My Football Legends Chat Group-Chapter 30: England?

"Because it’s fun." He answered. Yet the moment he said this aloud, a wave of understanding finally overcame him.

"That’s right. We play this beautiful game because it is fun and we enjoy the chaos. Those guys from the B-team... look at them. They look like they are marching to a funeral."

Rio’s expression sank. What was football if it wasn’t fun?

"So what do we do? I can’t stand seeing my teammates miserable like this. We just survived relegation! We should be partying!"

Coach Michel stifled a laugh. The situation itself wasn’t funny, but seeing an eighteen-year-old rookie referring to players older than him as "guys" in such a parental tone felt a little too ironic to be ignored.

"I can’t do anything about it, they are fighting for contracts next season. But maybe you can," he said, a mysterious smile forming at the corner of his lips.

"Huh? Me?" Rio was surprised. Originally he had thought that just securing safety against Real Madrid would have lifted the mood, however judging by the B-team’s expressions, they were terrified of the summer transfer window. 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢

"You can think about that later. For now, you’re wearing the bib. Get in there." Coach Michel gave him a nudge on the shoulder, pointing at Valery who was dejectedly walking off the pitch to swap.

"Ah!" He quickly jumped up and grabbed his water bottle. Rio had been so preoccupied with the philosophy of the game that he had a complete brain fart regarding the training session.

"Sorry for making you wait." Rio waved a few times to the assistant coach and the B-team defenders, however he didn’t receive a response.

He squared up on the left wing and was prepared to strike. Like in the match against Madrid, he was aiming to burn them with speed.

[Chat Room Active]

Hand_Of_King: Destroy them! Show them the Ferrari Engine!

Total_Football_14: Be careful. Desperate players make dangerous tackles.

However, to his surprise, the right-back stood off him. He took five steps back, almost standing on his own penalty box line.

"Huh!?" Rio was flabbergasted. Were they really going to park the bus in a training scrimmage? But why?

"Pass."

"Back pass."

"Sideways."

"Long ball to nowhere."

Rio didn’t know what was going on in this situation. This had not happened in the first team training before, although the circumstances were a little different. Usually, everyone wanted to impress the coach with aggression, whereas now they just wanted to avoid mistakes.

He could only drop his shoulders and walk back to the halfway line with a confused expression.

It wasn’t until young Joel Roca tried to dribble through the center that he finally understood what was going on.

"Tactical foul."

Rio’s gaze instantly turned to the B-team coach who was wearing a clipboard like a shield. He couldn’t help but clench his fists in anger; this wasn’t football, this was a seminar on risk management.

Where were the nutmegs? The drive to challenge your teammate and win the starting spot with all of your might, no matter what?

Sure, this style of play may work in the lower leagues to scrape a point, but they were Girona. They were the team that just went toe-to-toe with the Kings of Europe.

The way this B-team coach operated broke the players down into mere cogs within a system, erasing everything that made them unique.

"What a shame." Rio said loudly as he stepped onto the ball, grabbing the attention of the few players around him. The right-back turned around with an apathetic gaze and was about to retreat into his shell again.

"Your coach must not have any faith in your defending abilities if he’s telling you to run away from me." His words were probing, attempting to get a reaction out of the defender.

The defender’s expression twisted for a moment, showing a flash of anger before it returned to normal. Rio could instantly tell that he was not parking the bus of his own volition.

"That’s why I said that it’s a shame. I was looking forward to seeing if you could stop me without a safety net." He shrugged his shoulders, looking disappointed.

Frustration appeared on the defender’s face but he held it in and turned to face Mateo who had just received the ball. Rio was pleased by this reaction; it meant that at least one of the players was not satisfied with the anti-football orders.

However, the defender still did as he was instructed by retreating further. Rio wasn’t too surprised by this, but he finally felt as if he had found a way to perhaps help these guys enjoy football once more.

Next up to attack was Stuani who received the ball with his back to goal. While this might seem like a scoring chance, with their constricted defensive line and ten men behind the ball, it would be difficult to find a shooting angle.

The B-team coach blew his whistle, signaling for the defense to collapse. A collapse was a tactic where three defenders would swarm the ball carrier to force a back pass, as long as it was executed without a foul.

Rio saw the signal and made a run behind the defense, stalking the space and waiting for the flick.

Mateo threw the ball right down the middle, prompting Stuani to hold out his leg and cushion it towards Rio. However, the B-team defenders used too many bodies and practically walled off the passing lane with a flurry of shirts.

They cleared the ball into the parking lot, completing the objective of ’Do Not Concede’.

"Ball out, reset!"

Rio slowed down his run before heading back to the center circle, but not before letting out an audible sigh and speaking his mind.

"Man, what a boring session. It feels like I’m playing against robots with no personality or balls."

His loud words drew the attention of the B-team players who were resetting their shape. A few looked over with downcast expressions, while the right-back looked furious. He stormed over to Rio and got in his face.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

The defender was tall and lanky, towering over Rio, yet he looked rattled.

Rio raised his hands, not showing any signs of aggression in return.

"Hey man, I was just saying that a game like this isn’t fun at all."

"Hah, fun? What’s the point in having fun if you get released? As long as we keep a clean sheet then nothing else matters..." The tall defender scoffed, dismissing Rio’s words.

"Those don’t sound like your true feelings." Rio replied.

The defender’s face flickered for a moment before his anger rose once again. "Shut up, rookie. We’ll stop you by any means necessary. Even if it’s ugly."

After those words, he began to walk away back to his defensive line before the assistant coach intervened to restart play.

Rio stared at his back for a moment before replying. "Then why did you start football? Was it only to keep a clean sheet?"

These words made the defender pause for a moment, yet he continued walking back, ignoring the question.

The training session ended in a 0-0 stalemate. It was the antithesis of the Madrid game. No passion, no risk, just fear.

Rio walked off the pitch, wiping sweat from his forehead, feeling more tired from the mental boredom than the physical exertion.

"Lance!"

A voice called out from the sideline. Rio looked up to see Quique Cárcel, the Sporting Director, standing there with a man he didn’t recognize.

The stranger was wearing a thick raincoat despite the Spanish heat, and he looked like he had been chewing on gravel for breakfast.

"Rio, come here," Quique waved him over.

Rio jogged over, grabbing a towel. "What’s up, Quique? Did I get fined for calling the B-team robots?"

"No," Quique chuckled, though the stranger remained stone-faced. "This is Mr. Thompson. He’s a scout from England."

"England?" Rio blinked.

"Leeds United," the man grunted. His accent was thick, Yorkshire bred. "I watched the session."

"Oh," Rio scratched the back of his head. "Sorry you had to see that. It was... boring."

"Boring?" Mr. Thompson raised an eyebrow. "I saw a lad trying to start a fight because the standards were too low. I saw a lad who hates safety."

Rio felt a sudden chill. This wasn’t the reaction he expected.

"We need that fire in the Championship," the scout continued, stepping closer. "It’s a war over there, son. 46 games. Rain. Mud. Defenders who will try to break your legs, not just park the bus."

Rio looked at Quique, confused.

"Leeds want you on loan for next season," Quique explained, his voice serious. "They are pushing for promotion to the Premier League. They want you to be their spark."

"The Premier League..." Rio muttered. The words tasted like gold.

Hand_Of_King: England? The food is terrible! But the fans... the fans are crazy. I like it.

Total_Football_14: It is a physical league. It will either break you or make you a man.

Zizou_5: A loan? It is good for development. But Leeds... that is a heavy shirt to wear.

"Think about it," the scout said, handing Rio a card with a white rose on it. "We don’t want robots. We want rebels."

Rio looked at the card, then back at the pitch where the B-team was silently packing up their gear.

"I’ll think about it," Rio said, a small smile creeping onto his face.

The scout nodded and walked away with Quique.

Rio stood there, the card heavy in his hand. A loan to England? A war in the mud?