Chapter 8 — Across the Six Meter Line

Tran Luan used two watches to replay the semi-final match, but six seconds did not return. He ran the electronic board in the empty room, turned on the transmitter and then transmitted the lights, simulating the referee's beep and the pause of the scorer's desk. Every time the board stands, the moment is different.

“I couldn't find a single mistake,” Luan said.

Chi stood next to him, writing in the notebook. “So don't find just one mistake.”

“The organizers want to know if it will take six seconds.”

“We can say the data is not enough to confirm the six seconds that were displayed and counted together.”

Luan turned back. “That will make them angry.”

“Time doesn't change because they're angry.”

Diep added a portable power source. She knew the arena couldn't replace the entire board before the match. The spare battery pack is enough to keep the panel lit, but not enough for the entire sound system. Must give priority to one of the two when power is lost.

“If table priority?” Luan asked.

“The audience hears the whistle but there are no speakers.”

“If speakers are priority?”

“The board can be turned off.”

Chi said: "So don't give priority to emotions. Set up a procedure: the referee and the table use a clock, the board only displays. If the board is turned off, the match will continue according to the confirmed source."

Luan wrote. “Who clicked?”

“Two people.”

“What if it's wrong?”

“Stop when the ball is dead, compare with the mechanical clock.”

“What if the difference is in the last six seconds?”

Chi looked at him. "Stop and record. No guessing."

The test session included Manh, Diep and two Hong Ha representatives. Khoa holds the ball but does not play. They want to know if a technical system serves both teams or just makes the home team feel secure.

Luan started three tries. The first time was fine. Times two pounds slower than a clock. The third time the transmitter switched load, the panel went dark for half a second and then turned back on at 00:06.

Khoa asked: "What if this is a real match?"

“The referee said stop,” Luan said.

“If the ball is flying?”

"Wait for the ball to be dead unless there is a danger. The clock is still running."

Khoa looked at Chi. “So if the board stands but the clock doesn't stand?”

“That's why it takes two people to write.”

Manh stood outside, listening to how they talked about the match as a series of conditions, not a straight line. He said players also need to know the procedure so as not to argue with the table when the ball is dead.

On the field, Tram practices receiving the ball outside the line. Chi stood next to the tape, not fixing each step. Vy stood in the goal, calling the distance.

"Three meters. Two. Stop."

Tram receives, jumps, throws. The ball hits the net. She landed six meters outside the zone.

“Again,” Vy said.

“You did the right thing.”

“Doing it right once is not a skill.”

Tram ran again. The third time, she stepped in half a foot. No referee blew, but Chi scored. Tram is angry.

“If no one blows it, is it as if it didn't happen?”

Chi replied: "In the match, the decision belongs to the referee. In practice, we write down so we know what to correct."

“I feel like I'm being punished forever.”

Vy said: "I'm learning not to punish myself when I'm wrong."

Tram shut up, then did it again.

Vi arrived ten minutes late because the bakery lost power. She brought her phone and a pair of dry socks.

"I'm sorry."

Manh asked: "Do we need to change practice shifts?"

“No. I can run.”

Vi looked at the plan and chose a longer but low-intensity warm-up. Chi asked who taught her how to calculate strength.

“If you don't count, your body will.”

Manh crossed out a line in the lesson plan, adding break time. No one turned Vi's night shift into inspiration. They consider it a condition that must be designed into the battle.

In the evening, the semi-final results have not yet been announced. One article posted online saying that Lightning is trying to prolong it for fear of Hong Ha's objections. Khoa sent a photo and asked Chi if she wanted to respond.

“No,” Chi said. “We only release sealed data.”

“If you stay silent, people will speak for you.”

"So post a sentence: two teams have requested independent testing. No more."

Khoa followed. The short sentence left many people disappointed because there was no winning side to cheer for. Huyen? No, Chi doesn't use words. But Luan told her that data is not always supposed to entertain.

At night, Diep went to check the floor. She discovered that the anti-slip tape at the seam was peeling at one corner. Rain outside makes the air moist, but the field remains dry. Diep called someone to replace him immediately, then took before and after pictures.

“If no one skates tomorrow, people will say there's extra ice,” she said.

Chi replied: "If someone slips tomorrow, there will be no more ice left."

Diep looked at her. “Both sentences are difficult to include in the report.”

“Reporting is not always easy.”

The next morning, the organizing committee sent the meeting schedule for verification. Each team has the right to send people, table data and power sources to be viewed together. The results are not final yet. Lightning still practiced the finals as if there was a match, but did not hang slogans in the room.

“We prepare technically and mentally for both possibilities,” Manh said.

Vi asked if she would get a break if she got kicked back.

“Don't know,” he said.

“So how should we calculate it?”

“Calculate based on current information, then adjust as new information becomes available.”

Chi listened and realized the team was learning the same thing in many places: not knowing is not standing still. It is a state that requires process.

Luan put two clocks on the table. The red needle of a mechanical watch moves slowly but evenly. Jump hands clocks are more accurate but depend on the person pressing them. The electronic board is bright and beautiful, but can remember a lost moment.

He stuck a note between the three devices: “No device can be the sole witness.”

Chi kept the paper. Tomorrow, the team will know whether they win, play again or are asked to wait. But whatever the outcome, six seconds is no longer an anonymous number. It has logs, it has sources, it has witnesses and a team begins to understand that justice does not appear just because the whistle blows.

Luan couldn't sleep. He lay in his room, listening to the sound of rain on the corrugated iron roof and remembering every time the electronic board did not do what was expected. Sometimes it's slow because the stop button is stuck. Sometimes the operator presses again to correct the number. There are times when the power supply drops, causing the screen to turn off but the mechanical watch is still running. There are also times when people looking at the board only remember the last number and forget the previous number.

The next morning, he wrote eight possibilities on a piece of paper:

Power source.

Button.

Delay signal.

Operator.

Missing battery.

No logs.

No one confirmed.

And memory.

Luan circled the last line the longest. Memory is not a technical error, but it is where technical errors lurk when people recount a match.

Chi met him in the storage room. Luan took two mechanical watches from the gym, a hand press and a control panel. He arranged them on the table, connecting temporary wires.

“Can I take it off?” Chi asked.

“Diep knows.”

“That's good.”

“What if I screw up?”

“Record.”

Luan looked at her. “You can't use that for everything.”

“Everything can be tested.”

They run the test. The electronic board starts at 30:00. Mechanical watch runs. Hanh stood two meters away, timing with the device private. After five minutes, Luan stopped the board. The mechanical watch stops one beat slow. Hanh reads landmarks. Luan noted.

“Why do we need two mechanical watches?” Hanh asked.

“One might break.”

“Two things of the same kind can be the same.”

"So an independent source is not just one more device. Someone has to read it and compare it."

Chi nodded. Luan began speaking like someone building a process, not someone trying to save a screen.

In the afternoon, they held a simulation match. Hanh sat at the main table. Chi deliberately sat in a position where she couldn't see the entire screen. Luan installed the board half a second late. Manh asked the team to play normally and not wait for outsiders to fix it.

Tram ran into the middle and was hit on the shoulder by the simulator. She looked at the board and saw 12 seconds left, but heard Hanh say 11. She almost stopped.

“Continue to follow the whistle,” Vy called.

Brooch necklace. Vi scored. Hanh stops the clock and reports the difference. The simulated referee stops the match after the ball dies. No one argues because the results have been recorded according to each milestone.

The second time, Luan intentionally left the board turned off. There was no audience, but the sound of the machine turning off still startled Tram.

“Let's keep playing,” Manh said.

Hanh raised his hand to signal. "The main clock is still running. The board lost the signal. I recorded it."

Chi sat still. Hanh turned to her once, then returned to the record himself.

On the third time, Hanh mistakenly pressed the button to stop early. She immediately said: "I clicked early, not confirmed yet."

Luan kept the mechanical watch and did not repair it himself. The simulated referee asks for time. Hanh read. Chi wanted to speak, but Hanh handled it. She just added on the edge of the paper: "Wrong operation, detected immediately, not used as a result."

After the simulation, the whole team sits around the field. Manh asked what they saw. Vi said when the ball is running, players cannot see three sources at the same time. Vy said the goalkeeper needs to listen to the orders, not follow the scoreboard. Tram said hearing "unconfirmed" made her less afraid than hearing adults stay silent. Hanh said the timekeeper should have the right to stop arguing, not stop the match at will. Luan said the electronic board must have operation marks.

Just write it all down on a protocol sheet:

One, before the match check the source and the person responsible.

Second, when there is a difference, call it a difference before concluding.

Three, do not edit the time without a confirmed final date.

Four, prioritize independent sources agreed.

Five, all objections are recorded, not argued out loud instead of in the minutes.

Six, safety risks have the right to stop the match.

Hanh read it and asked: "Who has the right to speak first?"

Chi replied: “The one with the closest data.”

“What if two people have the same data?”

“The person has been assigned.”

“What if that person is afraid?”

“The other person reminded, but did not speak for him.”

Luan added a line: "Don't let the electronic board be the only source."

Tram wrote at the bottom: "Don't let the player be the last person asked about his own body."

No one corrected that sentence.

In the evening, Khoa sent a text message to inform Hong Ha that he had also tried a similar protocol. She asked if the two teams could use the same minutes form. Chi passed the proposal to Diep. Diep replied that the new model will be printed in two colors, one copy for each team.

On the way home, Chi and Vy walked side by side. Vy asked: "Do you think you can trust the scoreboard in the next match?"

"Have."

“How much to believe?”

“Enough to see it, not enough to ignore the person next to you.”

Vy laughed. “This sentence sounds like a slogan.”

“If you do it long enough, slogans become habits.”

Behind them, Luan turned off all the devices. The board displays 00:00, The mechanical watch also stops. He took pictures, recorded the time, and signed the log. No one told you what to do. He just wanted that tomorrow, regardless of the outcome, six seconds would no longer be in the memory of just one person.