From A Producer To A Chapter 199: Meeting with Coaches

Chapter 199: eting with Coaches

Richard woke up earlier than usual. Even before the sun ca up, he was already dressed and pacing around his living room. He felt everything at once — excitent, nervousness, confusion, and sowhere underneath it all, a quiet happiness.

Today was his first official day standing before the national coaching staff as the new Head Coach of the United States National Swimming Team.

He arrived at the national stadium thirty minutes before the eting. The hall was large, bright, and already filled with coaches murmuring among themselves. These were seasoned n and won, so who had been in this system longer than Richard had even been alive. They weren’t going to be easy to convince.

Richard walked in calmly, his face completely neutral. No emotion. No smile. No hesitation.

The mont he stepped inside, conversations died down. A few recognized him instantly, and their whispers spread across the hall. So were surprised. Others hesitant. A few looked annoyed.

Richard stepped forward, took the mic, and tapped it twice.

Tap. Tap.

The room went silent.

"Good morning," he began. "So of you know . Most of you don’t. But every one of you has heard sothing — either about

or about the athletes I’ve worked with."

He scanned the room slowly, letting his presence settle.

"The reason we’re here is simple. As of today, I am the Head Coach of the United States National Swimming Team."

A ripple of shock moved through the hall.

Richard raised a hand. "Before anything continues, if you don’t want to work with , you can walk out right now. No penalty. No punishnt. Your salary stays intact. You leave with your dignity."

Heads turned. Whispers rose.

But nobody moved.

Richard nodded once. "Good."

He continued, steady and firm. "I’ll be direct. This year’s Olympics will be one of the toughest in U.S. history. We all know why. We lost coaches, we lost structure, and we lost most athletes due to the drug scandal. We were supposed to be preparing to go to the Olympics, yet now we have to redo the trials of so specific categories, and we need at least a month or two."

He paused deliberately.

"Instead... we were given two weeks."

The entire room murmured. So shook their heads. One coach raised his voice, "Two weeks isn’t even enough to hold trials for this competition!"

Another added, "We don’t have the ti, the structure, or the system—"

Richard hit the mic lightly again. Tap.

Silence.

"Exactly," he said. "We don’t have ti for traditional trials. So we are not doing traditional trials."

Coaches exchanged confused glances.

Richard signaled to his assistant. Boxes of printed booklets were carried down each row and passed out.

"In your hands," Richard said, "are the athletes I have chosen to represent the United States for this Olympic cycle."

Gasps filled the room.

"WHAT?!"

"This is impossible!"

"So of these athletes don’t even have Olympic Tis!"

"How can you pick people who haven’t qualified?!"

Richard allowed the noise for a few seconds, then he shut it down:

Tap. Tap.

"You’re all asking how these athletes qualify without OQT, right?" Richard said. "Good. I’ll explain."

He lowered the mic slightly and leaned forward, tone firm.

" and my team analyzed every available athlete. We studied their past races, strengths, weaknesses, recovery rates, habits, and potential ceilings. These nas," he tapped the booklet, "are swimrs who already have the raw ability to reach Olympic standard — but they lack fine tuning."

He held up two fingers.

"And we have two weeks to fix that."

One coach scoffed loudly, "Two weeks?! That’s a joke—"

Richard cut in imdiately. "Two weeks is what we have. So two weeks is what we use. I’m just stating the facts."

He continued.

"The Olympic Committee will send evaluators. They will test these swimrs internally. Whoever hits the ti — goes. Whoever doesn’t — stays ho."

He pointed at the booklet.

"Each of you has been assigned athletes according to your past experience and coaching specialty. Their weaknesses are listed. Their strengths are listed. Your job is to correct those weaknesses and push them past the line."

He straightened.

"I am giving you every resource you will need — nutrition, physiotherapists, recovery tech, pool access, ti slots, dical checks. Everything."

The room quieted.

Richard’s voice hardened.

"But if you know you cannot deliver in two weeks... leave now. Because after these two weeks, if your athlete does not et the required standard, you are out of this team."

A few people gasped sharply. Others clenched their jaws.

Richard wasn’t smiling.

"I don’t care what you think about my approach. I don’t care what you think about the pressure. Desperate tis call for desperate asures. And right now, we are desperate."

He paused again.

"We either rebuild the team... or we collapse on the world stage."

Another wave of murmurs moved around the hall. They weren’t happy. They weren’t comfortable. But none of them moved for the door.

Richard said with a small nod, "no one is leaving?. Good."

He stepped away from the podium slightly.

"Let

make sothing very clear. We are not doing this for pride, ego, rivalry, or personal beef. We are doing this for the United States. For the athletes who sacrificed years. For the flag they wear when they swim."

His voice softened just a little.

"I know exactly how this feels. I have been thrown out of this system before. I have been frad. I have been ruined. And yet here I am again, choosing to rebuild the sa team that abandoned ."

Every coach fell silent.

"This is my redemption arc. And it might be yours too. We’re either going to walk into Paris as underdogs who shocked the world... or we’re going to walk in as the team that drowned before reaching the ocean."

He nodded at them.

"You now know your athletes. You know your assignnts. You know the deadline."

Richard turned slightly.

"I’ve sent emails to each athlete. They should start arriving soon. Once they arrive, your two-week clock begins."

He took a step back from the microphone.

"In two weeks, we will et here again. And I will evaluate every result myself."

"And rember, stay away from using anything implicating because eyes are on us now."

A long pause.

"eting dismissed."

Richard walked out with the sa calm expression he ca in with.

Behind him, the hall exploded into confused chatter, buzzing frustration, reluctant acceptance — but also sothing else:

A spark.

The beginning of sothing big.

And none of them knew that the spark ca from one athlete in particular.

Dayo.