Chapter 26: Luca Ferretti
The sun had barely risen when Alex stepped into the training ground. The air was crisp and fresh, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass and sweat, something he was starting to find oddly comforting. There was something raw and honest about it, like it belonged only to footballers and farmers. It was recovery day. For most players, it was supposed to be a time to rest and recharge, filled with ice baths, stretching sessions, massages, some light jogging, and maybe a bit of quiet reflection. But for Alex Walker, recovery didn’t mean slowing down. Not when there was still work to do.
After the players finished their recovery routines under the eyes of the medical and fitness staff, Alex gathered them in the locker room. The mood was still high. The buzz from the 3–1 win against Monza hadn’t quite worn off yet. The boys looked loose, relaxed, still smiling like they were walking on air.
But Alex wasn’t smiling.
He stood at the front of the room, arms crossed over his chest, eyes sharp and unwavering. The faint hum from the overhead fluorescent lights was the only thing making a sound as the players quieted down. There was a tension in the silence, one they all felt, even if they didn’t understand it just yet.
"Alright," Alex started, his voice low but firm, slicing right through the silence like a razor, "that was a good win. You played like fucking warriors out there. You deserved every bit of the applause you got. But..."
He let the pause linger, letting the weight of that ’but’ land properly. He could almost see the smiles beginning to falter around the room.
"...you don’t get to enjoy that forever. We’ve got Fiorentina next. And they’re not Monza. They’re not gonna give you three chances and hope you bury one. They’ll punish you for every mistake. Every sloppy touch. Every slow decision. Every inch of laziness."
The atmosphere in the room shifted. Jokes faded, eyes narrowed. The players knew this wasn’t just a speech. This was a warning.
"I’m not here to piss on your parade," Alex continued, his tone softening just a bit, "but that same performance? It’s not gonna cut it against them. You want to feel that high again? That same electric buzz? Then we’ve got to get better. And fast."
He shifted his gaze to the attacking players specifically, his voice growing more pointed.
"Especially you forwards. You’re staying back after this. We’re gonna fix that finishing. I don’t care if you hate it. We’re doing it."