Training Drills

The smell of freshly cut grass and the slightly damp air of the academy grounds filled Benjamin's nostrils as he got out of the car and threw his kit bag over his shoulder.

He headed toward Stadion Haarlem wearing a clean Real Madrid jersey with the number 7 printed on the back.

The HFC Haarlem Youth Academy has quite a sad history. It was historically linked with HFC Haarlem, a once prominent club which played its matches at the Stadion Haarlem.

Stadion Haarlem was the main stadium for the club and its youth academy before the senior club was declared bankrupt in 2010.

While HFC Haarlem was no longer a club, its facilities were incorporated into the club's youth development and training program.

The stadium exuded nostalgia despite the club's tragic past.

Benjamin's earlier years came flooding back to him as soon as his cleats touched the turf. The long, carefree hours spent playing, dreaming of becoming one of footballs greatest.

Now, that dream was at the starting point, and he couldn't afford to falter.

Coach Jansen gave him a pat on the back. "Go on, kid. Join the others. Don't worry, you'll do fine."

Benjamin inhaled deeply before he parted ways with the instructor and made his way to the field, where a group of young people had already assembled. The youth players varied in age and some were mixed race like him.

More than a hundred young players were moving about, some stretching while others were talking eagerly about the scouts in the stands.

Despite the obvious nervousness, Benjamin made an effort to maintain his composure. A couple boys engaged him in small talk and courteous nods, but he kept his eyes on the vip booths in the stands.

His gaze landed on the shadowed figures seated up there, probably the scouts. His heart quickened, and he could feel a knot of anxiety forming in his stomach.

What if he wasn't ready? What if all the training he'd done still wasn't enough? His thoughts were in a mess. He took a deep breath to clear his head.

"Hey, you're Benjamin, right?" A voice broke his thoughts. He turned to see a tall, shifty-eyed, broad-shouldered boy with a friendly grin. "I've heard about you. You're the one that suffered that serious injury the last time, aren't you?"

Benjamin frowned as he wondered how he learned that. He pondered, then gave a nod. "Yeah, that's me."

"Must've been tough coming back from that." The boy extended his hand for a handshake, "My name is Lars. Good to meet you."

"Yeah, it wasn't easy," Benjamin remarked as he shook Lars' hand.

Lars grinned. "All right, have a good day. Let's show our capabilities to these scouts."

Benjamin smiled back, appreciating the words of encouragement. "Yeah."

Benjamin returned to the field as the talk subsided. His muscles tensed in expectation as the boys' mummurs increased in volume.

A group of men in sportswear had appeared on the other end of the field and was led by a middle-aged man who looked every bit the seasoned coach. He also spotted Coach Jansen's figure amongst them.

Their presence alone was enough to send a ripple of excitement through the crowd.

The man in front, who Benjamin recognized as the head coach of the youth program, raised a hand to quiet the group. "All right everybody, calm down! I know you're all excited but lets maintain our focus. You should give it your all since we have scouts in the stands looking for talented youths."

With his hands on his hips, the coach took another step forward. "This is how it will work. There are two sections to the trials. Your physical capabilities will be tested in the first section. We'll be examining shooting, passing, agility, speed, and stamina. To demonstrate your abilities, you will be conducting a variety of drills.

He took a moment to allow the guys to process the information. Benjamin listened intently, trying to focus on each word while mentally preparing himself.

'Speed. Stamina. Agility. Shooting. Passing.'

His left leg still wasn't at full strength, but he had confidence in the work he'd put into his recovery. His right foot had improved, and he'd sharpened his passing and dribbling skills. He just needed to push through.

The coach continued, "After the first round of drills, we'll narrow the group down to 64 players. Those of you who show the best physical abilities will move on to the second part, the trial matches."

"The trial matches will be your chance to demonstrate your tactical awareness, teamwork, and decision-making skills. This is your opportunity to shine because that is the reason the scouts are here."

As the coach brought up the trial matches, there was a mutter among the group. From the players around him, Benjamin could hear the excitement building.

His fists were clenched at his sides. He had to qualify for the trial matches. Even though he could feel the strain rising up the back of his neck, he inhaled deeply to relax.

The coach began as he looked at the faces before him, "keep in mind that this isn't just about showcasing your abilities. We are looking for players who are able to listen and work together with others as a team. Discipline and attitude are just as crucial as talent and you should emember that when you perform the drills."

Benjamin took the advise to heart and nodded to himself.

The assistant coaches were standing behind him, and the coach gestured to them. "Alright, you'll be split into smaller groups for the drills. Each group will be led by one of my assistants. When your name is called, head to your assigned coach."

Benjamin waited as the names were called out, his eyes darting toward the other boys as they broke off into groups. His stomach tightened when his name was finally called, and he made his way to the coach who would be leading his group.

The assistant coach, a younger man with a clipboard and a stopwatch, gave the boys a brief nod. "You've all got one job which is to do your best."

Glancing at the other boys around him, there were 18 of them in his group and a total of six groups which means at least a hundred and eight youths turned up for this trials.

The assistant coach moved forward with a clipboard in his hand, "We're going to start with speed drills and I want everyone of you to put your best effort into it. This is intended to show to us how quickly you are off the mark, and trust me, the scouts will be paying attention."

Benjamin shifted on his feet, his muscles tense with anticipation.

Speed had always been one of his strengths, but ever since the injury, he wasn't sure how well he'd do. His left leg still felt a little stiff, but his right had become stronger and more reliable.

The boys took turns running from one end of the field to the other when the coach blew his whistle, and the stopwatch recorded their times.

Benjamin kept a tight eye on the others as he sized up the competition. Some of them moved quickly with explosive energy as they darted across the grass. Others faltered as their anxiety overcame them.

"Next, Benjamin!" the coach called..

Benjamin's pulse raced as he took a step forward. He waited for the whistle while crouching low. When the moment came, he pushed off as hard as he could, racing for the finish line with his feet pounding against the grass.

His gaze was fixed on the distant cone as the wind swept past him. His left leg found it difficult to keep up with his powerful right. Nevertheless, he exerted more force to make his body move as quickly as possible.

Benjamin breathed heavily as he crossed the line and looked at the coach. The assistant gave him a quick nod and scribbled down his time. Although he was not the fastest, it wasn't bad either.

Benjamin inhaled deeply in a bid to stop the adrenaline from racing through his veins. He was aware that the other boys were watching him, but he didn't mind. He was here to prove that he could still compete.

The agility drill came next and the boys were required to weave around a zigzag pattern of cones as fast and swiftly as they could.

Benjamin saw several of the others stumble because their footwork not as smooth as it should have been. He was aware that this was his area of strength.

Benjamin concentrated on his footwork when it was his turn. He moved quickly and sharply around the cones, led by his right foot.

Though less fluid, his left foot was steady enough to follow. He completed the drill without losing his balance by carefully navigating through the cones.

Benjamin experienced a slight boost of confidence after the assistant coach nodded once more; he had done well.

The next was the shooting drill and that worried Benjamin the most as he had always struck the ball with his left foot, but he wasn't sure if it could bear the force he need now.

As he watched the other boys take their shots, some blasting the ball into the back of the net while others sent it flying wide, his stomach churned with nerves.

When his turn came, Benjamin positioned the ball and took a deep breath. He contemplated whether to use his right or left foot.

He didn't want to risk making a mistake in front of the scouts, so he followed his instincts which had grown increasingly dependable.

He took a step back and struck the ball with his right foot. The ball sailed through the air and hit the target even though it lacked the force he would have preferred. He exhaled in relief that he hadn't missed.

Benjamin eventually settled into a rhythm as the drills went on. Although he wasn't the fastest, he had good ball control and acute agility.

He felt both positive and exhausted at the end of the session.

Benjamin wiped off the sweat from his forehead as he joined the other groups when the head coach called for everyone to assemble. He looked around at the boys while wondering who had performed well enough to advanced.

His thoughts strayed to his own performance. Even though it hadn't been flawless, he had put his everything into it. It was up to the coaches now.

"Good work today," the head coach said with a sense of closure in his voice. "We'll be announcing who's advancing to the trial matches now."