Ryota San-Rin

This lightning-fast Japanese marksman possesses an arrogant genius for finishing, though his heavy first touch often leaves him tripping over his own feet like a newborn giraffe. Before every whistle, he religiously insists on reciting a haiku to a piece of cold toast, a bizarre ritual that has his exasperated teammates convinced he has completely lost his marbles. Despite the clumsiness, he remains the most clinical assassin on the pitch, oozing enough confidence to fuel a jet engine.