Chapter 236: Aftermath
The crowd’s cheers still rang around the stadium as Crawley’s players jogged back toward the center of the pitch.
Max shook hands with a few Bournemouth defenders, acknowledging their effort and shared a brief word with one of their forwards.
Ellis walked alongside Dev, both quietly laughing about a close chance from earlier in the ga. Nearby, Kieron gave a thumbs-up to a Bournemouth midfielder, who smiled back, a simple sign of respect after a tough match.
At the edge of the pitch, Niels walked over to the Bournemouth coach and shook his hand firmly.
"Good ga," Niels said with a slight smile. "Your team pressed well, especially in the first half. You made us work for it."
The opposing coach let out a small chuckle as he wiped sweat from his brow. "You handled the triangle well. Max made it look easy when it counted."
Niels nodded. "He’s a reliable captain. But today was a full team effort. Enjoy the rest of your day, we’ll see you next ti at your ho."
With the formalities done, the players made their way toward the tunnel.
Inside the locker room, the mood was lighter than on the pitch, though the adrenaline was still there.
Water bottles knocked against benches, towels hung over shoulders, and the sll of sweat blended with a faint hint of disinfectant.
"Did you see Adam’s save on that low one?" Dev shouted over the noise, throwing a damp towel toward the keeper. "I thought it was in!"
Adam grinned, peeling off his gloves. "I just didn’t want to have to listen to you lot moan if we conceded."
Niels stood at the front with his arms folded, looking over the group.
"Well done today, everyone," he said. "You stayed calm under pressure, stuck to the plan, and delivered when it mattered. That goal was perfect not just from Max, but from the build-up by Ellis, Dev, and Kieron. It worked because of the teamwork."
He paused, his gaze sweeping the room. "However, the transition in the first fifteen minutes was too slow. We were lucky not to be two goals down before we found our feet. We won’t always have the luxury of a slow start."
The players glanced at one another, so smiling, others quietly proud.
"But rember," Niels went on, "this isn’t the ti to switch off. There’s always sothing to improve. Stay focused, keep talking to each other, and make sure we start the next match the way we finished this one."
A low murmur of agreent moved through the room. Max gave Ellis a firm pat on the shoulder. "Good work today keeping that triangle sharp, we’ll need it again."
Ellis stayed in his spot for a mont longer than the others. He watched Max chatting with Harry, the captain still looking as composed as he did during the coin toss.
For the first ti, it didn’t feel like a group trying to prove sothing it felt like a team that already knew who they were.
One by one, the players began to drift away. So went straight to the showers, others to their lockers, while a few stayed behind, quietly replaying monts from the match in their minds.
Ellis lingered for a mont, looking at the whiteboard covered in formation notes.
The adrenaline still buzzed in his chest, but underneath it, sothing steadier had taken hold confidence, earned not just from the win, but from how they played.
The noise faded, but the feeling stayed, a quiet certainty that this was only the beginning.
Niels left the locker room once the noise began to fade behind him. The corridor felt calr, the distant hum of the stadium replacing the earlier chaos as he headed toward his office.
Thomas fell into step beside him, tablet tucked under his arm.
"Good performance," Thomas said. "They followed the plan almost perfectly."
Niels gave a small nod. "They trusted it. That’s the difference. A few weeks ago, they would’ve forced things."
They walked past staff mbers packing equipnt, exchanging quick greetings. The adrenaline of the match still lingered, but Niels’s mind was already moving forward.
"How’s Jamal looking?" he asked.
Thomas glanced down at his notes. "dical team cleared him for partial team training next week. Conditioning is ahead of schedule."
Niels slowed slightly, considering that.
"Match fitness?"
"Not there yet," Thomas replied. "Physically strong, but timing and sharpness will take a bit. Another two weeks before we can even think about minutes."
Niels nodded again. Jamal’s absence had been clear, especially during transitions. The team had adjusted, but so movents still missed his natural instinct.
Still, Kieron had stepped up well. Though less experienced, he had taken responsibility without hesitation and grown into the role match by match.
"We don’t need to rush him," Niels said firmly. "Last thing we need is a relapse."
"Agreed," Thomas replied. "But the players know he’s close. Morale lifts when he’s around training."
They reached the office door. Niels pushed it open, stepping inside as the quieter world of tactics boards and scouting reports replaced the roar of the stadium.
He set his notebook on the desk.
"When he cos back," Niels said, leaning against the table, "we ease him in. Fifteen minutes first. Maybe from the bench when the ga is controlled."
Thomas smiled slightly. "You already have the scenario planned."
Niels allowed himself a faint grin. "Always."
He looked toward the tactics board, his eyes settling on the midfield shape.
"Jamal changes our options," he added. "Not just quality but flexibility as well. And Kieron’s developnt gives us depth now. He earned that."
Thomas nodded. "Competition pushes everyone."
"Exactly."
Outside, the last echoes of supporters leaving the stadium faded away. The match was over, but in Niels’s mind, it had already rolled into the next one.
"One ga done," he said quietly. "Now we build the next step... with Jamal back in the picture."
Niels sank into his chair, running a hand through his hair. He pulled up the squad report on his tablet, scanning injury updates, training notes, and upcoming fixtures. Even with today’s win, there was no ti to get comfortable.
Thomas leaned against the desk, watching him. "We’ll need to monitor Kieron closely too. He handled Jamal’s role well, but the intensity will increase once Jamal’s back."
Niels nodded, tapping a few notes into the tablet. "Right. He’s showing promise, but he still needs guidance. Minutes in controlled situations, not full pressure yet. He can handle responsibility, but we can’t burn him out."
Thomas chuckled lightly. "Sounds like you’re ready to manage the whole league by yourself."
Niels smirked. "Soone has to. And I’d rather it be planned than left to chance. Every choice matters. Every player matters."
A pause hung between them, then Niels leaned forward, pointing at the tactics board.
"Next week, we reintegrate Jamal slowly. First in training, then controlled minutes. anwhile, Kieron keeps his confidence growing. By the next big fixture, the midfield should be sharper than ever. Balance, flexibility, options that’s how we keep climbing."
Thomas nodded, impressed despite himself. "And the others?"
"They see it too," Niels said. "Team morale isn’t just about wins. It’s about knowing we’ve got each other, cover when soone’s out, and growth when soone steps up. Kieron proved that today. Jamal coming back just adds another layer. Everyone pushes each other forward."
Outside, the stadium was nearly empty now, the sun dipping lower over the stands.
Inside, Niels and Thomas worked quietly, thodically. The win was done. The next problem was already waiting.
"One step at a ti," Niels murmured. "That’s how you leave everyone else behind."
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