Morning in London feels like a giant lid has been placed over it, covered by a thin layer of mist like an old veil. The gloomy atmosphere is rarely seen in this splendid city; winter makes everything seem to sink deep into slumber. It also causes people's moods to sink, as is often the case.
"The scene, by its nature, was melancholic,
How could it be cheerful when one was in grief." (1)
The black car, like a silent shadow, moved neither too fast nor too slowly, just enough to witness all the life of London in early winter.
I didn't feel any joy when Darius woke me up early in the morning like that. I intended to rest for a week before replying to the letter from Youth Intersection, but my assistant couldn't wait that long; he wrote a response that very evening. Truly a bothersome Alpha.
"You will be participating in the coaching position, so you need to listen and not be too direct. The kids will be scared of you if you show your face."
He spoke as if I were a monster that bullied children, ready to explode if they didn't obey me.
"I know, just call me when you get there."
I replied lazily, and since I was still too sleepy, I had to take a nap for a while.
" Hello Mr. Arthur, I am the coach of Youth Intersection - Maxwell .Thank you very much for agreeing to our proposal. "
The man smiled lightly as he spoke. He had black, slightly curly hair, with strands falling down his forehead as if he had just been active.
" Yes, hello Mr. Maxwell. I am also looking forward to meeting the future professional players of our country. "
I extended my hand to respond to the handshake of the coach.
" YOUTH INTERSECTION!!! FOCUS IN FIVE MINUTES, I HAVE SOMETHING TO ANNOUNCE TO EVERYONE. "
The powerful and firm voice rang out. Just through the voice, one could tell that this man had undergone very rigorous training in the past.
Before my eyes were rows of neatly arranged young men, all with strong, youthful faces, filled with the spirit of youth. Their eyes sparkled as if a flame had ignited within them. I could sense that if any challenges or difficulties arose, these kids would still face them and overcome.
I was invited as a guest coach, so I have to be present at every training session of the kids. Although at their age, I often skipped training because I was too tired.
"From 7:30 to 9:30, we will train outdoors, and from 3:00 to 4:30, we will train in the gym."
Morning training usually includes exercises such as warm-up - body warming, strength - speed - reflexes, individual techniques - group coordination - tactics, and finally, relaxation - recovery.
We warm up with running around the field, then small steps, jumps, hip rotations, and thigh stretches. The ball rolls back and forth among the players, changing direction continuously. Eyes, feet, ears, all senses must work simultaneously. Breathing gradually increases, sweat beads on the forehead and back of the shirt.
"Have you researched these young players yet?"
While I was lost in thought observing everyone, a familiar voice rang out; it was the coach.
"Unfortunately, my rest time in London was too rushed, so I only managed to respond to the center's letter. I am observing the players, so you can rest assured."
Mr. Maxwell's question once again urged me to give feedback to my assistant. He needs to be more patient.
Finally, we have arrived at the part of training that I enjoy the most - gym workouts. This is a supplementary part for the players, helping to stabilize the body, prevent injuries, and improve performance during competitions. Indeed, the gym is a place for future treasures, with all the equipment being of the highest quality, cleaned thoroughly after each training session.
The exercises are divided into groups: strength training, balance, and recovery. Depending on the competition position and physical condition, the content is always adjusted to suit each individual.
The exercise I love the most is weightlifting. It makes me feel more excited as I push past the limits from previous sessions. Unfortunately, I forgot to bring my gloves, but the exercises are too captivating for me. I had to lift weights with bare hands.
My fingers rested on the cold metal of the barbell. The weights lifted off the ground, and my hands ached persistently from the continuous pressure. My fingers stiffened, and my joints cracked in silence. One rep, two reps, then three reps... my hands could no longer withstand the continuous pressure, and when I released the barbell, a stream of red blood flowed out; the skin on my hand had torn.
"Hey, are you okay?" - a boy standing nearby asked me.
"I'm fine, I just need to wash the wound a bit."
The cold water only intensified the pain from the injury. Not wanting to bother anyone, I decided not to go to the medical room but just bandaged it roughly and continued with my work.
But how could I possibly fool my talkative manager, Alpha? He saw the injury and insisted I go to the infirmary. But I really don't like the smell in that room at all. So why can't I just go buy some antiseptic myself?
"Hello, how can I help you?"
I walked into the pharmacy despite Darius complaining about the expense.
"I need antiseptic for a wound."
"A minor injury, right? You're okay, aren't you? Then you should buy Povidone-Iodine."
Even though I didn't know what that was, I just nodded to get it over with.
"Be careful using it, only for external use, and remember to clean the area before applying," I was reminded as I took the package of medicine.
But it was really strange; that reminder made me feel "happy" in a peculiar way. How long has it been since I received a word of concern?