CHAPTER 509: THROUGH THE RAIN

The driving instructor, Mr. Clutch, looked terrified. He was gripping the dashboard so hard his knuckles were white.

"Mr. Finch," Mr. Clutch whispered. "The speed limit is thirty. You are doing forty."

Alex sat in the driver’s seat of the small Ford Fiesta. He was gripping the steering wheel at ten and two.

"I calculated the drag coefficient," Alex said calmly. "At this speed, we optimize fuel efficiency by 4.2 percent."

"We optimize crashing into a bus!" Mr. Clutch squeaked. "Please, slow down. Brake."

Alex pressed the brake. The car jerked to a stop.

Mark was sitting in the back seat. He was wearing a chauffeur’s hat and eating a bag of crisps.

"To the Batcave, James!" Mark shouted.

"My name is not James," Alex sighed. "And we are going to the training ground, not a cave."

"Details," Mark waved his hand. "Drive faster! I have a meeting with a sandwich!"

"Silence in the back!" Mr. Clutch yelled. "Mr. Finch, parallel park behind that blue van. Do not hit it. It looks expensive."

Alex looked at the space.

He visualized the geometry. The angle of the wheels. The turning radius. The friction of the tires.

He reversed. He turned the wheel 360 degrees. He slid into the space.

Perfect.

"Textbook," Alex whispered.

"You are two inches from the curb," Mr. Clutch said, wiping sweat from his forehead. "You drive like a robot."

"Robots are safe," Alex said.

"Robots do not have me in the back seat!" Mark yelled. "I am the chaotic element! The wildcard!"

Mark opened the window and waved at a passing dog. "HELLO DOG! I AM A FAMOUS PASSENGER!"

Alex passed the test. Just.

He walked out of the test center holding his certificate.

Milo was waiting in the car park.

Milo was dressed as... a Traffic Cone.

He was wearing a bright orange triangular suit with a white stripe. He was standing in the middle of a parking space, guarding it.

"HALT!" Milo shouted. "I AM THE CONE OF POWER! ALEX! YOU PASSED! I AM SELLING CUSTOM LICENSE PLATES! ’GOAL 1’! ’SPEED 1’! ’PIZZA 1’! ONLY FIVE HUNDRED POUNDS!"

"Milo, you look ridiculous," Alex said.

"I AM HIGH VISIBILITY!" Milo yelled. "SAFETY FIRST! BUSINESS SECOND! ALSO, I RESERVED THIS SPOT FOR YOUR FERRARI! WHERE IS IT?"

"I don’t have a Ferrari, Milo."

"YET!" Milo winked. "THE DYNASTY NEEDS WHEELS!"

They drove to the training ground (in Alex’s dad’s car).

It was the start of the new season. The Charity Shield (Community Shield) was tomorrow.

Manchester United again.

They wanted revenge for the laser goal.

Steve, the manager, was waiting in the video room.

"Congratulations on the driving license," Steve said. "Now, let us talk about driving a midfield."

He pointed to the screen.

"United have bought new players. They are stronger. They have a new defensive midfielder. A destroyer."

The screen showed a player who looked like a tank.

"This is ’The Wall’," Steve said. "He does not move. He does not run. He just stands there and hits people."

"Physics," Alex muttered. "Immovable object."

"Exactly," Steve said. "If you run into him, you break. You have to go around him. Or over him."

Mark raised his hand. "Can I run under him? Like a mouse?"

"No, Mark. He will step on you."

"Oh," Mark looked disappointed. "Plan B then. Run really fast around him."

Wembley Stadium. Sunday Afternoon.

The sun was shining. The pitch was perfect.

Alex walked out of the tunnel.

He felt different. He wasn’t a schoolboy anymore. He was a professional. He didn’t have homework waiting for him on Monday.

He only had football.

Bruno Fernandes stood next to him.

"Ballon d’Or," Bruno sneered. "Heavy trophy. Does it make you slow?"

"Gold is a conductor," Alex replied. "It makes me electric."

Bruno frowned. "We have a Wall today. You will not pass."

The whistle blew.

The game started.

United’s new midfielder, "The Wall," was indeed huge. He stood in the center circle like a statue.

In the fifth minute, Rico tried to dribble past him.

Rico did a stepover. The Wall just stood there. Rico ran into him.

Thud.

Rico bounced off and fell on the grass.

"He is made of concrete!" Rico complained. "My Samba does not work on concrete!"

United played a physical game. They kicked. They shoved. They wanted to bully the champions.

In the twentieth minute, Rashford broke away.

He ran past Ben White. He crossed.

Hojlund scored.

Goal.

Zero one. United.

The United fans cheered. "THE WALL! THE WALL!"

Alex stood in the midfield.

He analyzed the obstacle.

Problem: The Wall blocks the direct path.

Solution: Fluid dynamics. Water flows around the rock.

"Rico! Mark!" Alex shouted. "Be water!"

"I AM A TSUNAMI!" Mark screamed.

Arsenal restarted.

Alex stopped trying to go through the middle. He started spreading the play.

He passed wide to Saka. He passed wide to Martinelli.

They stretched the United defense.

The Wall had to move. He had to step left. He had to step right.

He was big, so he was slow to turn.

Thirty fifth minute.

Alex got the ball.

The Wall stepped up to crush him.

Alex waited.

He saw The Wall plant his feet.

Alex did a "Nutmeg".

He rolled the ball gently through the giant’s legs.

The Wall tried to turn, but he tangled his feet. He fell over like a cut tree.

Alex ran past him.

He was free.

He saw Mark making a run.

Alex hit a slide-rule pass.

Mark collected it.

He was one on one with Onana.

"LICENSE TO SCORE!" Mark yelled.

He smashed it.

Goal.

One one.

Mark ran to the corner. He pretended to drive a car. He grabbed an imaginary steering wheel and honked the horn.

"BEEP BEEP!" Mark shouted. "GET OUT OF THE WAY!"

Halftime. One one.

Steve was calm.

"The Wall is cracking," Steve said. "He is tired. He is heavy. Keep moving him. Make him dizzy."

He looked at Alex.

"Professor. Calculate the breaking point."

"Fatigue is exponential," Alex nodded. "He will collapse in twenty minutes."

Second half.

The sun went in. Clouds gathered.

A summer storm broke.

Rain lashed down. It was a monsoon.

The pitch became slippery. The ball skidded.

"Hydroplaning," Alex whispered. "Friction is reduced."

United loved the rain. They slid into tackles. They turned the game into a mud bath.

Seventy fifth minute.

The game was messy.

Alex got the ball. He was covered in mud.

The Wall came at him again. He was sliding. He was a missile of mud.

Alex knew he couldn’t turn fast enough on the wet grass.

So he used the water.

He scooped the ball up.

He juggled it while running.

Knee. Foot. Head.

The Wall slid underneath him. A torpedo that missed its target.

Alex kept the ball in the air.

He was playing "The Floor is Lava" (or "The Floor is Mud").

He flicked the ball over Casemiro’s head.

He was on the edge of the box.

He let the ball drop.

He hit it on the volley.

The ball skimmed across the wet grass like a stone on a lake.

Onana dived.

But the ball accelerated on the water.

It slid under his hand.

GOAL.

Two one. Arsenal.

Alex stood there, rain dripping from his nose.

"Aquaplaning!" Alex shouted.

Rico jumped on his back. "You are a seal! A magical seal!"

"I am adapting to the environment!" Alex laughed.

United tried to fight back. But the rain was too heavy. Their long balls got stuck in puddles.

Arsenal played smart. They kept the ball in the air.

Ninetieth minute.

Injury time.

Milo ran onto the pitch.

He was wearing a yellow rain poncho and holding a rubber dinghy.

"THE LIFEGUARD!" Milo screamed. "MAN OVERBOARD! ALEX! I AM SAVING YOU FROM DROWNING IN GLORY! I AM SELLING LIFE JACKETS! SAFETY CERTIFIED! (By me!)."

"Milo, get off the pitch!" the referee shouted.

"I AM ON PATROL!" Milo yelled, blowing a whistle.

The final whistle blew.

Arsenal 2. Manchester United 1.

The Community Shield was theirs.

The first trophy of the new era.

Alex walked up the steps. He was soaked to the bone.

He lifted the silver shield.

It was heavy. It was wet. It was beautiful.

Mark stood next to him. He was wearing the shield as an umbrella.

"It keeps the rain off!" Mark said. "Practical trophy!"

Alex looked at the fans.

They were singing his name.

He looked at his phone in the dressing room.

A text from Maya.

"Hydrodynamic analysis: Excellent. You utilized the surface tension of the water to increase ball velocity. Also, I am at Oxford. The library is huge. I have found a book on advanced game theory. Prepare yourself for next season."

Alex smiled.

Advanced Game Theory.

He liked the sound of that.

He looked at Mark.

Mark was eating a wet sandwich he found in his bag.

"Hey Professor," Mark said.

"Yeah?"

"Now that we can drive... can we go to a drive-thru?"

"We are in a stadium, Mark."

"I saw a burger van outside," Mark said. "I will drive the team bus through it."

"Please do not drive the team bus, Mark."

"I am a licensed driver!" Mark insisted. "I know how to parallel park a bus!"

Alex shook his head.

School was out. But the lessons never stopped.

Life was just one big classroom.

And Alex Finch was the head boy.

"Let’s go," Alex said. "To the bus. But I am driving."

"Fine," Mark grumbled. "But I choose the music."

"No opera," Alex said.

"Fine. We will listen to the engine. Vroom vroom."

The Dynasty rolled on.