16th August
"The first team had it rough, no?" Terry Quinn said to his two friends Blaise and Cam while stretching his legs.
"Yeah." Cam had a unique level of focus when warming up so he didn't give much of a reply.
"Two midfielders down in one game… If that isn't rough, I don't know what is." Blaise had an anxious look in his eyes when he said that. "Well, now... that win against Sunderland doesn't seem to be worth it."
"Yeah…" The two nodded.
After beating Plymouth in a comfortable fashion in the League Cup 3-0, Sheffield came into their home opener with a lot of momentum on their bellies. Their opponent was Sunderland, a Premier League club just two years ago that suffered two successive relegations.
This is another team with a humongous fanbase, as they've always been one of the biggest clubs in the Northeast of England. Blaise remembered that they got back to the Premier League in his late 20's…
Anyway, the boys from the Northeast were no match for Sheffield at their home pitch, even if their squad was considered by many to be too good for this league. The quick and easy 3-0 result is a testament to how much of a home buff Sheffield got against Sunderland.
The caveat is of course, the two huge injuries their midfield have suffered.
The first one was because of a scramble on a corner kick, where their attacking midfielder landed awkwardly after jumping for the cross early in the game.
The second one though… was what left Blaise and the rest of Sheffield a bad taste in the mouth even with the W. A horrific tackle at the dying embers of the game took out their star midfielder, leaving him in excruciating pain in the middle of the pitch. A red card pulled out by the referee wasn't enough in this situation, as it's already a done game anyway.
What made it even more miserable for Sheffield was when the MRI scans came back the next day, it was announced that their star center midfielder Tyrone Corbett suffered a torn Achilles tendon, and their starting attacking midfielder also tore his quadriceps tendon.
It was an unprecedented calamity for Sheffield this early in the season. Steve Bronson can't help but sigh in visible frustration at the fact two of his best players are out for at the very least half a year.
Sure, they had cover. Bronson's friend, and ex Sheffield captain Damian Potts is still around, and there's also some back ups for the attacking midfield spot. But they'd have to dig deeper into their youth teams for more flexibility in the midfield spots.
And he had to admit, minus Potts, every single one of the replacements available wasn't up to par to who they were replacing.
Blaise thought of it as both an opportunity and a curse. An opportunity to get noticed and secure some first team appearances with the team thin in his position. A curse because it had to happen under circumstances like these other than how he envisioned it to go. He wanted to win the first team spot fair and square, without any injury to his team.
He scratched his fresh buzz cut as a sign of both dilemma and uncertainty about the situation.
"Guess we just have to start the Under 18 Professional Development League right." Blaise got up and took a ball near him.
"Tomorrow, our season will start… I'm so happy…" Quinn jumped up and down like a lunatic. "I'll be a hero!"
The youth football season starts on the 17th of August all across England. The English Football Association made 3 divisions for the under 18 players of clubs. They are the Under 18 Premier League, the Under 18 Professional Development League, and the Under 18 Youth League.
These leagues allow the team's academy students up to the players that turned 18 at the start of the year to play. Sheffield plays for the U18 PDL, where 20 youth teams split into 2 groups vie for 2 knockout playoff spots each. There is no promotion nor relegation in these leagues though, as the team's that play in each division are categorized by the English FA.
Blaise had already played in the Under 18 Premier League for two whole years, reminding him that he was once a graduate of a famed academy. Other than being known as a masterful free kick, penalty kick, or corner kick specialist, scouts watching Manchester's youth games only remember him as the one called 'pretty boy' due to his eye catching features.
Yeah. Blaise was always humble about that, and yet, those bastard scouts kept on calling him that even in his 30's.
***
Their balding youth manager Ryan Cassidy was very serious about winning their very first game. So serious he doesn't even want his team to think about the senior team's current predicament and next match. He demanded absolute focus on the task at hand.
Blaise recalled how Terry grumbled about how he's supposed to focus during the tactical meeting when he kept on seeing the youth manager's bald spots. Cam just reminded him that they are facing their crosstown rivals, and said that that alone was enough motivation to maintain focus.
Yes, Blaise was thrilled when he saw Sheffield Sunday at the top of their fixture list. He knows he can make the biggest impact and impression in a derby fixture, knowing that the team puts even more importance on a game like this. He was stunned though, at the fact that Cam seemed to have become even more serious since the fixtures were announced.
He's a Sheffield Sunday academy graduate! Why does he seem very eager to beat them black and blue?
He's not one to take his intentions lightly though, since every time he fought SC Manchester in his previous life, he always played to the best of his ability.
"Let's destroy Sunday." Cam's tone was low and stern, and yet Blaise and Terry can't deny the serial killer-like intensity of his words, which was made even crazier by him cracking his huge fingers.
"Tomorrow's our first game of the season, I hope you've steeled your resolve for this, young Blades." Manager Cassidy urged. "Those young bastards on the other side need a thorough beating. Who'll give it to him?"
He slammed the table in rising tension, waiting for the young lads' answers.
"Sheffield Blades!"
"Huh? Why do I feel like you aren't ready yet? Who'll give them a beating?"
"Sheffield Blades!" An ear piercing roar sounded out from the middle of the under 18s pitch.
"I expect nothing less than the executioner's blade, lads!"
"Yes, sir!"