The next morning, the Lecce training ground was unusually buzzing. Not because it was a ga day or anything, but because the players had heard about Alex Walker’s "optional" session. And even though he had said it wasn’t mandatory, the entire squad showed up. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was respect. Maybe it was fear of being left out. Who knew? All that mattered was that they were here.
Alex stood in the middle of the pitch with a whistle in his mouth and a clipboard in his hand. It felt surreal. It had been almost a year since he’d last run a proper training session. His heart hadn’t just given out on the pitch that day in May. His confidence had too.
But this ti, he had the System.
He called everyone in and went over the basics. "We’re going to try sothing new today. A 3-4-3 shape. Compact in defense, direct in attack. This is not a drill session. It’s a test. A ga. So treat it like one."
He looked around. So raised eyebrows. A few nods. Baschirotto was already fired up. Banda looked like he was just waiting for the ball.
Alex turned to his assistant coach, Marco. "Split them up. I’ll tell you the squads."
He pulled out his clipboard and read from it.
Team Red (Starting XI):
GK: Wladimiro Falcone
CB: Marin Pongračić
CB: Federico Baschirotto
CB: Ahd Touba
RWB: Valentin Gendrey
LWB: Patrick Dorgu
CM: Ylber Ramadani
CM: Joan González
RW: Lack Banda
LW: Pontus Almqvist
ST: Nikola Krstović
Team Yellow (Second XI):
GK: Federico Brancolini
CB: Lorenzo Venuti
CB: Kastriot Dermaku
CB: Alexsandar Catic
RWB: Lorenzo Di Stefano
LWB: Antonino Gallo
CM: don Berisha
CM: Alexis Blin
RW: Mohad Kaba
LW: Santiago Pierotti
ST: Roberto Piccoli
It took a few minutes to get the players into position. The sun was already starting to heat up the turf, but Alex didn’t care. He needed to see how they played.
The whistle blew.
From the first minute, it was chaos. The players were clearly unfamiliar with the formation, but to their credit, they were trying. Gendrey and Dorgu were bombing forward like madn. Ramadani was shouting constantly, trying to cover passing lanes and organize. Banda looked like a man possessed, darting past defenders and cutting inside.
But it wasn’t all good.
Krstović missed two easy chances in the opening twenty minutes. One was a free header off a Banda cross that he sohow nodded wide. The other was a one-on-one that he scuffed straight at Brancolini.
Alex folded his arms and sighed. "Here it is," he muttered. "The first issue."
He could see it clearly. The movent was good. The structure was coming together. The wingbacks were offering width. The midfielders were creating overloads. But the forwards... they just weren’t clinical.
Banda was electric but erratic. Almqvist had good positioning but hesitated. And Krstović... well, he looked strong, but the finishing just wasn’t there today.
After thirty-five minutes, Team Yellow scored on the counter. Blin intercepted a poor pass from Touba and launched a long ball to Pierotti, who cut inside and rifled one past Falcone.
"That’s all it takes," Alex mumbled. "One lapse."
He blew the whistle. Halfti.
The players ca jogging in, sweaty and a bit confused. Alex gathered them in a circle.
"Alright. Not bad. Not perfect, either. Defensively, we look okay. Midfield’s shaping up. But up front?" He looked directly at the forwards. "We have to be killers. Period. You don’t get five chances a ga in Serie A. You get one. Maybe two. And if you can’t finish, we lose."
No one argued. They knew he was right.
He let them rest for ten minutes, made a few switches, and let them play again. This ti, he watched more than he coached.
The System buzzed in his head:
[ALERT: Offensive Efficiency below threshold - 32%]
Suggested Action: Specialized finishing drills for frontline players. Psychological reinforcent recomnded.]
He noted it down.
When the ga ended, Team Red had equalized through a scrambled corner finish by Baschirotto. 1-1. Not terrible. But not good enough either.
Alex clapped once. "Not bad for a first day. We’ll tweak so things tomorrow. Go hit the showers. Forwards, stay back."
All the forwards waited behind. It obviously had sothing to do with their performance in the small training session that they just finished. They didn’t need a soothsayer to tell them that they didn’t perform well.
"Alright, from what I watched, you lads need the most coaching in the squad". Alex said. "Even if the midfielders and defenders to their job to the maximum, at the end of the day, it’s goals that win matches".
All the forwards nodded as Alex was talking. Well, almost all...
Krstović and Kaba exchanged glances, then focused their attention on Alex. They were starting to get annoyed. Even if he was a legend in the ga, he was still just starting out as a manager. Who was he to tell them that they were below standard.
"Anyways, empty criticism doesn’t amount to anything. If you’re interested you could wait behind and we’ll work on so finishing and positioning drills. We could also find a place to et in the subsequent days since I’m technically not supposed to have started with you yet".
Everyone agreed to wait behind, but Krstović and Kaba walked away, seemingly annoyed. Krstović then muttered sothing in a language that Alex didn’t understand... but Alex didn’t need to understand the language to guess that it wasn’t sothing very nice.
He turned to everyone else, "Alright, let’s start!"
The sun was going down when they finally packed up. Banda looked gassed. Pierotti was dripping sweat. Piccoli had scored the most in the drill.
Alex scribbled so things into his notes. He kept thinking about Krstović and Kaba. He needed to et with the chairman and get them on the transfer list. He had no place for players like them in his squad. In the anti, he’d just omit them from the matchday squad... or take them along when they needed numbers.
With those thoughts, he went into his office and called out to his assistant manager.
"Marco," he said. "How good is our under-18s team?"
Marco raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
Alex smiled. "I might need options. If our starters won’t listen... maybe the kids will."
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