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Pitch Perfect

Marcus Pearson, a 14-year-old football prodigy from a small town in England has always dreamed of going pro. Growing up in Birmingham, he spends countless hours practicing on the local pitch with his best friend, Mia, who shares his passion for the beautiful game. Marcus' father, a former football player whose career was cut short by injury, is determined to see his son succeed and pushes him relentlessly. Pitch Perfect is a tale of a young athlete's journey through the highs and lows of pursuing his passion, set against the backdrop of England’s rich football culture.

Wounded_Sloth · Sport
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68 Chs

Preps Against Huddersfield Town

Marcus stood in the middle of the training pitch at Motspur Park in his black training kit. The mood among the Fulham squad was serious but energetic after the big win against Chelsea. The win had lifted the players' spirits, but the reality of their league position was still in the back of everyone's mind. They weren't out of danger yet.

As the players stretched and warmed up, Coach Anderson paced along the sidelines, eyes scanning the field. Today's session wasn't about resting on their laurels, it was about preparing for the next fight. Huddersfield Town was up next, sitting at the bottom of the table in 20th place, but Anderson had made it clear that this was no time for complacency.

"Alright, listen up!" Coach Anderson's voice cut through the chatter as the players gathered around him. "I don't need to remind you where we stand. Huddersfield might be at the bottom, but that doesn't mean they're going to roll over. We need those three points—anything less, and we're back in trouble."

The players nodded, their focus sharpening at his words. Huddersfield was desperate to escape the relegation zone too, and desperation made teams dangerous. Anderson's tactical instructions were straightforward: high intensity, press hard, and exploit Huddersfield's defensive frailties.

"Marcus!" Anderson called out, his sharp gaze falling on the young midfielder. "Stay behind for a moment after the drills, I need to talk to you."

Marcus felt a jolt of nerves but nodded, acknowledging the request. The coach's tone wasn't harsh, but it was serious. Marcus had a feeling Anderson had spotted something in his game, something that needed addressing.

Training resumed with intensity. The players went through passing drills, small-sided games, and focused on maintaining their sharpness. Marcus found himself working closely with Harvey and Fabio again, their chemistry on the field continuing to build from their days in the U21s. They made quick movements, slick passes, and intelligent positioning—a combination that had given Chelsea problems.

But Marcus couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Coach Anderson was watching him closely during every drill. After about an hour, Anderson blew the whistle, signaling the end of the session.

"Alright, cool down. Marcus, come here," Anderson called, gesturing toward the edge of the pitch.

Marcus jogged over, wiping sweat from his forehead as the rest of the players dispersed for their cooldown.

"You played well against Chelsea, no doubt," Anderson started, "but I noticed something about your game that we need to fix, especially if you're going to be the pivot in this team."

Marcus felt a twinge of anxiety but kept his focus. He had been waiting for feedback, and he trusted Anderson to help him improve.

"In the Chelsea game, when they double-marked you, or even triple-marked you at times, you struggled to get out of it. Kante, in particular, shut you down when they applied that pressure. Now, that's going to happen more often as teams realize how pivotal you are to our play. You're the link between midfield and attack, and they're going to try to squeeze you out of the game."

Marcus nodded, recalling those moments where he felt boxed in by the Chelsea midfield. Kante's tackle and how he lost the ball had replayed in his mind since the game.

"So here's what you need to do," Anderson continued. "First, don't try to dribble your way out every time. I know you're good with the ball at your feet, but sometimes the safest option is the best one. Move the ball quicker—one-touch passes, triangles with your teammates, especially when you've got multiple players closing in on you. Let the ball do the work."

Marcus listened intently, soaking in every word. Anderson's advice made sense. He had always relied on his footwork to get out of tight situations, but at this level, that wasn't always enough.

"Second," Anderson added, "start working on your awareness off the ball. You need to anticipate when that pressure is coming and position yourself accordingly. Don't always look to be the guy to make the killer pass. Sometimes, dragging defenders out of position by moving off the ball is just as important. You're going to be double-marked a lot more, but if you position yourself right, you can pull two men out of the game and open up space for someone else, like Harvey or Fabio."

Marcus nodded again, feeling the weight of Anderson's words sink in. Being the focal point of Fulham's midfield meant he was going to be targeted, and now he had to adjust his game to cope with that.

"You've got the talent, Marcus," Anderson said, his voice softening. "But at this level, it's all about the details. Keep your head up, play smart, and we'll get those three points against Huddersfield."

Marcus felt a wave of gratitude toward his coach. Anderson had faith in him, but more importantly, he was giving him the tools to succeed.

"I'll work on it, coach," Marcus said, determination lacing his voice.

"Good. Now go join the others," Anderson replied with a nod.

As Marcus jogged back toward the locker room, his mind was already racing with thoughts of the upcoming match. He needed to be better—quicker, smarter, and more aware. Huddersfield might not be Chelsea, but the stakes were just as high. They needed those three points to claw their way out of the relegation zone.