Chapter 2: Signs of Life
Chapter 2: Signs of Life
The Monday after that first drill, training was tighter. Snappier. There was a bit more purpose in how the players moved—less going through the motions, more spark in the routine. Niels could feel it. Not because anyone had suddenly turned into a world-beater overnight, but because, for once, someone had actually been paying attention.
Luka Radev, especially.
The teenager's pace and hunger were raw, almost reckless at times. But under Niels's quiet guidance, he was beginning to harness it. His cuts from the right wing were crisper. His shots had more venom. The cheat flickered in Niels's mind like a half-loaded screen, offering glimpses—not just of Luka's potential, but also his flaws. Still didn't track back. Still drifted when out of possession. But that was coachable.
"Kid's got fire," Milan said one afternoon, arms crossed, watching Luka drive past a defender. "Just hope he doesn't burn out."
Niels smirked. "He won't. We'll manage the spark."
Milan gave him a long look. "You're seeing something in him?"
"I'm seeing something in all of them," Niels replied, more to himself than anyone else.
Marko Simic was a different case. The lanky center-back looked like he'd been built for the role—tall, strong, brave—but his feet hadn't gotten the memo. During one defensive drill, he got turned twice in five minutes by a striker who'd probably peaked four years ago.