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Chapter 187: Waiting for Tomorrow

November 23rd, 2010

The night before the match always felt different.

The lights at Broadfield Stadium had gone dark hours ago, but the city around it was still awake.

In their apartnts, hotel rooms, and quiet family hos, the players rested but sleep didn’t co easy.

[Thiago’s POV]

I sat on the edge of my bed, leaning forward with my phone to my ear.

The room was quiet, except for the soft hum of the air conditioner.

"Yeah, Mãe... I’m good. Just tired," I said quietly. I smiled a little, even though she couldn’t see it.

Sohow, just hearing her voice made it feel like she was right there with .

Her voice ca through the speaker, soft and warm, like a comforting hug. She didn’t ask many questions, she didn’t need to.

She told to take a long breath, and believe in myself, and keep going.

Just hearing her say those small, simple things the kind only a mother knows how to say made my chest feel lighter.

When the call ended, I stayed still for a mont, holding the phone before putting it down on the nightstand.

I leaned back and relaxed into the mattress, letting out a slow breath as I looked up at the ceiling.

My body hurt, my legs were heavy and my muscles sore.

But it wasn’t a bad pain.

It was the kind that ant I’d worked hard.

That I had given it my all today.

The kind that reminded why I started all this in the first place.

I reached over and switched off the lamp. The room went dark, except for a little light from the city coming through the blinds.

I said it like a challenge, Let’s go all in.

Tomorrow is a big day. I just have to keep going, one step at a ti.

[Max’s POV]

I sat on the floor, leaning against the couch.

The captain’s armband was next to , right by my phone, like it was waiting for .

I picked it up and looked at it, feeling how important it was.

Then I made the call.

"Max," Coach Milan answered. His voice was calm, steady, and familiar, it brought back to where this all began.

"Hey, coach."

"I knew you’d call," he said.

I smiled. "You always know."

There was a pause.

"You ready?"

I looked down at the armband in my hand. "Yeah. I think so."

Coach’s voice stayed calm. "You don’t have to do it with words tomorrow. You never did. Just be yourself. That’s always been enough."

His words hit harder than I thought they would.

It’s not just about being , it’s about leading the team, carrying their hopes, and pushing us all to win.

"Thanks, coach. For everything."

He smiled in his voice. "You already thanked the day you took the armband."

I didn’t say anything else.

There was a pause, then Coach said, "Rember, it’s not about being perfect. It’s about being there for your team. Trust them like they trust you."

I nodded, even though he couldn’t see .

"Lead by what you do," he said. "How you play, how you support the team when things get tough. That’s what a captain does."

I took a deep breath and felt the weight on my shoulders.

"I won’t let you down," I said, sounding more sure.

Coach’s voice softened. "I know you won’t. And rember, you’re never alone out there. Your team is with you."

"Thanks, coach. For believing in ."

"Always, Max. Get so rest now. Tomorrow is big day."

After we hung up, I held the armband for a mont, thinking about the ga, the crowd, the pressure, and the chance to show we can win.

I put the armband down by my gear, stood up, and turned off the lights.

Tomorrow is more than just a ga.

Tomorrow, it’s my ti to lead.

Tomorrow, we fight side by side.

[Jamal’s POV]

Dinner was quiet tonight.

I helped clear the table with my little sister, and even she didn’t ask about the match.

She already knew.

After that, I sat outside in the backyard for a while.

The stars were out, and the air felt calm, the kind of calm that cos right before sothing big.

I took out my phone and opened a photo, the one from Leverkusen.

Everyone was smiling, faces sweaty but full of joy.

I smiled too.

Not because we won that day, but because we never gave up.

I stood up, stretched, and whispered to the night, "Tomorrow, we finish what we started."

[Dev’s POV]

I sat on my bed, holding an old notebook, one of the first I used when I joined the academy.

The handwriting was ssy, the drills were simple, but it reminded how far I’ve co.

I don’t say much, but tonight I sent a voice ssage to a friend back ho.

"I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow... but I’m ready. I really am."

Then I lay back down, the notebook still open on the bed beside .

Just one deep breath.

The kind you take before the lights go on.

Then, I closed my eyes and went to sleep.

[Niels’s POV]

I sat at the kitchen table, tea in my hand, thinking about the ga tomorrow.

I went over different plans in my head about how we could change our defense, or push harder in the middle of the field.

I tried to imagine what the other team might do.

I couldn’t see the field from here, but I could picture it clearly the grass, the lines, the bright lights.

Tomorrow won’t be easy.

We need to be sharp and ready for anything.

Every pass and every move will count.

I put my notes down.

Now, it’s about staying calm and trusting the team.

"Tomorrow, we need to win," I said quietly to myself and stood up.

I took a deep breath. Then I turned off the kitchen light and headed to bed.

I needed to rest, tomorrow would be everything.

The next morning, sunlight ca through the window.

I woke up feeling nervous but ready.

Today was the big day.

I got out of bed, ready to guide my team.

Before sunrise, the team t at the training ground.

The air was cool and quiet.

Everyone felt the calm before the big day.

They stretched and jogged slowly, keeping to themselves.

Afterwards, they ate a simple breakfast toast, eggs, and fruit salad.

So players talked softly, others stayed quiet.

Niels moved through the room quietly, knowing when to speak and when to stay silent.

The morning passed slowly.

So players watched match videos.

Others listened to music or took short naps. Everyone stayed focused, saving their energy for the ga.

At 4:30 PM, the team got on the bus to Broadfield Stadium.

Fans were already outside, waving scarves and cheering.

Inside the bus, it was quiet. So leaned their heads against the windows.

Others closed their eyes or listened to music.

Dev tapped his foot nervously.

Max leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

Jamal stared straight ahead, lost in thought.

Thiago sat by the window, clenching his fists slowly, like he was already chasing the ball.

When the bus pulled up to Broadfield Stadium, the noise from the crowd grew louder.

The team stepped off and walked toward the locker room.

Jerseys hung neatly on hooks.

Boots were lined up, ready.

The tension was brewing.

Niels ca in behind them, calm and steady.

He looked around the room, letting everyone feel the mont.

He didn’t say anything at first. He just looked at his players young, strong, and ready.

Then he spoke quietly but clearly. "This ga ans everything we’ve worked for. All the practice and hard work cos down to this."

He paused so everyone could feel it.

"We’re not just playing for ourselves. We play for each other and for the fans who believe in us."

He looked at each player.

"Now, listen this is how we win."

He tapped the whiteboard.

"First, defense. Their wingers are fast and like to cut inside. Jamal, as the pivot, stay alert and help block their runs through the middle. Dev, press their wingers early and push them out wide, so they can’t get easy chances."

He looked at Paul Pogba.

"Paul, control the pace. Get the ball, switch it around. Break their shape. If they press high, punish them."

He pointed at Tom.

"Tom, cover as much as you can. Help Jamal on defense, help Pogba going forward. Be the team’s engine."

He circled the sides.

"Reece, push forward hard. Overlaps are key. Pass early when Max runs. Callum, stay strong on the left. Don’t get pushed around, but pass to Thiago when he cuts inside."

He turned to the attackers.

"Thiago, be bold. Use your speed. Don’t hesitate. If you see space, go for it. Nate, link the play. Find Max early. Make their defenders choose mark you, or leave Max free."

His eyes t Dev’s again.

"Dev, this is your ga. They’ll double-team you. Don’t force it. Draw them in, pass to Nate or Thiago, then join the attack late. Put the team first. Your chance will co."

He tapped the penalty box on the board.

"And Max, you know what to do. One good chance is all you need. Be patient."

Niels put down the marker.

"Tactics guide us, but heart wins. Trust each other. Fight for each other. Do that, and tonight is ours."

The room fell silent for a mont after Niels finished.

Then, one by one, they looked up at Niels.

"Let’s do this!" Max said quietly.

A few others joined in, their voices growing louder.

Then the whole room burst into a powerful cheer strong, full of energy, and ready for battle.

This was their mont.

They were ready to give everything.

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