Smooth Sailing

"So, how good do you think he is at this moment of time?" A deep and serious voice could be heard from the other end of the line. "Is he as good as advertised?"

"I've only ever seen two games from him, so it's really hard to think if he could keep his blistering start going." The man wearing a brown trench coat and a black fedora stood at the exit of the drenched stadium. "I'm already sure of one thing though; it's that some of the things he's doing on the pitch now, he can't do before."

"Are the things you're saying for the better or worse?"

"Nothing but good things. Blaise Atkinson had grown to be a far different footballer than what our evaluators thought he would be when they let him go." The man looked at the Sheffield Blades team bus moving under the downpour some ways away.

"Interesting."

"Let me watch more games from him for now to evaluate his strengths and weaknesses, so that you guys have an easier time." The man is actually excited at this find. After all, diamonds slipping through their net always fascinated him. Their growth, their circumstances, their determination...

"Hmmm… I'll give you until the third round of the FA Cup then." The man touched up his fedora and gave a slight smile upon hearing the reply.

He then gave a low reply of appreciation before rushing out of the downpour without a care in the world.

***

"Our scoreline of the day was in Lincoln, where Sheffield Blades ran out 9-1 winners against League Two Lincoln City, courtesy of our best player of the entire FA Cup 2nd Round, Blaise Atkinson."

"Yeah, the game wasn't televised sadly but the Sheffield outfit eviscerated their lower league opponents amid the heavy rainfall." One of the three pundits on the late night sports show said. "I mean, scoring nine unanswered goals after going down early? What could've been more dominant than that?"

"That Blaise Atkinson's also among League One's hottest names in the past week, with his pedigree, his looks, and his scintillating performances on the pitch." The one in the middle said. "Seems like we got ourselves another prospect on the rise, no?"

"Yeah, after back to back performances like that? I know it must be premature, but I'm sure the higher division teams are already scrambling for the seventeen year old's signature." The man on the right added.

"Well, I hope the young man can continue the torrid start to his career." The three analysts agreed with cautious optimism. "I hope we'll see him in the Premier League in the future."

"Moving on, the Premier League games tomorrow include…"

***

The Sheffield team bus is buzzing.

It doesn't matter if the bus windows are all fogged up and they can't see anything outside the pouring rain. That wasn't enough to erode the jovial atmosphere of the team that had just come off of a magnificent win.

"Let's drink this fine protein drink bottoms up!" The riled up captain Damian Potts raised a massive tumbler of post game drink in a toast. "For our undisputed man of the match, raise your glasses up!"

Their manager Steve Bronson meanwhile, sat in the front of the bus, sound asleep as usual on the way home. The other staff members that made the trip, either looked on without saying anything, or clapped their hands with glee.

Meanwhile, the players chugged the contents of their post match protein drinks in a celebratory mood, and without any qualms.

A rarity, since these kinds of drinks are hated by many.

Alain Prosser put his arms around Blaise's shoulder after his expression took a dark turn from the drink and said, "Man, you're ridiculous! You made our opponents really scared— no… rather, terrified— of you!"

"Yeah, Blaise boy balled out today! I like it!" George coughed hard, almost vomiting the contents of the drink. "God I really hate the taste of that thing!"

"I did what I can, everyone." Blaise was all smiles in contentment. "I hope I can continue doing what I can for the rest of the season!"

"Let's go Blades!" The captain raised his fists high, punching the roof of the bus.

"Yeah!"

The bus continued rumbling home.

***

Manchester, later that night.

Blaise Atkinson looked far out into his window with a contemplative gaze.

He never would've expected that a game against a lower division team would take a lot more out of him physically and mentally than he thought it would. Maybe it's because of the downpour? Maybe it's because of the worsening state of the pitch as the match went on?

No. Those factors had an effect for sure, but it's not substantial enough for him to feel this way.

What could it be then?

The door to his room opened, and a drunk Blair entered with a smile on his face.

"My gorgeous son! That was quite a performance!" Blair ran straight to his son and lifted him up in a bear hug.

Blaise gave his father a sniff, and caught the heavy smell of hard liquor. He deduced instantly that his old man went to a pub somewhere with his new ultras friends.

"Thank you Dad, but you should knock off now. Tomorrow morning is going to be a hectic one for you in university!" He can't carry his father, so he just tried to push him and help him get back to his room.

"I know already…. I just wanna… congratu—" even before the father could finish what he's saying, a hot and disgusting concoction poured onto Blaise's back like a faucet. To be honest, Blaise already knew this was going to happen the moment his father stepped foot in his room drunk.

Blair was the kind of person that would only stop drinking when he's about to vomit.

"Fuck it all…" Blaise literally pushed the huge frame of his father to his bed with great difficulty before wiping the sweat from his forehead and running straight to his comfort room to rid himself of the caustic spittle. "Why is he drinking away like he's not a bloody professor?"

He broke out in a laugh as he cleaned the vomit off of his shirt and threw it in his laundry basket.

Things like his father vomiting after drinking held an immense amount of sentimental value to him.

Blaise took one last look at his dad, who's already snoozed off to dreamland. "I'm gonna do all that I can to keep you alive this time, Dad. I won't let things fall out between you and I."