly.

"Then you can just wait for another chance" Monica said. "But for now, let's buy our tickets first and go to the stands. The stadium is quite small. I'm afraid we won't be able to get a seat if we delay."

"OK, let's buy the ticket," Kristin agreed and led the way to the gate of Ruta Arena.

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Just after Kristin and Monica entered the stadium, a group of young men and women arrived at the stadium gate. They were Zachary's acquaintances. They all wore black and white Rosenborg beanies on their heads, Rosenborg scarves on their necks, plus white Rosenborg jerseys behind their jackets. They look like loyal fans of Troll Kids. Due to that simple fact, they attracted some unfriendly gazes from the fans of host Strindheim as they made their way to the ticket office.

"This is a very small place" Kasongo commented after paying for his ticket. "Are you sure we're in the right place? The stadium where Rosenborg will face Strindheim Idrettslag in the second round of the Norwegian Cup?"

The four others around him laughed at him.

"Don't take Strindheim Idrettslag lightly" Kendrick Otterson interrupted, shaking his head. "Although their stadium seems subpar, the club itself—how do I call it?" He stopped, seemingly remembering some information. "They are a very famous and competitive multi-sport club with sections for athletics, handball, football, speed skating, and cross-country skiing. Their cross-country skiing team even has some world cup competitors. Petter Northug*, one of the top athletes in Norway, is from around here. So, they are not just an ordinary football club. They deserve our respect."

"Then, they have to build a stadium that suits their status" said Paul Otterson. He also just finished paying for his ticket.

"But their men's football team is only in the second division" Kendrick said, shaking his head. "And they don't need a bigger football stadium to ski or skate."

"Okay, guys," said Melissa Romano, frowning slightly. "Let's go to the stadium. At a rate where the fans are flooding in, it will be full in just a few minutes. So, we better hurry."

"Agree," said Marta Romano, her twin sister nodding.

But just as Kasongo was about to sit on one of the chairs, he heard someone call his name. He turned around and realized that it was Kristin Stein. "Kasongo," he shouted, trying to make himself hear the chatter of the fans around him. "Why don't you and your friends join us here? We have plenty of room." He pointed at the empty chair beside him.

"You know him" asked Paul, looking at him with a smile that was not a smile.

"Yes" replied Kasongo. "Don't misunderstand me. He's Mr.'s grandson. Martin Stein, the scout who took us to Trondheim. He's Zachary's friend, too." He added, glancing at Marta Romano.

"What do you say, Martin Stein?" Both Paul and Kendrick exclaimed, their eyes widened and mouths agape. They look funny.

"Yes, Mr. Stein, scout," Kasongo replied as he glanced at Kristin who was still waiting for their response. "What's wrong? Why are you two surprised?"

Both Kendrick and Paul sighed at the same time.

"You may not know this because you just arrived at the academy two years ago" Kendrick said. "But Mr. Stein is a legend, well known in most circles who has supported Rosenborg for a long time. He was an executive on the club's board until three or four years ago. I can't remember when he retired. "

"I have heard that he is one of the people who has contributed a lot to the success of the club. That's why there's a saying: Coach Eggen in the light, Mr. Stein in the dark. Many claim that it was the key to Rosenborg's success over the past two decades. He may still be in management, despite not actively participating in club matters for many years."

"Isn't he just a regular lookout?" Kasongo looked at Kendrick doubtfully. He still remembers the first time he saw a scout in Lubumbashi. Mr. Stein wore simple Khaki shorts, an unironed shirt, and casual sandals. He has no connection whatsoever with someone who was once part of the management of a famous Norwegian club.

"You're kidding me, aren't you," Paul replied, frowning at her. "How could you not know this when he asks you?"

"Friends," cut off Melissa, interrupting their conversation. "You better decide if we're going to watch the game there or stay here. He's waiting, and the players are going to start their warm-up. So, decide."

"OK, okay," said Kasongo, glancing at Kristin once more. He noted that the five seats next to him were still empty. "What do you think, guys? Should we watch the game from there?" He asked the rest.

"I'm fine" Kendrick said.

"I am too..."

"All right then." Kasongo nodded after hearing the response from the others. "Since you all agree, let's watch the match from there."

**** ****