Pick One

Youth academy football in England is brutal. Scholars, or youth footballers, fight for limited spots to be pro on the four tiers of the Football League against older players domestically, or foreign (especially in the Premier League).

It is a cutthroat, blood-filled journey to the top. Every step up is like scaling the heavens, as they say in wuxia.

Blaise, despite his great football pedigree, had to fight in the wastelands of amateur football and claw his way back to the top. He reached it, and yet still flopped hard, was let go, lost both legs in a crash, and died due to its complications.

But he's here again, for another crack at it.

He's waiting for this particular scout's call. When he saw McArthur's name on the scout's list, he knew he's the one he wanted to impress the most. In his former timeline, McArthur became the Blades' lead scout when Blaise was 29, all because of his scouted players sending them to the Premier League after more than 30 years out of the top division.

He knew he might still be inexperienced at this timeline, but he realized that the discerning eye for talent should already be there.

"Hi. It's Blaise Atkinson speaking."

"Oh. Mr. Atkinson. Your almost flawless performance yesterday exhilarated me. I've sent my scouting report over to our manager, and we, Sheffield Blades FC, wanted to extend our intent to sign you to a professional contract."

Blaise was already fist pumping the air while the scout rambled on. A smug grin was also already plastered on his face, when he replied. "Really? Are you serious, sir? I'd love to! It's just that…"

"Huh? Have you already agreed with some other team? I know that the demand for you is high right now… but could you please reconsider…"

Blaise might've sounded like he's just reconsidering, but he's subtly telling the Blades that he can sign anywhere he wanted. Even if he wanted to be part of Sheffield, as long as there isn't much assurance on his pathway to the first team, he'll go to some other place that would give it to him. He wanted them to know that.

"No… I am considering so many offers right now… so I'm weighing what options would help me further my career…" He spoke with hesitation. "You should know that I got released by Manchester… so I'm very wary of not getting any assurances…"

"I'm going to talk with my superiors. We'll get back to you after that… but I hope you'll consider joining our club."

"I appreciate the offer, sir! I'll be talking with my father on how to proceed. Thank you very much!"

As he put the call down, his huge father had already sneaked up behind him. He looked like a creep. "So? How many offers did you get, hot shot?"

Blaise felt a chill down his spine, as this was something he sorely missed. His father loved sneaking up on people like a creep.

"Dammit Dad! You're creepy!"

"Haha, I brought your favorite lamb chops. Let's talk about it over at the dining table."

Blaise put his hands up in the air for his father. Daddy Atkinson high-fived his son's hand in return.

He missed these little familial interactions. He always denied how it mattered to him after he turned 30, but now, he won't let himself lose this feeling of home anymore.

"I'm gonna tell you some very interesting offers, Dad. It'll knock your balls off."

"Too bad, only a Premier League offer will knock this old balls of mine off."

***

The next day, another flood of offers came in. This time, there's more teams from the 5th division or lower. He politely declined all of them on the spot, citing more higher division offers.

He jogged, and rode the bicycle for several kilometers each, to train both his legs and stamina. At home, he also did a multitude of cardiovascular exercises, and lifted weights. He knows these precious days of free training could only make him all the more stronger in the long run.

He took the weekdays off to condition himself, and to 'consider offers' before he started calling many teams on his list and rejected them.

Until he ended up confirming his decision to sign a professional contract with Sheffield Blades FC the next Saturday.

The contract negotiations between the Blades, and Atkinson went along pretty well. It's a one-year contract with enough money in it for Blaise to live comfortably by the Third Division's standards. The Atkinsons managed to negotiate a one year extension with a massive pay rise if the team gets promoted, and some performance bonuses in the contract too.

After passing the required medical exams, the contract was then signed with little fanfare at the team's home base.

He was then given a tour of Sheffield's complex by one of the youth coaches. He got a glimpse of the first team regulars, almost all of which were older than him. He also smiled seeing the Blades' academy, which was considered the best in the city of Sheffield.

Finally, he ended up inside their home stadium. A huge 25,000 seater marvel that is the oldest, still standing football stadium in the world. It also gets filled up more often than not, thanks to the fact that Sheffield was one of the best supported clubs in the lower divisions.

Blaise was still smiling ear to ear, as he only had fond memories of the Bramall Lane, which is now what he can call his home stadium. He can never forget the FA Cup Final he won here while he was with Nottingham in his first life, which was surely one of his biggest achievements.

Now, he's here to create his new legend.

As Blaise's tour of the Sheffield Blades complex drew to a close, the youth manager beside him extended his hand in formal welcome.

"I sincerely welcome you to Sheffield Blades, Blaise Atkinson. I hope you'll thrive here with us, and work for the betterment of both yourself and our team. We're glad to have you on board!"

"Thank you, manager! I'm looking forward to working with you in training."

"Not bad, kid. I shall see what you're made of starting tomorrow. You should know that the game our scouts saw of you has no bearing whatsoever on my plans. You'll start at the bottom, and will be working your way up the ladder, understood?"

There's a noticeable glint in Blaise's eyes as he heard those words. "Of course, Boss. I would not expect anything less. I'll work my way up in no time."

"Glad to find out you have the confidence in you, kid. Let's just hope you have the skill, and determination to back that bravado up." The balding youth head coach started walking away, and said with a hint of challenge, "Welcome to Sheffield, see you tomorrow."

"Yes, sir!"