18 Master

The manager Steve Bronson kept his objective eye on. Even if this little scrap with the ex captain goes the kid's way, it will be irrelevant to the grand scheme of things in the club.

But he had to admit, this kid sure knows how to make an impression.

He clearly saw him nutmeg Potts, before he looped around him to flick it into the low training goal. Bronson can't help himself but go straight into the pitch amid the gradually growing commotion in curiosity.

"Kid you sure are serious, huh." Potts was already panting, as the fatigue he didn't expect to get into him this early in the morning got to him anyway. "What's your endgame?"

Right as the first team manager blended into the thick of things, he heard the brown haired lad say, "Greatest of all time."

Steve's eyes narrowed. He didn't expect the youngster to say anything like this, nor did anyone else that could hear the conversation. It's just that big of a goal.

The circle surrounding Potts and Atkinson burst into either laughter and discussion. The older first team guys discussed how brave of a declaration it was, while his fellow youngsters struggled to hold back their laughter.

"Woah, woah, woah, slow down there kid!" In the middle of everything, the 38 year old waved his two hands in front of him. "Are you serious?"

"Yes. That's the ultimate goal." He took the ball from the small goal. "But don't worry, I also have several small goals in between."

"That's admirable." The commotion stopped as Steve Bronson stepped in with a smile on his face. "You have to break through to the first team first though."

"Boss!" After a surprised salute, the players at the sides have instantly dispersed without so much of a fuss.

"Manager." Potts, who's just 2 years younger than Bronson, nodded his head. "Why are you here this early?"

"Can't I be early for once, huh?" The manager gave him a small pat on the back. "What are you doing getting tossed around by this new guy?"

Blaise meanwhile stood there like a lost kid. Why is this manager acting like an older teammate or brother? Shouldn't these two be a little more formal?

"Oy, bastard. You're scaring him." Potts eyebrows twitched at the sight of this informal talk. "You see… this guy is a staff member here for a very long time… and I've been here since I was a thumb sucking kid… so we're kinda close."

"Oh, you should throw in the fact that I was also an academy grad two years his senior before I became a staff member so that you'll get the idea how far back we go." The manager, who's starting to look less and less of a manager in Blaise's eyes added.

Well, this must be some sort of a club's open secret, Blaise thought. He also figured out one of the biggest reasons why the manager Steve Bronson was so well-liked by the members of the team, staff, and fans.

He's a lifetime Sheffield man.

"See, you scared him. You shouldn't surprise the rookie with stories like that."

"Oh, okay." The manager touched his chin as if contemplating on something. "I have an idea."

"I hate it when you have random ideas. I don't wanna hear it."

"I'm your boss, just hear me out, dammit!" He gazed at Blaise and further contemplated. "Wouldn't it be fun if you take him under your wing? He's a midfielder as well right?"

Blaise froze. He was unable to predict what was going on inside the first team manager's mind, even if it's to his advantage. It's such a curveball that even Damian was caught off guard.

"Huh? Where did this come from? Are you mad?" If the youngster wasn't here, he'd be pulling on his hair right now.

"Blaise, right? As the first team manager, I'm putting you under the tutelage of Mr. Damian Potts. I hope you steal— I mean learn his techniques…" Bronson didn't even give Potts the chance to escape responsibility. When he catches a glimpse of what could be a special player even just from that small snippet of action he saw earlier, he'll never pass up the opportunity to build that player up.

"Oy, oy! Isn't that too sudden?" Damian can't believe his manager and friend. "You just saw him nutmeg me once and you're sending him to learn under me?"

His apprehension is acceptable. He only got nutmegged once and now he has to take care of this youngster?

"No. He changed the flow of the practice match all by his lonesome when he came in. How is that too hasty?" Earlier, the only reason why the manager assigned the youngster to Potts was to just screw him over, but now, he also remembered that not only did the kid assist the first one but also scored the other of his team's two goals. Plus, the under 18's manager said that he's also the engine that spurred the team's improved performance on.

"Don't you think a youngster like that, if you include his youth academy pedigree, isn't worth the club legend's nurturing?" The smile in Steve's face gave Damian the rising urge to punch him. "Well, I'm the manager too, so I'm gonna have you abide."

Potts held it in, as his friend and manager made some key points. He said after a sigh, "Fine. Why not? If he sucked, I'm gonna give up. That alright with you manager?"

"Yep. See you in a few minutes at the video room." Steve's already walked several meters away after the task was agreed.

On the side, Blaise was praising the manager in his head. His only plan was to show-off against Potts and ask him to be his tutor straight up, without any assurances that he'll agree. Now though, not only did he not do the convincing, the manager helped him gain Potts as a mentor!

I love you, boss!

"Disciple Blaise Atkinson bows to Master." Blaise did an exaggerated old fashioned bow.

"Fuck, fuck! Don't be formal all of a sudden!" Potts held him up by the shoulders, surprising Blaise with the unintended show of strength. "Master, your ass!"

"Thank you for accepting me, Master!"

"Stop that! You're not even cute!" An awkward blush appeared on Potts' face as the junior players slowly trickled back into the pitch and saw this embarrassing banter.

"I won't disappoint you, Master Potts!" He bowed once more before turning back to join his curiously glancing fellow teammates in practice, leaving Potts shaking his head.

Blaise felt the obligation to repay the manager's faith in time.

Our manager sure is nice!