The day after their humble defeat to the mighty Liverpool, the players were back at the familiar surroundings of the club's facilities. The players and staff were back at West Ham's training facility, located just outside the depressing city of London. Nestled amidst the satire green fields, the facility boaste lacklustre pitches and training amenities that provided the environment for the players to hone their skills.
As the training session commenced, the shouts and agony from dispirited players filled the air. The distant cheers from the supporters' section, where a small group of passionate West Ham fans had gathered, provided a source of positivity, yet even the passionate fans couldn't uplift the players' moods.
As Kai stood on the sidelines observing the training session, he wore a pair of sunglasses that concealed his eyes from the bright morning sun. The dark lenses shielded his gaze, giving off an aura of cool confidence. It gave the player a sense of fear and curiosity.
Is the manager staring at us? Is the manager looking at me? Am I doing enough to impress the Boss? These were the questions that constantly popped up in the West Ham players' head.
However, little did anyone know that behind those shades, Kai was struggling to stay awake.
The previous night, Kai had spent hours meticulously analyzing the match against Liverpool, dissecting every play, every decision made on the field. Determined to learn from the team's performance, he had burned the midnight oil, pouring over footage and statistics, seeking patterns and weaknesses that could be exploited.
And most importantly, there was a sense of frustration. A sense of derangement of his defeat against Jurgen. It's not that he hated Liverpool, he didn't hate Jurgen. He just hated the fairness of its all. What's fair in fighting against a team destined for the stars against a pitiful team struggling to even survive.
He hated the sense of hopelessness that dreaded him as he watched those goals getting past Fabianski. The inevitability of their defeat almost seemed like fate. Yet despite his desperate attempt to get something... anything from the match, he was rewarded with nothing.
Trent Alexander Arnold and Andrew Robertson were their only source of creativity. West Ham shut them down. Kai Chiu shut Liverpool's creative engine down. Firmino was kept in chains throughout the game. He had shackles placed upon him... and he barely had a touch of the ball.
Yet, just when that little gap opened up... just when Kai was preparing the substitution to stop the temporary weakness, they punished him so cruelly. He hated the fairness of it all, just a little mistake and Liverpool pushed him straight to hell.
The lack of sleep was beginning to take its toll on Kai. His eyelids felt heavy, and his mind struggled to focus. He hoped that the sunglasses would not only shield his eyes from the sun but also serve as a shield to hide his fatigue. He didn't want the players or coaching staff to perceive any sign of weakness or exhaustion.
Behind the dark lenses, Kai's eyes flickered, occasionally closing for a brief moment, only to snap open again as he fought to maintain his composure. He knew the importance of establishing his authority as the temporary manager, and he couldn't afford to show any signs of weariness.
With each passing minute of the training session, Kai's struggle to stay alert intensified. The sunglasses became his ally, providing a shield behind which he could momentarily rest his eyes without anyone noticing. He leaned slightly against a nearby wall, using it as support to keep himself upright, all the while maintaining a stern expression on his face.
While the sunglasses hid his drowsiness from others, Kai was keenly aware of his own fatigue. He knew he had to find a way to recharge and regain his focus before the next important match, especially given their match against Manchester City . But for now, he would soldier on, relying on his determination and the cover of the sunglasses to maintain his authority and conceal the toll that sleep deprivation was taking on him.
In this dazed state, David Gold, the club owner, approached Kai with an amiable smile. Kai Chiu straightened up, trying to shake off the weariness that threatened to overwhelm him. He mustered a polite nod, his eyes flickering with a mix of fatigue and determination.
"Kai, my boy," Gold said with an indifferent smile, evidently still distraught by their recent poor form "How's the training session going today? You seem tired. Is everything alright?"
Kai quietly let out a yawn, his eyes and stifled and he rubbed his nose before responding, "Yes, Mr. Gold, training is going well. We're focusing on improving our defensive shape and set-piece routines. The players are putting in the effort, and the coaching staff is doing a fantastic job."
But the owner couldn't help but notice Kai's struggle to stay awake. "Kai, you look exhausted. Are you getting enough rest? It's important to take care of yourself, especially during such a crucial period for the club."
Kai nodded appreciatively, fighting off another yawn. "Thank you, Mr. Gold. I've been analyzing our previous match and studying our upcoming opponents. I'll make sure to take care of myself."
Gold patted Kai on the back. "You're doing too much by yourself. What will we do if our temporary manager was sleeping during match?" The owner stated half-jokingly as he glanced at the players. "If you need any assistance or if there's anything I can do to help, don't hesitate to let me know."
Kai mustered a tired smile. "Thank you, Mr. Gold. I appreciate your concern and support. I'll do my best to lead the team and achieve positive results."
The old gentleman nodded, understanding the pressure and responsibility Kai carried as the temporary manager. "Take care of yourself."
But as Mr. David Gold turned to leave, Kai mustered up the last ounce of energy he had and spoke up, catching the club owner's attention.
"Mr. Gold," Kai called out, his voice slightly strained. "I have a small request, if it's possible."
Curious, Mr. Gold turned back towards Kai. "Of course, Kai. What is it?"
Kai hesitated for a moment before continuing, "I want a bed."
Mr. Gold had his eyebrow raised as he contemplated Kai's request, spotting the humour of providing such a request environment for their temporary manager. "I see your point, Kai. Having a private bedroom could would certainly help..." Mr Gold chuckled as he shook his head in disbelief.
Kai nodded appreciatively, his eyes showing a glimmer of hope. "Thank you, Mr. Gold. You wouldn't understand how much it means to me."
"I'll see what I can do." Mr. Gold replied, placing a reassuring hand on the manager's shoulder. "We'll get a room and renovate it to be your own private bedroom, Mr Chiu."
~~~
The office stood tall and imposing, overlooking the vast expanse of the West Ham training ground. The room exuded an air of authority and ambition, reflecting the role of the club owner in shaping the destiny of the team. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the meticulously maintained pitches, where players could be seen honing their skills under the watchful eye of their coaches.
The office itself was grand and tastefully decorated, exuding a sense of prestige and sophistication. Deep mahogany furniture adorned the space, complemented by plush leather chairs that provided comfort and elegance. The walls were adorned with memorabilia, capturing the rich history of the club and reminding visitors of the legacy they were a part of.
A large oak desk dominated the center of the room, neatly organized with documents and folders, a testament to David Gold's meticulous attention to detail. On the desk, a nameplate proudly displayed his title as the owner of West Ham United Football Club. Behind the desk, a high-backed leather chair commanded authority, serving as a symbol of power and decision-making.
As David sat behind his desk, taking in the view before him, he couldn't help but feel a surge of pride and responsibility. The office represented more than just a physical space; it symbolized the unwavering commitment and determination to steer West Ham to glory, shaping the club's destiny and leaving an indelible mark on its storied history.
As David Gold settled into his office chair, his mind wandered back to his conversation with Kai. He couldn't help but feel a sense of astonishment at the young manager's dedication and commitment. Kai's request for a private bedroom had initially caught him off guard, but upon reflection, it began to make sense.
"Perhaps I've stumbled upon the perfect manager for West Ham," David thought to himself, a flicker of excitement igniting within him. He had seen his fair share of managers come and go, but there was something about Kai's unwavering determination that struck a chord with him.
David recalled Kai's tireless efforts in analyzing the previous match against their opponent, staying up all night to scrutinize every detail. It was clear that Kai's passion for the game and his role as temporary manager ran deep. The request for a private bedroom was not a sign of arrogance or entitlement but rather a testament to his commitment to the team's success.
"I've been searching for a manager who truly understands the essence of West Ham, someone who is willing to go the extra mile," David mused, a smile forming on his lips. "Perhaps I've found that person."
Gold had been so used to making decisions based on business acumen and financial calculations, but Kai's request reminded him that success in football was not just about numbers and tactics. It was about the spirit, the passion, and the dedication of those involved.
"Mr Gold, you called for me?"
"Yes. Arrange for a private bedroom to be set up for Mr Chiu."
The assistant had a questionable look as she listened to the order. "Of course, Mr. Gold. Is there a particular reason for this request?"
The owner swivelled on the chair as he faced the floor-to-ceiling glass wall. From his vantage point, he stared down at the training pitch, observing one individual that was wearing sunglasses.
"It's about trust and belief."