AI Tactics, World Cup Tragedy

The next morning, Mauricio set up a projector beside the practice field.

The screen played TactiGenie's 3D animation of the Invincible Spiral on repeat.

The faceless virtual players in the video glided across the field. Before every pass, they spun in place a full 360 degrees.

"Everyone, watch carefully!"

Mauricio shouted through a megaphone.

"The spin before the pass is meant to confuse the opponent and ruin their defensive judgment!"

He slapped the tactics board as he continued, "This is the optimal solution calculated by AI. The human brain could never come up with this!"

Mauricio needed a miracle more than anyone.

He had coached for over a decade, yet his results had always been disappointing.

TactiGenie had given him a chance to turn his career around.

At the back of the team stood assistant coach Miguel Wolff, his brows tightly furrowed. Finally, he couldn't hold back anymore and raised his hand.

"Coach Hudson, this spinning pass won't work in a real match. Just turning around takes at least a second. The other team's defensive midfielder isn't going to stand there doing nothing. They'll steal the ball long before the pass is made."

Mauricio's face darkened. He turned around and slammed the tactics board onto the table.

"Who knows more, you or AI?" he snapped. "Have you analyzed 30 million matches? Can your two years coaching a local club compare to the world's most advanced AI?"

Miguel's face turned bright red.

He wanted to argue back, but the words wouldn't come out.

Tim stepped forward.

"Miguel, if you're going to keep opposing us, then pack your things and leave.

"We don't need negative people like you."

The whole field fell silent.

More than 20 national team players lowered their heads.

Not a single person spoke up for Miguel.

Miguel slowly lowered his hand.

From that day on, he never spoke again during any tactical meeting.

That afternoon, I stood at the edge of the field with a crutch during the scrimmage.

Right winger Brenden Wynalda received a long pass from the backfield.

After trapping the ball, he began spinning in place awkwardly.

Before he could even finish half a turn, the defender rushed over and poked the ball away.

Brenden panicked and tried to shield the ball.

Instead, he lost his balance and crashed onto the grass.

He grabbed his right ankle and rolled around in pain.

Mauricio immediately raised his megaphone and roared. "Brenden, you're spinning too slowly! TactiGenie says players must complete the rotation within 0.3 seconds!"

Tim ran over and pulled Brenden to his feet.

"Your technique isn't good enough," he said loudly. "Starting today, everyone has to do extra spinning drills!"

Then he pulled out his phone on the spot.

"TactiGenie, how can a player complete a full spin in 0.3 seconds?"

The phone answered in a mechanical female voice.

"I recommend players perform 300 spinning exercises every day and apply petroleum jelly to the soles of their cleats to reduce friction."

Tim's eyes lit up.

He turned around and shouted at the equipment staff.

"Go buy 20 large jars of petroleum jelly right now!"

At eight that night, I was called to the head coach's office.

The room was thick with cigarette smoke.

Mauricio sat behind his desk, tapping the words "old Achilles injury" on my medical report with his finger.

"The team doctor says you can still play if we give you painkiller injections."

He blew out a ring of smoke and stared at me.

"You must make the roster and follow the tactics exactly. Otherwise, leave the team. And from now on, forget about ever playing for the national team again."

I stood in front of the desk and answered, "Coach Hudson, I'm willing to do as you say. But before I join the roster, I have one condition."

Mauricio frowned.

"You still dare to make demands?"

I pointed at my right leg.

"The medical staff must monitor my injury the entire time. If my condition gets worse before the match and I can't play, you can't accuse me of backing out at the last minute."

Mauricio stared at me for a few seconds.

He probably thought I had finally given in.

A cold smile appeared on his face.

"Fine."

As I turned and walked out of the room, the chilly wind in the hallway blew against my back.

Only then did I realize my shirt was already soaked with cold sweat.