After spending what felt like hours sitting on the cold bathroom floor, the first rays of the morning sun crept through the small bathroom window. The warm light stretched across the tiled floor and reached Winston, who sat curled up with his knees drawn to his chest and his head resting between them.
He slowly lifted his head and stared at the sunlight for a long moment before letting out a heavy sigh. Pushing himself to his feet, he walked back to his room. Without a word, he neatly made his bed before crouching down and pulling out his sneakers and training cleats from underneath it. He left the third floor, descended to the ground floor, and sat on the curb outside Building C. Swapping his sneakers for his cleats, he tightened the laces before rising to his feet. After a few minutes of stretching, Winston jogged toward the training field. The nightmare still lingered in the back of his mind. Hoping to clear his thoughts, he began running lap after lap around the football field.
Winston went through several training drills until the bells signaling the start of dome training rang out. Slinging his training bag over his shoulder, he walked straight toward the attacking dome. Once inside, he scanned the area before spotting Oswin standing with his arms folded.
"Hey, Oswin," Winston said with a yawn. "Did you see that we didn't lose any points yesterday?"
"Morning, Wis. Yeah, I asked our instructor about it." Oswin shrugged. "He said it would've been pointless to deduct points from the teammates after a draw, so they decided only the two challengers would lose points."
As he spoke, Oswin studied Winston's face. The dark circles under his eyes and sluggish expression were hard to miss. "Didn't you get any sleep last night? You look like you've been up all night."
Winston let out another yawn before replying, "I had a nightmare. It messed me up so badly that I couldn't fall asleep again."
A worried look crossed Oswin's face. "How are you feeling now? Can you keep up with today's training?"
Oswin knew the attacking dome sessions were essential to their development as attackers. Besides, he had never seen the bald, short instructor excuse anyone from training. Free days simply didn't exist under him. Winston unscrewed the cap of his cold water bottle and took a sip.
"I'll be fine, bro. I've still got plenty of energy. I'm not exhausted—the nightmare just rattled me a little." He paused before adding, "By the way, I found out neither of us can receive another one-on-one challenge this week. I checked our rankings on my wristwatch."
Seeing Winston return to his usual self, Oswin let out a relieved sigh. "That's actually good. It'll give me time to recover and train properly. I have a feeling a lot of players will want to recruit me next week."
He grinned. "What about you? What's your plan for the rest of the week?"
"The same as always," Winston replied, tightening the bottle cap before setting it beside him. "I'll be training at the practice field near Building D. I need to work on my long-range shooting and increase my dribbling speed. Lately, I've been feeling like there's still another level I haven't reached."
The bald, short instructor walked onto the field with his hands clasped behind his back. He stopped in front of the youths, let out a quiet sigh, and swept his gaze across them.
"Today's training is about spatial awareness," he announced. "Separate yourselves into groups of five and form a circle around those cones." He pointed toward the circles of cones that had already been arranged across the field.
As the players hurried into position, the instructor walked among them, making sure each group was organized. "One player from each group, step inside the circle."
He waited until every group had someone standing in the middle before continuing. "Those of you on the outside, your job is to pressure the player in the center. Close down passing angles, force mistakes, and don't give them time to think."
He slowly paced around the groups before turning his attention to the players inside the circles.
"For those in the middle, your job is to make decisions under pressure. Use changes of pace, timing, and your spatial awareness to escape the pressure. The moment you beat your defenders and dribble out of the circle, another player immediately steps in."
He swept his gaze over the youths one last time to make sure everyone understood. Satisfied, he raised the whistle to his lips...
Fweeeet! Fweeeet! Fweeeet!
Winston and Oswin ended up in the same group, with Winston starting inside the circle of cones.
At the sound of the whistle, Winston immediately lifted his head and scanned his surroundings. He exchanged three quick passes with the players positioned around the circle. On the third pass, he received the ball on the half-turn and began weaving between the closing defenders.
He attempted to dribble his way out of the box, but the pressure came too quickly. A defender poked the ball away, and Winston stumbled out of the circle without it. Dropping to one knee, he quickly regained his balance before stepping aside for the next player.
Oswin stepped into the center.
Like Winston, he began with a series of quick passes before sweeping his gaze around the circle. The moment a defender lunged in, Oswin sold a body feint, followed it with a stepover, and slipped the ball through the defender's legs with a perfectly timed nutmeg.
Before the remaining players could close him down, he burst through the gap with the ball glued to his feet and dribbled cleanly out of the circle.
He immediately passed the ball to another teammate before jogging back to the outside.
The drill continued, with player after player taking turns inside the circle. The bald, short instructor walked calmly between the groups, occasionally stopping to observe. Whenever a player demonstrated good composure, quick decision-making, or excellent awareness under pressure, he gave a small nod of approval before moving on.
The bald, short instructor clapped his hands, bringing every group to a halt.
"Alright, now we'll be working on a tiki-taka passing drill."
He blew his whistle—Immediately, his assistants hurried onto the field and began rearranging the cones. They positioned four cones six meters apart to create passing lanes, while another five cones were arranged in a small circle at the center of each station.
Once everything was set up, the instructor walked to the front of the players, who stood with their hands clasped behind their backs. "Separate yourselves into groups of five."
After the players moved into their groups, he stepped between two cones and pointed at them. "One player starts inside the circle of cones. The remaining four form a line behind these two cones." He paused to make sure everyone was following. "The first player in line passes the ball to the player inside the circle. As soon as the pass is made, the player inside must receive it, move out of the circle, and take the passer's position."
He pointed at the cones again. "The passer immediately runs into the center of the circle and continues the sequence by exchanging quick one-touch or two-touch tiki-taka passes with the next player in line."
He demonstrated the movement with his hands. "Keep rotating after every pass. You may choose whichever direction you want, but your movement and passing must remain quick, clean, and accurate. Focus on your first touch, your body positioning, and the weight of your passes."
The instructor swept his gaze across the groups. Seeing no questions or objections, he raised the whistle to his lips.
Fweeeet!
The drill immediately came to life. Crisp one-touch passes echoed throughout the dome as the players rotated in and out of the circles. Laughter mixed with the sound of footballs rolling across the turf as the attacking players found themselves genuinely enjoying the exercise.
Most of them had expected another brutal session from the bald, short instructor. After hearing stories about his methods, they had assumed every training session would push them to the brink of collapse.
Yet this was the second consecutive session focused more on technique than punishment. The previous day's enjoyable drills had seemed like a fluke. Now, many of the players were beginning to change their opinion of him. His training was still demanding—but it was purposeful, enjoyable, and directly applicable to real match situations.
They continued training until the afternoon. Exhausted, Winston and Oswin collapsed onto the grass, trying to catch their breath. One of the bald, short instructor's assistants walked around handing bottles of water to the players. After receiving theirs, Winston and Oswin twisted off the caps almost simultaneously and took long, satisfying gulps.
"Oh my God... that's some good water," Oswin sighed, screwing the cap back on.
Winston chuckled before taking another drink. "I honestly thought today's training was going to be brutal. But I actually enjoyed it. It's completely different from the passing drills Duma used to put me through."
"Same here," Oswin replied, folding his arms beneath his head. "It's nothing like Atlas's passing drills either. I wish I could ask Atlas about this bald instructor. I want to know what kind of training he gave the senior players that made some of them quit or request transfers."
He stretched lazily and let out a satisfied sigh. "Ah... now I can finally relax until next week."
Suddenly, something clicked in his mind. Oswin immediately sat upright. "Wis!"
Winston turned toward him. "Both of us are done with our one-on-one challenges for this week... but Bongani and Hickman each still have one challenge left."