Harbinger Of Glory

After the early morning session, the players made their way into the Cafeteria, which felt busier than usual with conversations falling in pockets around the room.

’

Most of their talks still circled back to the difference between Baldini’s methods and Marco’s methods, which they had just experienced, but some of the boys were too focused on their trays to care.

Carlo and Leo slipped into the latter’s usual corner, plates in hand.

Leo hadn’t even taken his first bite before Carlo leaned forward.

”Where did you learn to play like that?” Carlo asked.

”And how are you not already at some big club? No offence.”

Leo looked at him for a second, then sat back.

”What do you want me to say?”

”Anything. People don’t just play like that for fun.”

Ruggeri, Udogie, Fornella and Ricci drifted over and dropped into the seats around them.

The table filled up fast, the clatter of cutlery settling into the background. Carlo nudged Leo again.

”Come on. Stop being mysterious.”

Leo let out a quiet sigh, the kind that admitted defeat.

”Fine. I almost quit football, actually.”

That pulled all their eyes up.

”At United,” Leo went on.

”Manchester United. They barely looked at me. And the boys didn’t help either with all their bullying and condescending attitudes. A few were nice to me, but it wasn’t going to erase what the others liked to do to me. I don’t blame them, though. I was bad. At least to their standards.”

Carlo snorted.

”Everyone struggles with something. Doesn’t mean they should treat you like that. We’re all in academies to learn.”

”Sure,” Leo said.

”But I couldn’t keep up with what they wanted. And the club was a mess at the time. I was going to leave anyway.”

He paused to take a sip of water before continuing.

”One day in training, I thought some League One coach was watching our game. Dawson. Turns out he was Wigan’s assistant manager. After the session, he came over and told me to try out for their U21S, even though I was still with the United U18S. Then he said he’d train me intensively and alone for a couple of months first.”

The boys exchanged small, impressed looks.

Leo kept going.

”Those starting months were actually the turning point for me and my life, as they made everything click. He figured out what I could actually do with the ball, not what I was told to do. My vision. My passing. And then all the stuff I lacked too. I had no confidence. Couldn’t deal with pressure. He fixed that. Or tried to.”

”So he basically rebuilt you,” Carlo said.

”Pretty much.”

”And then you signed for Wigan.”

”Yeah. U21S at first. Then the first team, two months later, when the seniors had an injury crisis. Dawson had become the head coach by then.”

They all nodded at that, except Carlo, who leaned in again.

”You sure you don’t want to come to City? I can put in a good word.”

Leo scoffed and shook his head while Ricci, with his careful but clear English, pointed a fork at him.

”When were you playing for United U18?”

”Start of this year.”

Ricci blinked. ”So it took you less than a year to go from quitting to almost starting for Wigan?”

Leo nodded.

”Seventeen years and seventy-seven days. That’s how old I was when I made my debut.”

The boys stared at him, then groaned in unison as the realisation hit.

”Underage,” Udogie muttered.

He kicked Carlo under the table, with the latter wincing before glaring at him.

”And you wanted him to come to that party. He would’ve ended up drinking.”

Carlo froze mid-chew while Leo laughed.

”That’s one of the reasons I didn’t go. Temptation isn’t something you fight. You just avoid it.”

”Wow. The youngest among us is dropping some wisdom.”

The players kept on talking until the food on their plates vanished, and then, just then, Marco stepped into the cafeteria, neat and composed again after the chaos of the last forty-eight hours.

He lifted his voice just enough to be heard.

”Boys. Tactical session this evening. Everyone needs to be there.”

A round of nods answered him as he slipped out just as quietly as he’d entered.

As soon as he was gone, Ruggeri leaned forward. ”He’s working like a man with something to prove.”

”There’s pressure on him,” Fornella said. ”Baldini left this team in a bad place, morale-wise and just structurally”

”Yeah,” Carlo agreed. ”He doesn’t get a honeymoon period. He has to fix everything fast.”

The boys finished the last of their drinks, stood, and drifted out in small groups, with all the time to spare before their tactical meet with Marco in the evening.

Marco, on the other hand, found himself in the office, which was still new to him.

Baldini hadn’t bothered much with the space, so half the shelves were empty, and the desk didn’t have a single personal item on it.

The only thing that looked lived-in was the tactics board standing beside the window, markers scattered at the base like someone had dropped them in a hurry.

Marco sat behind the desk, the other coaches spaced around the room.

They were the same men who, two days earlier, barely spoke unless spoken to.

Now they felt like an actual staff.

”Alright,” Marco said.

”Talk to me. What do you think about the group? Anyone standing out? Anyone worrying you?”

They didn’t hesitate.

The first assistant leaned forward.

”The balance is good. They look sharper than last camp, especially the kids from Atalanta, Roma, AC Milan and Sassuolo. And they’re responding to instructions quickly. That wasn’t happening before.”

Another nodded.

”Training feels like training again. The tempo is higher. You can see who’s improving and who needs work. Before, we weren’t even allowed to say anything unless Baldini asked.”

Marco listened, arms folded, giving them space to speak.

It was the first time in a long while that they actually felt involved.

When the discussion slowed, he pushed himself up from the chair and walked to the tactics board.

He picked up a magnet, placed it dead in the middle, and tapped it lightly.

”Now. Leo. This is the one we need to talk about.”

The staff exchanged looks.

”He’s the only player here who hasn’t been in any previous camp,” Marco continued.

”Most of what we know is from club footage and the Japan match. On paper, he’s a central midfielder, but I want your honest thoughts.”

The assistant who had spoken earlier shifted in his seat.

”He’s versatile. Really versatile. Against Japan, he played next to Pirola as a centre-back. First impression, and for us, the first time we’d ever seen him in person, and he looked like he’d been there for years.”

The second assistant nodded.

”True. But his passing… that’s something we can use higher up the pitch. The way he sees the game is special. You don’t want that stuck at the back all the time.”

Marco nodded slowly, looking at the little magnet as if it might reveal something by itself.

”His versatility gives us options. That’s a good problem to have.”

He took another step forward and slid the magnet up, then sideways, imagining different roles as he did.

”But we need to find what allows him to play at his best,” he said.

”From the Wigan tapes, they used him almost like a roaming midfielder. A bit of everything. I don’t think that’s what we need from him here.”

He paused, tapping the board once more.

”I want to try something different. Something a bit more structured.”

The coaches waited as Marco placed the magnet just ahead of the centre-backs, exactly where a single pivot would sit.

”I’m thinking of using him as a holding midfielder,” he said.

”The base of everything.”

Marco leaned back against the edge of the table and tapped the marker against the board where Leo’s name sat in the middle of the shape, while his assistants looked at him like they were expecting more and his reasoning, so he continued.

”Alright,” Marco said, ”let me tell you why I’m leaning toward him as a holding midfielder.”

Both coaches straightened a little as Marco pointed at Leo’s name again.

”Players who can be special in that position don’t come around often. And when they do, it’s not because they run the most or shout the loudest. It’s a mix of things most kids don’t even think about.”

He raised one finger.

”First thing is positioning. The great ones look like they’re cheating, like they know the next two passes before they happen. They slide across early, cut off angles, protect space instead of chasing shadows. Leo has that. Not perfectly, but you can see the instinct. If we mould him well, together with his club, it would become another extension of him.”

One of the assistants nodded.

”He reads danger quickly. Even when you play him higher.”

”Exactly,” Marco replied.

”He’s not reactive like most, but rather, he anticipates.”