During the dynamic stretches, Coach Miller kept a keen eye on everyone, offering quiet corrections, occasionally making a note on his clipboard. Leon focused on his form, rembering his mother's words: enjoy it.
Next ca the drills. Short, sharp passing exercises. Cone dribbling. Shooting practice. Leon found his rhythm quickly. His touches were clean, his passes precise. He noticed Byon's natural flair shining through in the dribbling drills, his feet a blur as he weaved through cones.
"Nice touch, Byon!" Coach Miller called out, a rare smile on his face.
Byon bead, his Current score montarily flickering up by a single point, from 72 to 73, Leon noticed. Small. It showed that recognition helped.
During shooting practice, Leon aid for the corners, trying to place the ball with surgical precision. He watched Marcus, the powerful striker, take his turn.
The ball exploded off Marcus's foot, a cannonball that rocketed into the top corner, rattling the net. His Current score looked solid at 71.
Leon's turn ca. He took a few steps back, focused, and struck the ball. It curled, a beautiful arc, just kissing the inside of the post before nestling in the net.
Coach Miller gave a brief, approving nod.
As the drills wound down, Coach Miller gathered them in a huddle.
"Alright, lads, now for the fun part. We're going to play a match. Thirty minutes each way. Two teams."
He quickly split them up, assigning bibs. Leon found himself on the red team, with Byon, Thomas, Ethan and Marcus. Liam was on the opposing blue team.
"This isn't about winning or losing," Coach Miller explained, though his eyes held a competitive glint. "It's about how you play. How you communicate. How you adapt. Show what you can do under pressure."
Leon looked at his teammates.
Thomas, Potential: 91, Current: 74, was a rock at the back.
Ethan, Potential: 90, Current: 73, radiated creativity in midfield.
Marcus, Potential: 87, Current: 71, was a clear threat up front.
And Byon, Potential: 90, Current: 73, offered pace and trickery on the wing. This was a strong team.
The blue team, however, also had formidable players.
Liam, Potential: 89, Current: 72, would be a constant nace on the wing.
Their central midfielder, a stocky, tireless player nad Charlie, had a surprising Potential: 86, Current: 70. He seed to cover every blade of grass.
The whistle blew, signalling kickoff. Leon, playing in his preferred central midfield role, received the ball from Marcus. He imdiately scanned the field, processing not just the positions of players, but the faint numbers above their heads. He saw Liam racing forward, ready to press.
Leon quickly passed back to Thomas, who calmly shifted the ball to their left-back. The red team began to build from the back, patient and composed. Leon knew the blue team would try to disrupt their rhythm, especially Charlie, who seed to be everywhere.
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