Superstars of Tomorrow

Chapter 373: This Kid

Chapter 373: This Kid

Translator: Min_Lee Editor: Tennesh

Cheating was an utter disgrace in athletic competitions in Mazhou. Athletes involved in match-fixing were banned for life. You wanna keep competing? Sure, go ahead—on other continents. Mazhou no longer welcomes you. In some cases, athletes were even barred from entering Mazhou altogether.

Quite a few pundits gave their two cents on the gold-medal match, but no one could say definitely who the likely winner was. The way the match played out bore out the conflicting predictions.

The gold-medal match ended up taking three days, an average of more than five hours per day. The total length of the match was about 16 hours, which set the record for the longest championship match at the Spartacus Cup.

This was a battle of two athletes at their peak that involved not the slightest iota of showmanship or fakery. Both players were in tip-top shape and were going head-to-head in terms of technique, tactics, endurance, and mental toughness. It was the very definition of athletic competition.

"They both went all out!" Yin An marveled.

He was a casual tennis player too. But half an hour was tiring enough for him, let alone more than five hours.

"These two are certainly athletes worthy of respect," Fang Zhao said.

Fans of the two players went crazy cheering for their respective idols. Even folks who weren’t interested in either player began paying attention to the match.

One could dislike these two athletes, but one still had to give respect where respect was due.

Media coverage of the match also increased.

Taking in the match that seemed to be sapping the life out of the players, Fang Zhao realized that the two athletes probably hadn’t been kidding when they had spoken of retirement to the media before the match. They were playing their hearts out. It was impossible to play at this level if they were holding back.

The third day of play took more than seven hours.

When the match ended, the veteran Dumol glanced at the score on the big screen. He let out a huge bellow as he circled the court, tears rolling down his cheek, as if he had forgotten about his utter exhaustion.

In stark contrast was the silent Mitisy.

Mitisy was flat on his back, racket in hand. His other hand covered his eyes. He removed the hand after some time to reveal bloodshot, tearful eyes, and he gazed at the sky.

He got up, jogged over to Dumol, and hugged the man, then bowed to all four sides of the grass court and raised his hands in applause. The applause was for himself, his opponent, and the audience. He had given it his all. He was at peace with the outcome.

A melancholic rock song suggestive of farewell began playing. The hoarse vocals of the male lead seemed to speak to the passion and dedication the audience had just witnessed.

At this point, many members of the audience recovered their composure.

"Dumol should have had no regrets about retirement. He is starting to go downhill, after all. He mustered every last bit of energy he had for this match. I’m guessing it will take him at least five years to recover. But Mitisy is a different story. Is he really going to retire?"

"Really? Mitisy is so young, only 36."

In an era when life expectancy had doubled, 36 was truly quite young.

"It’s the peak of Mitisy’s career now, his golden years. He has plenty more shots at glory after this match. He is quite young, after all. He could play another 40 years if he wanted to."

"Impulsive talk. It was definitely impulsive talk. Let’s see what Mitisy’s club says. They’re not going to give up on a cash cow like Mitisy that easily. Even though he’s missing a Spartacus Cup gold medal, Mitisy has won plenty of other important titles. His popularity is only going to increase after this three-day match."

Regardless of whether Mitisy retired, the gold-medal match was a great deal for the audience. A three-day match for a single ticket. Totally worth it! Got my fix!

And as far as the journalists were concerned, there was plenty to write about. An even better deal!

"Perennial Runner-Up Loses Again!"

"’Prince of Tennis’ Misses Out on Gold Again!"

"Another Brand Ends Collaboration with Mitisy, Perennial Runner-Up Loses Another Deal!"

In Mazhou, this hub of athletic competition, the major brands preferred champions. Even though Mitisy had won quite a few titles, his lack of a Spartacus Cup gold was a missing link one couldn’t ignore. Add to that the saturated media coverage and the absence of a Spartacus title became a major, indelible black mark on his career. Journalists loved to pour salt on a wound.

After the prize presentation ceremony, amid all the talk about Mitisy’s possible retirement, Mitisy’s club announced he would be holding a press conference soon.

"Is he really going to retire?"

"I don’t get it. I really don’t. It’s just a Spartacus gold medal, after all. He can go after it again. He’s only been playing for 20 years."

"Maybe he’s lost his spirit. He’s played professionally for 20 years already, after all. Come Spartacus Cup time, he always finishes second. And it’s not that he’s a bad player. He always gives his all."

"What could he do after he retires?"

"He’ll be discriminated against as a coach. It’s too hard to shed the ’Perennial Runner-Up’ reputation. What if the ’Perennial Runner-Up’ can only produce perennial runner-ups? Plus, he’s still relatively young. If top clubs want to hire him, they’ll skimp on his pay. It’s not worth it."

"He might as well join the entertainment industry, then."

Quite a few retired athletes in Mazhou became entertainers. Considering Mitisy’s good looks and popularity, following in that tradition was a likely move.

Back in his hotel room, Yin An watched the highlights of the gold-medal match repeatedly. He wiped the tears on his face and said, "We should compose a song for them! Sigh, what a pity, Xiao Mi." Mitisy has grown on Yin An. You can’t blame him for the outcome. He tried his best.

After reading the online speculation about Mitisy’s next move after retirement, Yin An looked up Fang Zhao. "Lots of folks are saying that Xiao Mi will likely become an entertainer after retiring. Junior disciple, you have a background in the entertainment industry. See if you can lend him a helping hand. This man has suffered enough, losing the gold medal and all these endorsement deals. And he’s getting dissed and teased online left and right."

Fang Zhao pondered the request and responded, "I actually don’t think he needs my help. Given his temperament, I’m sure he’s decided on his next move."

"Uh huh. Anyway, give him some help if you can," Yin An said. He thought Fang Zhao was just making excuses, but then he realized that Mo Lang and Carter might not want Fang Zhao to have anything to do with the entertainment industry. Yin An swallowed the comment he had been about to blurt out.

Fang Zhao glanced at Yin An and continued, "Regardless of what the media is saying now, I think Mitisy’s career going forward won’t be that bad. As for the journalists knifing him now, it will backfire eventually."

Yin An didn’t take Fang Zhao’s comment seriously. He just started sighing nonstop. Yin An was quite sensitive. The thought of Mitisy’s performance in the gold-medal match, coupled with all the facetious comments online, made him awfully upset.

"I feel like crap. I’m gonna go compose to make myself feel better."

Even though Fang Zhao lamented Mitisy’s loss, he didn’t think Mitisy was someone who made rash decisions. He was someone with a clear head and a clear plan.

That night, Mitisy held a press conference at his home club.

Images of Mitisy crying after the gold-medal match dominated front-page news and newscasts. His fans were heartbroken. Now, both fan and foe alike were glued to this press conference, which was being broadcast live. They could see in the live feed that journalists from many leading sports publications were in attendance.

Mitisy’s eyes were still bloodshot. His voice broke up as he started speaking. He continued after recovering his composure.

"Looking back on my 20-year professional career, I don’t have a whole lot of complaints or anger. What I feel more is gratitude. I’ve never let down my guard in the past 20 years. Even today, I can stand proudly before you. Every step I have taken has been forceful and purposeful. In the past 20 years, I’ve borne witness to the beauty of competition as well as its cruelty. Retirement isn’t a decision I made hastily, and it’s not a compromise. I have my own private life and responsibilities. After retiring, regardless of where I end up, I’ll always be an optimist. I’d like to thank my club and my fans for their support these past 20 years. I also want to thank my coach. I’m sorry I couldn’t bring home a Spartacus gold medal for him."

Mitisy’s coach, who was sitting next to him, also turned teary eyed. His eyes were filled with sadness. When it was his turn to speak, he talked about Mitisy’s difficult journey.

"I still remember that 16-year-old showing up all alone at my doorstep, bag in hand, 20 years ago. And he stayed for two decades. At the beginning of this year, he told me, ’Coach, this is my last shot.’ He was under huge pressure. I can only imagine what he was going through. All I can say is that he has always worked his ass off. He’s as good a player as anyone out there."

How brightly Mitisy’s star had shone back in the day—his surreal rise to the top of the world rankings, his good looks, and his amazing talent. Soon, he had become one of Mazhou’s most popular sports stars, and the endorsement deals had started pouring in.

Subsequently, Mitisy had taken part in all sorts of tournaments and had won quite a few of them. The Spartacus Cup was the only exception. He had always come second. Even if he had managed to survive tough group competition in round robin, he had always ended up with silver. He had beaten every Spartacus Cup gold medalist on many occasions, but the gold medal had simply eluded him.

Eventually, the endorsement deals had dwindled. The naysayers and comics had come out of the woodwork. They hadn’t cared whether they broke Mitisy’s heart. All they had cared about was web traffic and attention.

Mitisy’s fans and critics had already engaged in several rounds of verbal combat in the early minutes of the press conference.

Taking in Mitisy’s comments at the press conference and rewatching highlights of the gold-medal match, Mitisy’s tearful fans were devastated. They felt like they couldn’t breathe. They were also extremely worried about their idol’s postretirement plans.

Meanwhile, the critics kept hitting where it hurt most.

"So he’s incompetent and we can’t even talk about it? He has only himself to blame for never landing gold. It’s his destiny."

"Who else can he blame for throwing in the towel now? If you can’t handle the pressure, if you don’t have mental toughness, why bother becoming a professional athlete?"

"Focus on the entertainment industry after retirement. Make some money so you can enjoy your twilight years."

As far as Mazhou natives were concerned, only failed or retired athletes joined the entertainment industry. In Mazhou, the most popular celebrities were athletes. Award-winning actors and actresses paled in comparison.

After Mitisy and company spoke, they took questions.

"What are your plans for after retirement?"

"Will you become an entertainer?"

"What line of work will you go into?"

"Will it be tennis related?"

Mitisy responded, "I will move to working behind the scenes."

The reporters were intrigued. There was more than met the ears.

"Are you going to start your own tennis club?" a reporter asked.

Mitisy flashed an embarrassed smile. "I don’t think I ever told everyone what my last name is."

The press pack: "???"

Even Mitisy’s coach cast him a confused glance. All these years, Mitisy had never mentioned his surname. It wasn’t printed on his ID card, so no one had ever brought up the issue. As far as most folks were concerned, his last name was irrelevant.

Mitisy cleared his throat and said, "My full name is Mitisy Maersi."

Dead silence.

Dead silence in the online discussion forums.

The fans, the critics, the journalists, everyone at the tennis club: "..."

What the f*ck did you say? What is your last name again?

The Maersis were Mazhou’s most prominent family.

Jaw dropped, Mitisy’s coach was in a daze, his expression the picture of disbelief.

Journalists that had dissed Mitisy in the past started shivering.

This kid from the Maersi family is quite something, Fang Zhao thought to himself.