Football singularity

Please vote to show me your support for the story. The higher we climb in the rankings, the more motivated I will feel. Mass releases will be rewarded for each 10 rankings we manage to climb.

#More than 10 chapters ahead on my Patreon: patreon.com/TrikoRex

{!!!Please leave a review, it helps me a lot and lets me know how many people are invested in the future of this novel!!!}

~~~

[Later That Day – German U-20 Training Grounds, Łódź]

The air was crisp and clear as the German U-20 squad gathered on the practice pitch for their final session before the biggest game of their lives. Well, maybe just the tournament, but that is the type of seriousness the coaching staff wanted them to adopt for this match. Coaches paced the touchlines, barking instructions while assistants set up cones, mini-goals, and possession grids.

The players were all in high spirits, especially given how relaxed their day had been. Much like how active Muay Thai fighters in Thailand wouldn't do full contact practice, they simply went through the motions. They worked on getting their bodies primed and ready for what they would face tomorrow.

If anyone had any last niggles or was feeling pain, then the trainers took care of them. It was about preparing bodies and minds for the challenge ahead of them. Rakim, now sporting a black durag over his freshly waved cut, jogged alongside Wirtz and Tillman as they went through their evening low-impact session. The three exchanged light-hearted jabs and laughter between stretches, with no one mentioning the game against England.

Coaches rotated them through rondos, quick-passing drills, and tactical walkthroughs. The idea was to conserve energy but keep mental sharpness at a peak. Oftentimes, Coach Baum would stop the match and ask players to explain why they made a certain pass and why certain players chose to run into a certain space.

When he asked you a question, you better have a good enough answer for him, or your teammates did 10 press-ups in your place. While that may not seem that bad, anyone who has ever played a team sport would know that was a shit place to be at. Being the reason why your team suffered, even if it's just training, can quickly lead to being ostracised and a lack of trust on the field.

Coach Baum's methodical approach meant players weren't just going through the motions but actively analysing every movement. When Jonas Hofmann, one of the assistant coaches, signalled Rakim to explain a particular passing sequence, he broke down the spatial dynamics from his perspective with surgical ease.

"Wirtz's initial move with the ball drew in both Dennis and Kevin, which opened up a pocket of space behind Kevin for me to run into. However, Armel was sneaking too far forward for my liking, and he didn't look like he was gonna give me time to pull a fast one on him." Rakim demonstrated, moving his hands to illustrate the tactical nuance.

"Plus, our goal was to maintain possession, and thus going and drawing Asta out seemed like the safer option," he continued explaining as he moved back out to his position once again receiving Wirtz's pass.

His foot flashed over the ball as if he had exploded down the flank before knocking it back down the line with the outside of his foot. Noah calmly received the ball, leaving Asta, who had charged forward to grasp nothing but air and whiplash.

~~~

[England U-20 Team Hotel – Łódź]

While the Germans wrapped up their final touches under the fading Polish sun, the mood inside the England U-20 team's camp was much more relaxed. The players had already gone through their day of preparation and could now be seen doing their best to relax. For some, that meant hitting the sauna or visiting the hotel's massage lounge, while others relaxed by hitting the consoles set up in the lounge.

In one corner of the lounge, Saka, Jude and Jamal figures can be seen chilling as they buried their heads into their phones. Saka had a pair of cold wraps around his knees while Jamal and Jude had swapped their boots for slippers and sat nestled into the leather couches, idly scrolling through clips and highlights from recent matches.

"Bro," Jamal suddenly called out, breaking the silence as he tilted his phone toward the other two, "Rakim is not the slightest bit worried about facing us tomorrow."

"How you figure that?" Jude absentmindedly asked, already tired of hearing this name that everyone loved to make out as the second coming of Ronaldo.

He knew he was just as good as him and had proven that by becoming the youngest player to ever play for Birmingham at just 16 and 38 days. Now he was representing England for the Under-20 World Cup, which in itself shouldn't be any less than what Rakim had achieved. He was not willing to consider Rakim winning a trophy in a backwards league like Scotland as something impressive.

"He was shooting a YouTube video about his hair with some American YouTuber," Jamal said with a smile as he showed them the snippet of the video that had just pooped up on his Twitter feed.

"Man's got waves now," Saka said, squinting at the screen. "You can't even hate—he cleaned up well."

Jude leaned forward to look but didn't smile. "Cool, I guess, but none of that is gonna help him get past me tomorrow."

Saka merely smiled, "Jealousy doesn't suit you, bro, just keep doing what you're doing, and you will reach my level one day."

Hearing his words, Jude reflexively reached for the pillow next to him and launched it at his face, only for Saka to animatedly head it towards Jamal. "Dang FIFA really sleeping on your heading skills bro, last I saw it wasn't it like 40 with your 65 overall," Jamal exclaimed as he skilfully caught the small pillow with his left foot and proceeded to juggle it as he ignored Saka's displeased expression.

"You shut your mouth with that blasphemy," Saka exclaimed, directly jumping up from his couch. "Mark my words, I will be one of the biggest names for England when I join the senior team, and it's 4,5 not 40"

"Pfft hahah," though his words were meant to regain his image as the two seniors, neither Jamal nor Jude to him seriously and burst out laughing. "Sure, you will, little Starboy,"

Jamal gave Saka a friendly shove with his shoulder, still smirking. "Just don't forget us little people when you've got your own Niki billboard in Piccadilly."

Saka sat back down, pulling his hoodie up dramatically. "You mean when I win the Ballon d'Or before any of y'all? Bet."

Jude rolled his eyes but couldn't help the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He leaned back into the sofa and stared at the ceiling, his voice more serious now. "Jokes aside… Rakim and Wirtz, yeah, they're trouble."

Jamal nodded, his playful demeanour fading slightly. "That left side? Nasty. Wirtz can thread passes you don't even see coming, and Rakim's got that slippery movement, like… he's not super explosive, but he glides past you."

Saka chimed in, more thoughtful now, "It's the timing, too. They don't force it. They wait until you step wrong, then boom—one-two, and they're in behind."

Jude exhaled through his nose, brows furrowing. "Yeah, I noticed that. The real problem is how danm versatile they both are. Although Wirtz plays as a CAM, he can play anywhere in the midfield and attack. Their chemistry is what is truly scary, though, as Wirtz can pick Rakim out from anywhere instantly sending him on attack mode."

A silence settled between them for a moment. "You scared?" Saka asked, his tone not mocking—just curious.

Jude shook his head. "No. Not scared. Just… excited at the thought of neutralising such an effective attacking duo in our age group."

Jamal leaned forward, elbows on knees, eyes steady. "Yeah, well, that's the mindset we need. This is the finals, everyone on their team is elite, so we can't underestimate them."

"You all worry too much, just keep creating chances and I will put them away," The voice of Maso Greenwood resounded from behind Jude and Jamal, slightly startling them. "We are by far the most talented group of players and dominant team in this tournament, and we just need to continue what we have been doing; it's just business as usual."

Jude turned to see Mason's tall figure standing behind them for who knows how long. The sun filtered through the window, casting a warm glow that highlighted Mason's confident stride. "Business as usual, huh?" Jude replied, a smirk creeping back onto his face. "You make it sound easy."

Mason plopped down on the couch next to Saka, his expression unyieldingly relaxed as he stretched his arms. "Because it is," he stated matter-of-factly. "We haven't come this far to start doubting ourselves now. Tomorrow, it's just another game—and we've been dominating no matter who's in front of us."

"Just don't go missing any more of my crosses," Saka commented from the side, directly ruining the confidant expression plastered on Mason's face. "He is right, though, as long as StarBoy is on your team, 'everything is gonna be all right,'"

.

.

.

.

To Be Continued...