Chapter 30: A Quiet New Year
Chapter 30: A Quiet New Year
Thursday, 1 January 2010
Niels woke late, the first morning in months where no alarm yanked him from sleep. It wasn't a wild New Year's Eve that kept him in bed past nine, just the rare chance to let time drift, to exist without a clipboard or a whistle or the weight of a season on his shoulders.
The curtains in his flat hung half-open, letting in a soft, grey light that spilled across the room. He lay there, eyes tracing the unfamiliar cracks in the ceiling, his mind slipping to the life he'd left behind. A few months ago, he wasn't here, not in this flat, not in this body, not in this era. He was hunched over a keyboard, eyes locked on a screen, fingers flying through virtual worlds, lost in the adrenaline of late-night matches, callouts, and clutch moments. A hardcore gamer, living for the grind of leaderboards and the rush of a well-timed play. Had he not been torn from that life reincarnated, transmigrated, whatever it was, he'd still be there, headset on, chasing victories in digital arenas, not coaching a football team thrust upon him when the head coach's health collapsed few months ago.
The thought hit him, sharp, kind of bittersweet.
If he was still his old self, he'd probably be grinding FIFA right now. Maybe streaming to a small group of regulars, laughing with mates on Discord, chasing that next rank. Not drawing up training drills for a League Two squad.
He missed it sometimes, the quiet hum of his PC, the glow of the screen, how easy it was to lose hours in a match. That pressure felt different. He knew that world inside out. If you lost, you just hit restart. No team talks. No press conferences. No one's career riding on your call.
Coaching wasn't like that. Every decision carried weight. Real people. Real consequences.
But even with all that the stress, the noise, the doubt, this was starting to feel right.