Connor had been feeling down lately because his team's performance was a bit underwhelming.
The new season had been underway for over a month. Brentford FC had played 5 games but only managed to win 1 so far. Although the third-division games aren't as high-profile as the Premier League, performance is everything in competitive sports. Even in the lower leagues, the team must strive for better results.
If the results aren't good, the team owner might consider making significant changes or even pulling the plug on the current management. After all, only teams with better results and more potential attract attention from top-flight teams or investors. Why had Brentford FC, remained in the lower leagues while other clubs climbed the ranks?
The level of play was too low for the big teams to take notice. If the club couldn't attract attention, it would be difficult to survive financially. And if the team disbanded, the players and staff would be left in the lurch.
As Conor, the coach, was mulling over these worries, he saw Lucas Silva, who had been sidelined with an injury a couple of days ago, step onto the training ground. Conor immediately approached him. He wasn't particularly concerned about Lucas but didn't want any further disruptions to the team's training sessions.
"Lucas, you can take a few more days off to rest," Conor said, his bald head gleaming in the afternoon sun as he checked on Lucas.
"I'm fine, coach. The doctor said there's nothing serious," Lucas waved his hand dismissively. He knew that he couldn't afford to waste any more opportunities. To make an impression, he needed to perform well in training. Otherwise, where would he get the chance to play in the higher leagues? If he didn't play well, would Lucas have to give up on his dream and go back to his old life, far from the football world?
Lucas would never accept going home to rest. He wanted to train intensely every day to improve as quickly as possible.
"Your fall the other day was pretty scary. You actually fainted on the pitch. Well, you won't participate in the full-contact drills today. Just work on your shooting and passing," Conor instructed, still concerned. Lucas had a history of being physically vulnerable.
Several times, Conor had worried that Lucas might get seriously injured by the rough play of the more aggressive players. And now, Lucas had just come out of the hospital.
"I'll be fine, coach. If I can't handle it, I'll let you know."
"That's the spirit, Lucas! My brother is in great shape; you'll be impressed!" said Reggie, who had seen how well Lucas had performed in practice the day before.
"Hah, don't worry. You'll be done in less than three minutes," joked Joel.
"Alright, Joel, go easy during today's session. This is a football pitch, not a boxing ring!" Conor retorted. Although he was tough, he was fair.
Conor didn't care about a player's reputation or background, only whether they could help the team win.
The UK, like most of the countries in the world where there's a minority and a majority, might have its share of bias, but not everyone is like that.
"Anyway," Conor patted Lucas on the shoulder after Joel's remark, "be careful out there today."
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The daily training sessions for a third-division team like Brentford FC weren't long and were far less structured and intense compared to top-tier clubs. Most of the players in the lower leagues had to work side jobs because football alone didn't pay enough to support them.
Only those who had their eyes set on the Premier League or other top divisions would find extra time to practice on their own.
In these lower leagues, coaches typically didn't implement overly complicated tactics. Players mainly focused on individual performance, as showcasing their talent was the key to getting noticed by scouts from higher leagues. Therefore, players didn't need to memorize complex plays—knowing the basics was enough.
During warm-ups, Lucas focused on adjusting to his new form and his improved abilities, practicing his runs and ball control.
When it came time for shooting drills, Lucas avoided trying any long-range efforts. Most of his teammates didn't think much of it since Lucas had never been known for his shooting. But Reggie, who had seen Lucas's newfound prowess, was curious.
"Why didn't you go for a long shot, man?" Reggie asked as he approached Lucas.
Lucas smiled mysteriously, "Not the right time yet, mate."
After the warm-up and individual drills, Conor blew the whistle, signaling everyone to gather around him.
The players quickly perked up, knowing that it was time for the scrimmage.
Joel grinned, enjoying the prospect of dominating Lucas on the pitch. Having struggled in the academy especially after being promoted to Everton before being loaned and sold, now, he found satisfaction in showing his strength in these training matches.
But today, Lucas didn't shy away. He locked eyes with Joel and smiled confidently, a change from his previous hesitance. In the past, Lucas had avoided direct confrontation with Joel, intimidated by the latter's aggressive style.
But today, Lucas not only dared to meet his gaze but also laughed at him mockingly.
"You'll be sorry you laughed, you idiot," Joel muttered, clenching his fists, ready to knock Lucas down again.
"Alright, the first round of scrimmage today—keep it light. We've got a match tomorrow. Same teams as usual. Get out there and show me something that'll make me want to put you in the starting eleven," Conor instructed, clapping his hands.
The players broke off into their groups. Conor liked to mix starters with substitutes during training because, in this division, starting positions were always in flux.
You might be a starter today, but if the team signed a new player or if someone from a higher league came down on loan, you'd be on the bench, regardless of your previous performance. Conversely, if you performed well, you could quickly move from the bench to the starting lineup.
In the lower leagues, there were no guaranteed starters or subs. Everything was based on performance, making the competition here sometimes even more cutthroat than in the top leagues.
Lucas paired up with Reggie, playing as a forward and a winger, respectively. His rival, Joel, was on the opposing team, forward.
During his academy years, Joel had been a dominant forward, known for his physicality, he is currently 1,89 cm, but he was considered too clumsy due to his height to be a forward in the Premier League, and his lack of pace made it difficult for him to transition to playing as a inside forward. His uncertain positioning was one reason why Joel struggled to make it in the higher leagues.
Because it was a training match, there was no kickoff from the center. Lucas, as a center, started with a throw-in.
After their midfield advanced the ball, Reggie quickly sought out Lucas.
Reggie had averaged 9.8 goals per season for Brentford in the lower leagues, not a standout number, but he had the best accuracy in the team with 3 goals per 9 shots, the highest conversion rate on shots.
Meanwhile, Lucas moved into position for a long-range shot. The reason he hadn't taken any shots during warm-ups was to save his energy for this moment.
"Silly big man, I'm going to score from there," Lucas said to Brockman as they faced off, pointing to a spot just outside the penalty area.
"Hah! Who do you think you are, Ronaldo? Go ahead, I won't even bother marking you," Joel sneered, laughing at Lucas's previous struggles.
Seeing Joel's overconfidence, Lucas quickly pushed past him and ran into the space just outside the penalty box.
Joel didn't chase him, already anticipating a miss.
Reggie saw the opportunity and passed the ball to Lucas, knowing something special was about to happen.
"Surprise them, Lucas!" Reggie muttered as Lucas received the pass.
Lucas took the ball, turned toward the goal, took a touch, and shot.
The movement was fluid and precise, catching Conor's attention.
It was a simple shot, but it showed Lucas's solid fundamentals. He didn't look like a struggling player but more like a seasoned professional.
And the most surprising thing—Lucas was shooting from the range! He'd never shown this kind of confidence before.
"Lucas, you..." Conor began to shout, but his voice was drowned out by the sound of the ball hitting the back of the net.
"...Good shot! Keep it up!" Conor quickly changed his tone, praising the goal.
Lucas had just scored a stunning long-range goal!
After the goal, Lucas pointed to the spot where he had just scored from, then turned to Joel, who stood there in disbelief.
"I told you I'd score from there."
After a bit of trash talk, Lucas jogged back, exchanging a light high-five with Reggie.
For the first time, Lucas realized how satisfying it was to prove his worth on the pitch.