Harbinger Of Glory

Spalletti applauded as the last set finished, then he turned and looked at the sideline.

”You lot must be exhausted from all that watching,” he said as he addressed the white bibbed players that had been left behind and the few red bibbed players that had been left behind with them.

As he spoke, Leo got to his feet, waiting on what the man would do next, and he didn’t have to wait long.

After speaking for about half a minute, Spalletti split the remaining white bibs and the three leftover reds into the same structure, one set of attackers, midfielders and defenders, and since the numbers worked out exactly, there was no waiting group this time.

Everyone was playing.

As he got onto the pitch, Leo felt something tighten in his chest.

Spalletti started the ball, and soon the particular tension of performing in front of people who have been watching you be used as an example gripped him a bit, but he brushed it off as quickly as it came.

Spalletti watched keenly, and so did the players who were about to find out if Leo was worth being used as an example for them.

As the whistle went, the midfielders quickly got to action, springing the ball around and keeping it as much as they could, away from the defenders.

Their opponents, on the other hand, kept their composure and tried their best not to get too stuck in or sucked out of the defensive line, as they were always at risk of getting the ball snuck past them onto the feet of the strikers who were also lurking around and behind them.

While this went on, Leo mostly stuck to the concept, not really doing anything groundbreaking, and this went on for almost a minute, with the defenders not really having to face a single pass.

It was almost getting repetitive, and that led to some sneers and jeers coming out of the touchlines, but as quickly as it came, it vanished.

Perlotta, looking to make use of someone, stepped out of the defensive line to chase Leo, who had the ball coming his way.

Reading it as Leo trying to get away from the press, Perlotta chased as Leo moved sharply right, but the former still stuck to him.

While he did so, Leo went limp, his stride dying completely, and stood still.

Perlotta, on the other hand, chased empty ground for two more strides before the sound from the sideline reached him.

It was the sound of laughing and whistling.

The sound of people watching someone be fooled cleanly.

Perlotta looked once again, and looked closely at Leo before finally realising that Leo, despite having the ball come his way, had never actually had the ball.

Matteo Pessina had it, having received it in the space Leo had vacated by Perlotta chasing his ghost run.

Perlotta, on the other hand, stood in the middle of the pitch looking at the situation with the expression of a man accepting something unpleasant.

From the side, Moise Kean and El Shaarawy were on the floor and in shambles, trying to keep themselves from laughing, but it was too much.

Taking advantage of Perlotta’s lapse in concentration, Leo ran onto the ball from Pessina and didn’t think about it,

It felt like a pass was coming, but instead, he just hit it with his left foot, full of pace and not much else.

The ball was aimed in the general direction of the goal, and it went straight and hard, and it went past Donnarumma before the goalkeeper had fully committed to a direction.

The pitch went quiet for a second, and then once more, the slow whistles came, the surprised kind.

Leo too stood where he’d struck it with his shooting form still held, looking at where the ball was sitting in the net, and then looked at his left foot briefly like even he was surprised.

On the touchline, Spalletti’s face had done nothing at all.

It felt like he hadn’t even watched that, or that it just wasn’t what he wanted.

Leo couldn’t help but glance at him, but after he met Spalletti’s gaze, he didn’t look at him for long.

With no other player again, the session restarted with the same players.

This time, Leo found Carlo in a slightly deeper pocket.

The understanding between them surfaced almost immediately, one movement inviting the next until they were linking play without needing to look twice.

That communication between the two alone was an eye candy of its own because it felt like it could go on forever, but after a soft touch, Toloi stepped out to win the ball as it came toward Leo.

Leo, realising he would lose the ball even if he got to it first, spun and shielded it instead.

Forced to meet the back of Leo, Toloi halted a bit as Leo took advantage of this sudden hesitation and flicked it to Bonaventura, who tried something but got blocked.

With no out, the ball broke loose setting off a chase but leo, anticipated it well and got to it, his control almost making him feel rushed, so much so that the defenders all surrounded him like a snake trying to suffocate it’s prey but to their surprise, Leo, using the same controlling form, flicked the ball over the defensive line and into Carlo’s path.

The eyes of the players all around raised because most were sure that with that one-touch rule in place, they wouldn’t really think of that.

The defensive players all watched as Carlo took one touch without letting the ball touch the ground.

And then, instead of the powerful effort that the body shape suggested was coming, he stroked it, rolling it slowly past Donnarumma, who had braced for something fast and received something gentle.

The ball crossed the line before the goalkeeper had finished preparing for what didn’t come, and after that sequence silence reigned long.

On the touchline, Spalletti said nothing still.

He pressed his lips together and looked at the pitch with the expression of a man keeping a thought to himself.

Marco appeared beside him, having given up the linesman role sometime in the previous hour, and looked at the pitch and then at Spalletti with a smirk.

”You haven’t seen anything,” he muttered just loud enough for it to seem like a thought that had escaped to Spalletti.