Chapter 9: The Quiet Before the Rise
Chapter 9: The Quiet Before the Rise
The boardroom air still clung to Niels like static—dry, tense, unspoken things crackling just under the surface. He stepped outside into the fading afternoon light, file tucked under his arm, his thoughts somewhere far beyond Crawley.
Oxford United.
Two divisions up. A team with full-time analysts, proper facilities, and players with Football League wages. Crawley wasn't supposed to beat teams like that. But that didn't mean they couldn't.
The cold wind bit at his collar as he crossed the gravel toward the changing rooms. In the distance, some of the lads were still messing around after training. Luka was juggling the ball with his heel, showing off again. Dev sat on the bench nearby, watching quietly. Jamal leaned against the wall, arms crossed, half-smiling like a proud older brother.
Niels stopped for a moment.
It wasn't just drills or heat maps that got them here. It was this. The small things. The invisible threads tying them together. Camaraderie born from grind and gravel. Grit polished by belief.
Still, the challenge ahead was real.
Back inside the office, Milan was waiting—arms folded, eyes tired but warm.
"So," he said, without needing to say more.
Niels exhaled. "Oxford United. Away."