First Training Session
"Today we're going to divide ourselves into three teams of eleven players each". The head coach said. He looked over to the manager who stood beside him, and received a confirmatory nod.
Thirty four players sat circularly, with the coach and the manager serving as the central point. The manager started talking. " Team A is going to play high pressing passing football while exploiting the flanks". The manager read some names to form team A, Omari was included. He was supposed to play on the left wing.
"Team B is playing counter attack football, focusing on a central play of attack". He read pout the names to form team B.
"Team C is playing cautiously and will focus on defending. If there are any avenue for initiating attacking play, feel free to take it. There will be a balanced exploitation of play". Be ready out the names to form team C.
Ayanfe was excluded from all tree teams. The coach directed him away from the pitch for some one on one training with a specialist goal keeping coach.
Omari's lips curled into a smile when he saw Ayanfe's figure depart along with the head coach. Ayanfe was one of the only people that was actually nice to him. Most of his other teammates just treated him like shit since he was a reserve.
As for the other reserves… whoever said that misery did not like company was fairly right.
12'
A teenager with brown hair of medium length sent a through ball to the left for Omari. Omari and a defender from the other team raced towards the ball. Omari got there before the defender. He wanted to cut back with his right foot, instead he kicked the ball between the legs of the defender marking him.
That works too
He rushed past the right back and teased the defender that came over to mark him with the ball. His legs moving the ball slowly towards him, hinting at a sudden movement.
Uh… system?
|Ding!|
How do I use a skill?
Omari felt like he couldn't shout the name of the move he wanted to make before making it.
|Host should just play normally|
Play normally? How am I supposed to…
Step over.
Omari's legs flashed over the ball, catching the defender who was just about to make the tackle off guard, he dribbled the ball into the box, his drift past the defender giving him a bit of space to place a shot.
Curler.
Omari watched as his shot made an arc in the air, bending wide of the goalkeeper's dive and curling back inside just to hit the side of the steel post.
"Damnit!"
System?
|Ding!|
Why didn't I score?
|Ding! Skill: Curler |
|Effects: Improves the curve of the ball when a shit is made. Accuracy of the shot depends solely on the ability of the player|
"Nice one Omari". The brown haired midfielder that passed him the ball called out.
"Thanks Jack". Omari said as he rushed to mark a player. Jack smiled back and returned to his position.
25'
Once again, Jack initiated an attack down the left flank. This time though, instead of passing the ball directly to Omari, he gave it to a short blonde haired boy who chipped the ball to Omari who was already at the edge of the penalty area.
Step over.
After confusing the defender with his quick feet, Omari dribbled into the box and placed another shot.
Curler.
He watched as the ball flew into the air, curving around the header of a defender that attempted to blocked the shot, then sunk back in, deflecting off the bar and entering the goalpost.
I scored?!
The next moment, all his teammates jumped on him to celebrate the goal. Even though it was just a training match, the goal still meant a lot to the team.
"Hey, Maurice". The manager called out to the player that Omari dribbled last. "Watch the ball not the feet". The manager turned to Omari. "Nice shot son".
Omari smiled. He liked the manager. He was always quick to scold someone when they performed badly but was quicker to shower praises whenever they performed well.
The match was over soon after, team A winning it one goal to nothing. Three more matches played out and the manager called off training for the day.
Their next match was in two days, against Blackburn Rovers under eighteen. He had the entire team watch their matches from the previous season and pointed out flaws in their system of play.
"Their defender moves too slow, we're going to need someone quick on the left wing to exploit that weakness". His gaze moved from Omari, to another teenager that dyed his hair red. "I'll name the starting lineup and the training squad tomorrow after training".
He said a few words of motivation, increasing the general mood of the squad. "Ayanfe, Omari, wait behind". The head coach called out. He came to them with a book containing random numbers. "These are the current vacant numbers on the squad. Take your pick".
Omari smiled when he heard those words. The number ten shirt was vacant, he wanted to pick it at first but the head coach told him that he would be stripped of the shirt if he didn't perform as expected. He wasn't ballsy enough to pick the shirt.
This time though, he had a system that gave him unlimited potential. What exactly did he have to fear.
"Could I have the number ten shirt?" Omari asked.
The coach regarded him with a stern expression. "If you don't prove yourself to be worth it by the end of the season, you'll be stripped off the shirt. Do you agree to that condition?" Omari nodded straightaway.
Ayanfe chose his squad number and the two players walked away from the training center together.