13: Struggles Beneath the Surface

The days following the disappointing draw were marked by a palpable tension at the training ground. FC Barcelona B was still in contention for promotion, but the road ahead had become more treacherous, with no room for further slip-ups. Liam felt the pressure more acutely than ever, but now, it wasn't just the external expectations that weighed on him; it was the internal battle with his own confidence that had begun to take a toll.

In the early hours of the morning, when the city was still quiet and the sun had yet to rise, Liam found himself awake, staring at the ceiling. The relentless hum of his thoughts kept him from sleep, a nagging voice in the back of his mind replaying the missed opportunities from the last match, the hesitation that had cost him—and his team—so dearly.

He got out of bed, his movements slow and deliberate as he made his way to the kitchen. The apartment was silent, save for the occasional creak of the floorboards beneath his feet. The familiarity of the routine—boiling water for tea, reaching for a cup, stirring in honey—was usually a comfort, but this morning, it felt like just another chore. The normalcy of it contrasted sharply with the turmoil in his mind.

Liam took his tea to the small balcony overlooking the street below. The city was still cloaked in darkness, with only a few lights dotting the horizon. He leaned against the railing, the steam from the cup rising in delicate swirls into the cool air. This was his private refuge, a place where he could escape the noise and demands of the world, even if only for a few minutes.

But today, there was no escape. The silence only amplified the doubts that had been festering inside him. He had always prided himself on his mental toughness, on his ability to push through challenges and emerge stronger, but this felt different. This was a struggle against something intangible, a shadow that had settled over his mind and refused to lift.

His phone buzzed on the table inside, breaking the stillness. He glanced at it, half expecting another message from a well-meaning friend or family member trying to offer encouragement. But when he picked it up, he saw it was from Coach Gomez.

Coach Gomez: Meet me at the training ground an hour early today. We need to talk.

Liam's heart sank. A meeting with the coach outside of regular training hours wasn't a good sign. He had known Gomez long enough to recognize that the coach only requested one-on-one meetings when something serious needed addressing. The fact that this meeting was being scheduled before the rest of the team arrived made it clear that Gomez wanted to discuss something private—likely his recent form.

Liam spent the next hour preparing for the day ahead, trying to push aside the gnawing anxiety that had been building since the message. He dressed quickly, not bothering with breakfast, and headed out into the cool morning air. The streets were still mostly empty, the city not yet fully awake. He walked the familiar route to the training ground, each step echoing the uncertainty that had taken root inside him.

When he arrived, the training ground was eerily quiet, the only sound being the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. The early morning light was just beginning to touch the tops of the buildings, casting long shadows across the pitch. Liam made his way to the locker room, his footsteps echoing in the empty corridors.

Coach Gomez was already there, sitting on one of the benches, his expression serious but not unkind. He looked up as Liam entered, and for a moment, they simply regarded each other in silence.

When he arrived, the training ground was eerily quiet, the only sound being the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. The early morning light was just beginning to touch the tops of the buildings, casting long shadows across the pitch. Liam made his way to the locker room, his footsteps echoing in the empty corridors.

Coach Gomez was already there, sitting on one of the benches, his expression serious but not unkind. He looked up as Liam entered, and for a moment, they simply regarded each other in silence.

"Morning, Liam," Gomez finally said, breaking the quiet.

"Morning, Coach," Liam replied, trying to keep his voice steady.

Gomez gestured for Liam to sit down beside him. The coach's demeanor was calm, but Liam could sense the underlying concern. He took a seat, his hands resting on his knees, waiting for Gomez to begin.

"I've been watching you closely these past few weeks," Gomez started, his tone measured. "And I can see that something's been bothering you. You've been playing well, but not at the level I know you're capable of. It's like you're holding back, second-guessing yourself."

Liam nodded slowly, not trusting himself to speak just yet. He knew the coach was right—he had felt it too, that hesitation, that lack of confidence in moments that used to come naturally to him.

Gomez continued, "I don't want to push you too hard, but we're at a critical point in the season. The team needs you to be at your best, and I know you're capable of that. But you need to tell me what's going on. Is it the pressure? The expectations? Something else?"

Liam stared at the ground, his mind racing. How could he explain what he was feeling? How could he articulate the fear that had taken hold, the fear that he might not be good enough, that he might fail when it mattered most? He took a deep breath, trying to find the words.

"I… I don't know, Coach," Liam finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just feel like… like I'm not sure of myself anymore. Every time I get the ball, I start thinking about what could go wrong instead of just playing. It's like I'm scared to make a mistake, and that's making me hesitate."

Gomez listened intently, his expression thoughtful. When Liam finished, the coach nodded slowly. "I understand," he said. "It's natural to feel that way, especially when the stakes are high. But you need to find a way to push through it. The only way to overcome this fear is to confront it head-on."

Liam looked up, meeting the coach's gaze. "But what if I can't? What if I keep messing up and cost us everything?"

Gomez leaned forward, his eyes steady and reassuring. "Liam, you've been one of our most consistent players all season. You've shown that you have the talent, the drive, and the mental toughness to succeed. But everyone goes through rough patches, even the best players. The key is how you respond to it."

He paused, letting his words sink in. "You're not alone in this. The team is behind you, and I'm behind you. But you have to believe in yourself, even when it's hard. Especially when it's hard. The pressure isn't going to go away, but that's what makes this level of football so challenging—and so rewarding."

Liam nodded, feeling a mixture of relief and trepidation. It was comforting to hear the coach's words, but it didn't completely erase the doubts that had been plaguing him. Still, he knew he had to try. He couldn't let this fear control him any longer.

"Thanks, Coach," Liam said, his voice a little stronger now. "I'll do my best to push through it."

Gomez smiled, a rare but welcome expression. "That's all I ask. Now, let's get to work. We've got a big match coming up, and I want you ready to give it everything you've got."

The rest of the team began arriving soon after, filling the locker room with the usual mix of chatter and laughter. Liam tried to immerse himself in the routine, to let the familiarity of it all ground him. As they made their way out to the pitch for the day's session, he could feel the eyes of his teammates on him, some offering subtle nods of encouragement, others simply giving him space.

The training was intense, as always, but Liam found himself more focused, more determined to shake off the doubts that had been holding him back. Coach Gomez kept a close watch on him, offering advice and feedback when needed but otherwise letting Liam find his rhythm.

As the session progressed, Liam began to feel a glimmer of his old self returning. His passes were crisper, his movements more fluid. There were still moments of hesitation, but they were fewer, and he tried not to dwell on them. He knew it would take time to fully regain his confidence, but for the first time in weeks, he felt like he was moving in the right direction.

After training, Liam stayed behind to work on some drills alone. The sun was high in the sky now, casting a warm glow over the pitch. He focused on his touch, his passing, trying to find that instinctive feel for the ball that had always come so naturally to him. Each repetition was a small step toward rebuilding the confidence he had lost.

As he finished up, he noticed someone approaching from the sidelines. It was Gabriel, one of his closest friends on the team and a player who had always been a source of support for Liam.

"Hey, man," Gabriel called out as he jogged over. "You staying late again?"

Liam shrugged, offering a small smile. "Just trying to get some extra work in. Figured it couldn't hurt."

Gabriel nodded, understanding. "I get it. But don't burn yourself out. We need you fresh for the next match."

They both knew how important the upcoming game was. It wasn't just about three points; it was about momentum, about proving to themselves and their opponents that they were still in control of their destiny.

As they walked off the pitch together, Gabriel glanced at Liam, a hint of concern in his eyes. "You've been a bit quiet lately. Everything okay?"

Liam hesitated, then sighed. "Honestly? I've been struggling a bit. The pressure, the expectations… it's all just been getting to me. I'm trying to push through it, but it's been tough."