Touchline Rebirth: From Game To Glory-Chapter 120: Training Intensifies
Chapter 120: Training Intensifies
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Over a week had passed since the squad’s last tough training session. Broadfield Stadium buzzed with energy, and the training pitches glowed under the late July sun, heating Crawley’s humid air.
Niels arrived as the sky turned golden, his old pickup truck rumbling to a stop near the training ground. The air smelled of warm grass and the soft hum of a nearby coffee cart.
His heart beat fast, a mix of adrenaline and focus, with the season’s first whistle only weeks away.
Today’s session was about pushing the squad to their limits with tough fitness drills, focused tactics, and building strong teamwork to handle League One’s tough challenges.
With Paul Pogba and Luke Freeman settling in, this training could ignite Crawley’s season.
Niels held a worn clipboard filled with drill plans and formations, shifting from 4-3-3 to 4-2-3-1. Pogba and Freeman’s names were written down like the keys to success.
These two could be the spark to ignite the league.
Niels checked his watch as the sun dipped lower, feeling the weight of the upcoming season settle on his shoulders. Around him, the players laughed and warmed up, unaware of the challenges ahead.
But Niels knew this was just the beginning, a journey that would test their strength, skill, and heart.
He stepped onto the training field, the sound of cones clicking and players chatting filling the cool morning air like a quiet battle cry.
Today was about shaping a team that could fight hard and shine bright and Niels was ready to lead the charge.
The session kicked off with a tough fitness circuit sprint intervals tearing across the field, then long runs that left muscles burning and lungs struggling.
Thomas, the fitness coach, paced the sidelines like a drill sergeant, his Dutch accent sharp and clear. "Keep going! No slowing down!" he shouted, stopwatch in hand as players pushed through the wet, muddy grass.
Niels called the squad together for tactical drills, putting Pogba and Freeman side by side in midfield to work on their timing and teamwork. "You’re the engine," he said, firm but supportive, watching them closely. "Pogba, control the game and set the rhythm. Freeman, find the spaces. Communicate, make it automatic and natural."
During a high-pressure possession drill, Pogba’s long strides covered ground, his passes sharp but occasionally just behind the pace, still adapting to Crawley’s nonstop tempo.
Freeman, quieter, slipped through like a shadow, his quick feet and sharp vision spotting openings others missed.
Their voices overlapped, Pogba’s loud commands mixing with Freeman’s short, precise calls but Niels saw sparks of connection, like gears beginning to mesh.
Kieron Marsh, full of restless energy, faced off against Freeman in a one-on-one drill, grinning with a mix of challenge and fun. "Show me what you’ve got, mate," Kieron teased, lunging for the ball.
Freeman feinted left, then sliced right, slipping a smooth nutmeg past Kieron, who hit the ground. The squad cheered, but Kieron jumped up, laughing. "Alright, you’re cheeky! Better watch out next time!" 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮
The drill quickly turned into a fierce showdown Kieron’s tackles grew harder, and Freeman’s tricks more daring.
During shooting practice, Kieron fired a powerful shot that almost ripped through Adam Fletcher’s gloves. Freeman responded with a curling strike that brushed the post and found the net.
The squad erupted in cheers, with Dev teasing, "Oi, Freeman, trying to show us up already?" Niels smiled, knowing this rivalry was the spark he could fuel into something greater.
On the wings, Max and Thiago were a force to reckon with, practicing attacking overlaps and fast breaks. Max’s nonstop runs pulled defenders wide, opening space for Thiago to burst inside with lightning speed.
In one move, Max faked a cross, letting Thiago slip past a defender and fire a shot that just grazed the bar. "That’s it!" Niels shouted, clapping loudly. "Keep breaking them down!"
Emma prowled the sidelines, her notebook open, eyes scanning for any hint of strain.
She caught Dev mid-run, shoving a water bottle into his hands. "Drink, or you’ll be hobbling by noon," she said, her tone half-mom, half-coach.
To Pogba, still heaving from sprints, she added, "Ice those legs tonight, Paul. We’re not chancing a tweak this close to the season."
Between drills, the squad lay scattered on the grass, catching their breath. Thiago, always the joker, copied Kieron’s fall from Freeman’s nutmeg, earning a playful shove from Kieron. "Keep laughing, mate, I’ll get him back," Kieron warned with a sly grin.
Pogba wiped sweat from his forehead and chuckled deeply. "You two are trouble," he said.
Niels watched it all the jokes, the energy feeling a growing hope. The squad was becoming a real team, but with tough matches against Charlton, Sheffield United, and Preston coming up, they needed to find their best form quickly.
As the session wrapped up, Niels gathered the squad in the center of the pitch. Their faces were flushed, kits stained with mud and sweat.
Standing tall under the high sun, he watched their long shadows stretch across the turf.
"Look at this," he said, voice calm but fierce, cutting through their heavy breaths. "You’re more than players, you’re a team, a family. League One will try to break you with tough games ahead. But you have something they don’t: hunger. You’re not here to just survive. You’re here to fight, to fight for every point, to make this town proud. Trust one another, push each other, and we’ll come out strong."
The squad soaked it in, some nodding, others clenching fists. Max clapped Pogba on the back, Thiago gave Kieron a mock salute, and Freeman’s rare smile flashed, quick but real.
The air crackled with a shared resolve, rough around the edges but fierce.
Thomas spoke up, his tone sharp. "Double sessions tomorrow. No slacking. We’re building machines, not daydreamers." The squad groaned, but their eyes glowed with determination, the challenge had sparked their fire.
As the session ended, players shuffled off the pitch, legs heavy and shirts drenched, but their voices were loud and spirits high.
Max and Thiago joked about who missed more shots, while Kieron promised to "school Freeman" in the next drill. Even Pogba, usually quiet, teased Dev about his "fancy dancing" on the wing.
Niels stayed behind, watching the players head to the locker room as their laughter echoed across the pitch.
He pictured them in action: Pogba’s commanding passes controlling the game, Freeman’s sharp flicks breaking through defenses, Max and Thiago storming down the wings, and Kieron poised to seize every opportunity.
He walked toward the training office as the stadium fell into a quiet dusk, floodlights buzzing on.
A worn team scarf hung on the wall, its colors bright despite years of use, a symbol of Crawley’s stubborn spirit.
Niels sank into his chair as rain began to tap steadily against the window, its rhythm matching the town’s heartbeat.
He opened his laptop and focused on videos of Sheffield United’s defense, analyzing their weaknesses for the season opener.
His mind raced with the pressure ahead. The schedule was tough, early away games and a relentless mid-season stretch with no room for mistakes.
Pogba and Freeman were still settling in, but the team had to come together as one strong, unbreakable unit and fast.
He pictured the team in motion: Adam Fletcher’s calm saves in goal, a steady anchor; Liam McCulloch’s fierce shouts at the back, a wall of grit; Reece Darby powering down the right, a relentless engine.
Thiago and Dev carved through wings, their flair a nightmare for defenders. Nate Sutton slipped through gaps with deadly passes, while Kieron Marsh burned with raw hunger, a wildcard ready to erupt.
Max was the team’s heartbeat, his deadly shots and smart runs inspiring everyone. If Pogba and Freeman could find their rhythm, they’d build a midfield that didn’t just compete but controlled the game.
The season’s roadmap was set, the squad was taking shape, but their chemistry was still forming, the first match looming like a thunderhead.
Niels picked up his clipboard and quickly scribbled a few notes: ’Progress strong. Team chemistry building. Light the spark. Own the season.’
The words felt like a promise, steady in his hand despite the weight of expectation.
He moved to the window, breath misting the glass as he looked out over the glistening pitch beneath the bright floodlights.
The rain intensified, falling in a steady pulse that matched Crawley’s drive to push onward.
Though tired, the players left the field fired up and ready for what lay ahead.
[Note: I know it’s been a bit slow lately, but the new season is just around the corner. Thankyou so much for sticking around!]
