61 You Will Not Play

Blaise Atkinson entered the Sheffield Blades facility at exactly ten in the morning with his earphones on.

This would be considered incredibly late in most days, but by now Blaise Atkinson is used to the late start on the mornings after a game day here in Sheffield Blades.

He was supposed to be here half an hour ago though, but he insisted on taking a detour with his father to university and saw him off.

He wanted to pull out all the stops to avert the disaster his beloved father suffered in his past life. If that sincere gesture would be able to increase his chances, then he's glad to do so.

Besides, he's not late anyway.

Blaise walked past the busy academy training pitches with a smile, humming his favorite tune while reminiscing about his own academy days. His was a ridiculous one, so he'll never forget about it.

He didn't even realize that someone humming the same tune had sprung up beside him, while also having the same carefree attitude.

He only saw it several minutes later once he stopped humming as he entered the administrative building.

"Howdy, mate!" Alain Prosser had a dumb grin on his face when Blaise noticed him. "Welcome to the 'always late to video analysis meeting club!'"

Blaise couldn't stop himself from yelling, "I'm not late yet…" His words trailed off at the end, as he immediately regretted it upon hearing the manager's annoying voice through the walls of the video room.

The reborn man ran the fastest he'd ever ran in his two lives, meanwhile the man beside him stood there stupefied at the sudden shift in his teammate's mood. Alain only heard the door open and close several meters ahead of him, followed by the annoying voice raising it up a notch by being even more annoying than usual.

Alain shrugged his shoulders and hummed another tune as he continued strolling leisurely to the door like he's not in any trouble himself.

"I'm sorry, boss!" Blaise was rooted at the spot with an apologetic smile. He won't spew out excuses knowing that this boss of his was the kind that's stubborn about the right conduct a player is required to have. "I'll take responsibility for my tardiness in this video analysis session."

"I'll take this as a warning. One more and you'll be penalized accordingly." Manager Steve Bronson's voice went deeper than it was supposed to be, hiding the fact that the veins in his temples were about to pop from anger. "You are a youngster. Cultivating bad habits at such a young age can and will derail your career at some point in the future. Back in your seat, lad."

The video replay of the match last night managed to continue only for a few seconds when another person entered the room with as little presence as he could muster. His efforts were to no avail… as anyone would expect.

Over twenty heads swiveled into Alain Prosser's direction, some were frowning, the others were holding back their laughter, and the rest had an expression that would translate into something like 'you're fucking dead, mate.'

Among those heads were the balding head of the manager, who was once again on the verge of a breakdown. He's livid that the two youngest members, those that were supposed to be purer than normal, were breaking the most fundamental rules he set on the team. The first one is fine, since it was a first offense, but this particular teenager… broke the same rule several times already! In fact, he breaks it every match!

"I'll take responsibility for this—" Before Alain could say anything significant, Bronson interrupted him with a wave of his hand.

"You will not play in the next match."

Eyebrows rose and mouths opened within Sheffield's first team after their coach's quick and decisive action. The older players didn't have the same exaggerated reaction, as even they had suffered the same fate on a few occasions.

But telling players about penalties should be in closed doors, and personal. So even those that had a lot of experience regarding football punishments and club punishments are stunned about what their manager did to the loanee youngster.

"Boss, isn't this too hasty?" The closest player to the manager, captain Damian Potts said in a calm manner.

"No. Even if he's the greatest of all time, or the highest paid player in the world, or even if he's the son of the club owner, he can't be above the club rules every single time." Every word that came out of the manager's mouth was savage and full of authority. "Next time this happens, you'll be frozen out. Get to your seat."

Alain Prosser's face was a terrified mask as he walked to the back in shame. He can't even manage to clench his fists in frustration about the manager's decision.

"Own up to your mistakes, kid." The steady hand of Trent Hastings landed on the shoulder of the youngster in reassurance. "You're not too old to change yet. It's rather you be punished now and change, or never at all."

His back suddenly went straight, and his eyes refocused and gained a new fire. He nodded and went to the back of the room alongside his fellow reprimanded youngster.

"Are you going to take things seriously from now on?" Blaise wasn't looking at him, and instead to the front. "Well you don't want to be returned to your team with your head hung low, am I right?"

"I have no choice." Alain said in an almost grumbling tone. "It's a dog eat dog world out there anyway."

"There we go. I'm looking forward to it."

"Fuck you… I can't play next game…" Alain grumbled even more and started losing focus at the video meeting again.

I really hate this video thing...

***

For most teams in the continent, December had always been the time for the holidays.

There's mostly only a handful of fixtures, a long break at the latter weeks of the year, and some transfer activity.

However, December had always been brutal for English clubs.

It's normal to have two to three games a week, and fixtures compact even more as the month went on. The English game doesn't have a winter break, owing to the fact that there are several domestic cups ongoing, and the league games piling up due to postponements.

The new year should be the second half of the season after all.

It keeps the excitement surrounding the English game at a high, with people from the other major European nations tuning in to the English game as their own domestic leagues take a breather.

Plus, with all the cramped schedules in the latter half of the month, opportunities are aplenty for fringe players, and some of the more outstanding youth, of most teams. Owing to the fact that stamina issues, injury, suspensions, and rotations, take many of the teams' best players down.

Luckily for Sheffield, since they have no rescheduled games so far, they have until the next weekend before their match.

***

A few minutes ago.

Today was Serra's first job interview. She came to the Sheffield United complex with a smile on her face, looking forward to seeing the headquarters of the team his grandparents loved.

She exited the administrative building carrying the same smile as before. She thought that everything went well.

She breathed in a lungful of air, upon noticing the lively atmosphere of the youth players in the training grounds. She wondered… "What if I see him here…"

Blushing, she continued on. Until… she heard two people around her age, humming the same tune from a few meters away.

"It's him!" Serra's eyes glimmered at one of the two, her heartbeat sped up to a dangerous level, and butterflies filled her stomach. She looked lost, and all of a sudden turned tail and ran.

Serra had never felt this feeling before in her life.