CHAPTER 174: A NEW KIND OF PRESSURE

Chapter 174: A New Kind of Pressure

November 14th, 2010

The press conference ended, and the media scrum dispersed.

The players went back to training, their minds back on the game.

The media could ask all the questions they wanted.

But they couldn’t touch the quiet confidence that was growing inside the team.

The real story?

It wasn’t in front of microphones or on the evening news.

It was out there on the pitch, in every pass, every sprint, every moment.

And it was only just getting started.

The training ground, usually calm and focused, had a different feel today.

There was a charge in the air, a restless, buzzing energy left behind by the swarm of reporters who had crowded the gates not long ago.

Inside the locker room, though, things were steady.

No one was celebrating the win in Norway anymore.

That Chapter was closed for now.

Niels didn’t need to say a word about it they all knew the job wasn’t done.

He walked straight to the whiteboard, picked up a marker, and with a few quick strokes, drew the Southampton crest.

That was all he needed to say. Eyes locked in. The next challenge had arrived.

"Boys," Niels began, his voice calm but firm. "Next up is Southampton. There’s a reason they’re one of the favorites to win the league. They’re fast. They’re tough. And they don’t make many mistakes."

He turned to the whiteboard and quickly sketched out Southampton’s expected formation, a classic, no-nonsense 4-4-2.

Two aggressive strikers up top, always looking to pounce.

Wingers who not only pushed forward but tracked back with grit and discipline.

"They’re going to press us high," Niels said, tapping the board for emphasis. "They won’t sit back and wait for a mistake they’ll try to force it. Also they are fast, organized, and relentless. They hunt in packs. The moment we lose focus, they’ll be all over us."

Niels turned to Jamal, the steady anchor in midfield.

"Jamal, the pressure’s on you this time. You’re not going to have the space you’re used to. The moment you get the ball, they’ll be on you. You’ll have less time than you’ve had all season. You need to be sharp. You need to be perfect."

Jamal didn’t flinch. He just nodded, his expression calm, eyes locked in. He didn’t need to say anything.

He knew exactly what was being asked of him and what it would take to deliver.

Niels shifted his gaze to the front of the room, where Max Simons and Korey Henry sat side by side, lacing up their boots.

"Max, Korey," he said, his tone steady but pointed. "This isn’t just about putting the ball in the net. You’ll need patience and discipline. They’ll play a high line, press hard, and try to squeeze the game into our half.

But that leaves space behind them. Tiny pockets. That’s where the game could be won."

He paused for a beat, making sure they were listening. "Wait for your moment. And when it comes, make it count."

Max gave a slight nod, jaw clenched. Korey cracked his knuckles and muttered, "Got it."

They were ready.

The team stepped onto the pitch for training, leaving behind the calm, measured rhythm of earlier sessions.

Today was different.

The drills were fast and fierce designed to test their speed, sharpen their decision-making, and force them to move the ball quickly under relentless pressure.

There was no time to hesitate.

Every touch had to count.

Every pass needed to be sharp.

The intensity in the air was electric, a clear signal that the real challenge was just around the corner.

Dev found himself locked in a drill with Nate Sutton, who was focused on sharp footwork and quick control in tight spaces.

The ball flew between them at a nearly frantic pace, their movements sharp and precise, but all the while two defenders pressed hard, closing down every inch.

There was no room for mistakes each pass had to be perfect, each touch lightning-fast.

The pressure was intense, but it pushed them to move faster, think quicker, and stay sharper than ever.

"They’ll be all over you," Nate said, his breath steaming in the cold air. "No time to think. Just need to react."

Dev wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, even though the chill bit at his skin. He knew Nate was right.

This wasn’t the time for fancy moves or hesitation.

He had to be sharp, fast, and disciplined, every second mattered.

Niels blew his whistle sharply, calling the team in close for a huddle. His eyes scanned every face, steady and determined.

"We’re not going to beat them with talent alone," he said, his voice low but fierce. "We’re going to beat them with discipline. With patience and mainly teamwork so we need to stay united. We’ll outthink them, outwork them, and wear them down."

The team leaned in, feeling the weight and the promise in his words.

The second half of the session shifted focus to defense.

Led by Liam McCulloch, the backline drilled hard on maintaining their shape, resisting the sharp, diagonal runs of the opposing forwards.

Every player knew how crucial it was to stay organized and disciplined.

Meanwhile, full-backs Reece Darby and Callum Haines practiced tucking in tightly, guarding the central areas and cutting off dangerous passing lanes.

The work was tough, demanding sharp communication and split-second decisions but they were ready for it.

After a few minutes, Niels called out, "Reece, you’re not a winger. If you push too far up the pitch, they’ll punish us. This is about balance, defense comes first."

Reece, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, nodded quietly. He loved charging forward, testing defenders, and making plays.

But he knew Niels was right.

This game demanded something different a sharper focus, a tougher discipline.

As the session came to a close, Niels gathered the team one last time. His voice was calm but filled with quiet strength.

"The media will call them favorites," he said. "They’ll say we’re a nice story but that the fairy tale is over. Let them talk. We’re not a fairy tale. We’re a team and we’ll fight till the last whistle."

The players exchanged looks, the weight of his words settling in as it was a fuel for the battle ahead.

The players walked off the pitch, tired but determined.

They felt the weight of a new challenge a different kind of pressure settling in.

But this was what they had trained for.

The game wasn’t about proving others wrong anymore.

It was about proving to themselves that they belonged.

The locker room was quiet, the kind of silence that comes after hard work focused, thoughtful, and full of unspoken promises.

No one celebrated or complained.

They just prepared themselves for the upcoming match.

Jamal peeled off his training gear, muscles aching but mind sharp.

Max and Korey sat nearby, heads together, already planning their next moves.

Everyone was ready to step up, to do whatever it took.

Outside, the sun dipped low, casting long shadows over the pitch.

Tomorrow was another day, another chance to show what they were made of.

And deep down, each player knew this was just the beginning of their story one built on grit, belief, and the unbreakable bond of a team.

[ IMPORTANT NOTICE! A Dark Time in Nepal

I’m scared.What started as peaceful protests against corruption has turned into chaos. Students and innocent people are being shot and killed. I never thought I’d feel unsafe in my own home... but I do now.

The government has already banned several social media platforms, and there are strong rumors that the entire internet may be shut down. If that happens, I won’t be able to post and I don’t know for how long.

But as long as I’m safe... and still connected... I’ll keep posting 2 Chapters a day. It’s the one thing I can still hold onto right now.

Please... keep Nepal in your thoughts. We’re living through something terrifying.]