Chapter 112: The Talk and the Truth
Chapter 112: The Talk and the Truth
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
The dawn light filtered through Crawley’s gray clouds, painting Broadfield Stadium’s muddy pitches in soft gold as Niels arrived, the familiar scent of wet grass grounding him.
Preseason was underway, Thomas’s intense fitness drills sparking energy, but today, Niels braced for the truth about his team’s spine, ready to fight for Crawley’s story on the muddy pitches where it would come alive.
Early that morning, a soft knock broke the quiet of Niels’s office. He looked up from his window to see Max standing in the doorway, his face drawn, eyes heavy with exhaustion, as if sleep had eluded him.
The captain looked drained, his shoulders slumped under an invisible burden. Niels motioned to a chair, the cluttered office match programs, a chipped mug, a photo from the FA Cup run fading into the background.
"Max," he said, keeping his voice warm but steady. "What’s on your mind?" Max sat, his hands fidgeting, his gaze fixed on the floor.
"Levante contacted my agent, Coach," he said, his voice low, almost a whisper. "La Liga. A chance to play at the top. I never thought I’d get a shot like this."
The words hit hard, each one a crack in Crawley’s heart. Max looked up, eyes full of conflict caught between loyalty and ambition. "Crawley’s home. This town, this team, it means everything. But this might be my only shot at that level."
Niels leaned back, his chair creaking, his heart aching for his captain but his face calm. He saw Max’s fiery Spanish sunset, his Wembley strike that had sent Broadfield roaring, his grit leading the line.
"I’m not going to stop you, Max," Niels said, his voice firm but kind, echoing Matteo’s advice to love the process. "Just don’t walk away with regrets. Think it through. Crawley needs you, but you need to choose what’s right for you."
Max nodded, his jaw tight, the weight of the decision clear in his eyes. "Two days," Niels said. "Let’s talk again then." Max gave a small nod, stood, and left, his footsteps echoing down the corridor, leaving Niels with a quiet pang of dread.