Football singularity-Chapter 344 FIrst Training

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[Mon, 12/08/2019, 9:30, Kurtekotten Bayer 04-Leistungszentrum]

The sun hung low in the morning sky, casting golden light over the meticulously groomed pitches of the Bayer 04 training facility. The air was crisp, filled with the faint hum of sprinklers and the occasional thud of a ball striking a net. Different players were strewn across the pitch going through their warm-up motions.

Rakim Rex stepped onto the pristine training grounds of Bayer 04 dressed in his black training gear. Used to the warm Florida weather he was donning a pair of black leggings under his shorts and his rex hood firmly placed on his head. His green eyes scanned the field, taking in the scene: perfectly aligned cones, a row of mannequins for free-kick drills, and the sharp contrast of red and black jerseys warming up under the watchful eyes of the fitness Coach and his team.

Rakim took a deep breath, the cool German air instantly filling his lungs as they quickly adapted. He felt like his engine was now receiving a jumpstart ready to take on the day. His heart beat a little faster as he looked around at his new teammates, he hadn’t heard about all of them but those that he did were all considered real talents.

Rakim adjusted his Titan-Hood and jogged toward the group gathered near the centre circle, their chatter a mix of German, English, and Spanish. His heart thumped in rhythm with his footsteps, a mix of nerves and excitement coursing through him. He caught sight of some of the senior players, Kai Haverts, one of the main reasons he had chosen Leverkusen over Napoli.

He effortlessly controlled the ball as he went through light passing drills with Paulinho, Bailey and Diaby. Watching them for a good minute as they got a feel for the ball, he let out a contented smile. This was his team, and though he had just joined them, they had invested 24 million into him showing they valued his potential.

Not just that they had made his transition in Germany and the city of Leverkusen easy. Helping him with his hotel as they got him in touch with a few of the top Real estate agents so he could get settled as fast as possible. "Rakim, over here!" came the booming voice of Peter Bosz, the head coach, waving him over. Rakim made his way toward the Dutchman, his stride confident and genuinely happy that he was there.

"Guten Morgen," Rakim greeted as he stood next to the man who was staring on the field as his players routinely warmed up. "Go join Wendell he will be your buddy for the next few weeks, you might even end up working with him on the left wing,"

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Rakim nodded, offering a polite "Danke, Coach" before heading toward Wendell, the Brazilian left-back. Wendell greeted him with a bright grin, his laid-back demeanour immediately putting Rakim at ease.

"Ah, Mr Florida come I show you how to play samba football, not American soccer," Wendell said, his accent thick but his English clear enough. He proceeded to dap him up before casually juggling the ball at his feet.

"Now I know you are special, heck the uncle who delivered oranges on his tricycle was also special. But you will have a hard time in the teams if you think like that without having accomplished here." He stated with a serious expression his laid-back demeanour disappearing for a second. Despite this, the ball remained glued to his feet as he flicked it up to his head balancing it for a moment before continuing.

Rakim watching him did not know how to take this guy, as he felt like his joking demeanour was simply a mask. This guy was a killer not in the life and death sense but in the park, he wasn’t one to play games. The fact he perfectly kept the ball under his control while talking was all he needed to know about this guy.

He wasn’t a journeyman but genuinely earned his spot on the team with hard work and talent. "Don’t worry, we may not have Brazil’s football history but Florida strong stands for something."

Rakim’s retort earned a hearty laugh from Wendell, who flicked the ball high into the air and effortlessly cushioned it back onto his foot. "I like you already, garoto," Wendell said, his grin returning. "Florida strong, eh? Let’s see if that means anything on the pitch."

The rest of the squad began to congregate near the centre circle as Peter Bosz blew his whistle, signalling the start of the main session. The players moved with practised ease, their movements coordinated and efficient, as they followed the Dutch coach’s training plan. Rakim made sure to keep up with the rest of the team pushing himself to the max.

He wanted everyone to know that he wasn’t just here as a gimmick and was a serious contender for a 1st team spot. He also noted how the team’s core senior players like Havertz, Bailey, and Volland naturally commanded attention, their presence imposing even among the rest of the group.

Bosz clapped his hands after 25 minutes of dynamic stretches and fitness exercises with coach Bjorn, gathering everyone’s focus. "Alright, gentlemen, standard rondo to start. Five-v-five plus two floaters. Wendell, Rakim, you’re in the middle first. Let’s see if our new signing can survive the gauntlet."

The group broke out into good-natured jeers as Rakim and Wendell stepped into the centre of the rondo. "Come on, Rex! Florida strong, right?" Wendell teased he confidently stepped into the centre not planning on staying there long.

Rakim simply ignored his words as he adjusted his stance, his green eyes scanning the circle for gaps as the ball zipped between players at lightning speed. Despite the coach not stating it no one took more than two touches moving the ball with efficiency.

They were all professional moving the ball faster than Rakim had expected them to do from the start. He wasn’t intimidated though and instead felt a fire burn inside of him as his green eyes tracked the path of the ball. Bailey and Havertz played quick one-touch passes, and Wendell began moving bursting forward to close down the area.

Without hesitation, Rakim also moved but he didn’t follow after to close Haverts down. Instead, he moved into the area slightly to the left of Wendle covering the area where he expected Havertz to send the ball. With his wide field of vision, he saw no need to expend more energy than necessary trying to close down. He’d feel stupid if he got injured on the defensive side of the game and specialised in interceptions and zonal marking.

He had realised that as an attacker who was on the extreme spectrum of attack, this was the best way of development for him. He could focus on simply attacking and do the minimum on the defensive side and still be effective like a less physical Kante. Thus, as Wendell closed in on Havertz he positioned himself in the area the left back left open.

He anticipated the path of the ball and despite it slipping past him he was right on the feet of Tah. The centre-back was startled by his sudden appearance and couldn’t even react as he poked the ball loose taking control of it in the next second. Rakim wasted no time after winning the ball, pivoting sharply to escape Tah’s immediate pressure.

He flicked the ball over an attempted challenge from Bailey, drawing a few impressed whistles from the surrounding players. Wendell grinned as he watched, jogging back into position. "Not bad, garoto. But can you keep that up all session?" Rakim smirked but kept his focus, nudging the ball back as Bailey who was to Tah’s left had to join him in the middle.

Training continued like that as the players had fun using this as a chance to get to know each other. They would intentionally play passes to their new teammate wanting to test how he would react under pressure. However, if all Rakim had to do was pass the ball he wouldn’t feel the heat, as his feet had an uncanny ability to send the ball in odd directions.

Weiser lunged into the path of the ball looking to intercept it but to his utter shock, the ball bounced off the ground flicking over his knee before calmly descending to the waiting feet of Bender. "Okay, Mr Florida, Steeling from Özil’s bag of tricks I see you," Bailey exclaimed with a wide grin as he called for the ball to get in on the action.

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To Be continued...