Bluff

Preston's defending was not bad at all.

They hounded their opponents' best player like glue when he found a crease on their line to take advantage of. The bad news was, their defense was stretched too thin by him to provide any effective resistance down the wings.

Terry threaded a ball for Cameron Okojo, whose pace almost deemed him offside at the release of the pass. The ball was stunning, giving Cameron an easy job to chase it.

Cameron crossed the ball first time to whoever was in the middle of the penalty area, after he mishandled the ball with an atrocious first touch.

Triple teamed and all, Blaise Atkinson still jumped the highest. He jerked his head forward with immense power for the header, sending the keeper scrambling to stop it from going inside the bottom left corner of his goal.

GOAL! Sheffield strikes first!

Preston's manager counted the header as the sixth time Blaise Atkinson touched the ball from a teammate's pass the whole game. If he wasn't the manager of Preston, he would've already pumped his fists from the ridiculous goal per touch efficiency.

'I don't understand why they won't pass it to him until now!'

At least now, he's a little more confident of his theories, that Sheffield doesn't really intend to leave him out to dry. They might not be giving him much of the ball, but they still gave him that cross to score!

He's still the best player of the team after all, so the defense should always keep a watchful eye on him to keep him from scoring.

Ten minutes later, Atkinson's seventh reception of a pass became another goal. This time, it was a ball cut back from the right wing that produced a thumping shot from the edge of the penalty area.

The gaffer of Preston can now feel a large amount of sweat gushing inside his long sleeved shirt. His expression was one of utter disbelief in what he's seeing.

Two straight touches led to a goal?

How could they only give him the ball to shoot? What is this? Is he a fucking catch and shoot shooting guard?

This youth manager was in a major dilemma.

Should he allow his boys to continue the targeting of Blaise Atkinson, since he's scored a brace already?

Or should he lessen the pressure and dare Sheffield to feed him the ball?

What option will give him the least amount of worries?

***

Whatever the Preston manager chose to do… it didn't work.

He continued to count the number of times Blaise Atkinson has received a ball, and ended up with a paltry seventeen. Which makes it just ten more passes since his second goal…

What was Blaise Atkinson's final stat line? A hat trick, and two assists.

Sheffield Blades routed his Preston, 5-0.

Granted, they were outplayed in every single department by the young Blades. He'll give them that. Their possession game was on point. They scored from five of their seven shots on target. They abused the mismatches in the wing created by the magnetism of Atkinson in the middle the entire game.

He breathed a sigh, envying Sheffield's pipeline of talent.

Blaise Atkinson is a wonder boy, without a doubt. There are some Championship teams already circling around him like vultures as far as he remembered hearing, even if he hasn't made his professional debut yet.

They also have that speed demon, physical beast on the left wing. Plus that guy who wrought havoc with his trickery and unconventional play in the forward role. He also can't forget about that tiny winger with pace rivalling the one on the left.

No wonder we're outplayed. They got the edge on talent, tactics, and determination.

He wiped away the bucket of sweat on his body before making his way to the locker room in a daze.

***

November 22nd

Training during the past week for the Under 18s was grueling. The scrims were intense, the drills were performed by everyone with a level of work ethic staffers desired to see, and even the pre-match strategy meeting was taken with much more seriousness than ever.

Well, it does seem like these guys are preparing for something huge, like a Cup Final or something of that stature, but it's more than what meets the eye.

Some of the coaches from the Under 23s and the senior team joined their practices for a whole week, for a sole purpose: evaluating Blaise Atkinson.

His promotion to the first team was confirmed a while back, but the team wanted to make sure their evaluations of him were accurate, so the managers of the two higher teams sent a staff member each to watch him in training.

The other youth players took this as a chance to also show what they're made of.

"Aren't you guys tired?" Blaise was running around for the past hour, with Terry, Cameron, Callum, and three other players following behind him. "You guys don't run a lot!"

"No, it's for stamina. I need that endurance too." Cameron had the least amount of sweat, as a well-known physically dominant individual.

"During the last week, I came to love running… so no." Terry's bullshit flowed out of his mouth like it's nothing.

"It's written in my journal, so I gotta persevere!" Callum also gave his logical explanation.

Blaise was about to suit up for his last game at the Under 18 level tomorrow, and he can't wait to make his professional debut soon thereafter. For now though, his final day of training with the first friends he made upon his return was something he'll cherish.

"You won't impress them if you just run!" Blaise looked back and hollered as they turned the left corner flag. "We gotta dominate Millwall tomorrow too!"

"It won't be easy against a defensive team like that—" Cameron started.

"—But we'll blow them away like rubbish!" Terry ended.

"Millwall here we go!"

"Millwall here we go!"

"Millwall here we go!"

The eve of Blaise's last game for the Under 18s was nothing less than stellar.

***

"Boss. You called for me?" Damian Potts knew his way around his good friend and manager's office. He grabbed a cup of tea from the kettle, and sat down. "What's this important thing you're talking about?"

"Atkinson's going to join us after tomorrow's game."

Damian was dumbfounded. He thought it was unthinkable that he's sending the new boy up this fast. Even he himself got promoted to the first team around the end of January of his rookie year!

"Wait! Are you sure about this, Steve?" He knew full well how good the ex Manchester youngster really is, and if he's being honest, he's ready for the next step! But isn't this still too fast?

"We needed bodies in the middle. You know that, Damian." Steve said. "He's also a perfect candidate for promotion later in the year with the way he's going anyway, so why not roll the dice and give him some experience now?"

Damian knew that Steve had already weighed the pros and cons of promoting him. His promotion meant that the upsides he saw far outweighed the downsides.

Having finally relented, he asked. "So… does that mean he'll play in the next match?"

Steve Bronson smiled, "Hmmm…"