Brothers, Rivals, Always Family

During the match against my brother, we went all out. Score tied 1 to 1,

intensity through the roof. The crowd had no clue who to cheer for,

me or my brother. Every touch mattered, every move calculated. We both wanted it bad,

neither backing down. Then in the final seconds, I saw my opening.

Took the shot, top corner, nothing he could do. Game over.

I won, but celebrating felt weird. He walked over, dapped me up,

said good game. That's when I realized something. Beating him meant everything and nothing

at the same time. Because at the end of the day, we're still brothers. Competition made