The morning sunlight filtered through Alex's curtains, casting a soft golden glow across his room. The rhythmic chirping of birds woke him slowly, his eyes blinking open as he turned to check his alarm clock. It was early, but Alex liked it that way—there was something about having the world to himself for a while before everyone else woke up.
He rolled out of bed and stretched, feeling the slight tightness in his muscles from yesterday's game. Pulling on some joggers and a hoodie, he quietly crept downstairs, careful not to wake his sister. Max, their German Shepherd, was already at the door, his tail wagging expectantly. Alex smiled, grabbing Max's leash and clipping it on.
"Alright, Max, let's go," he whispered.
They stepped outside into the crisp morning air, the coolness invigorating Alex as he began their usual route. They jogged at a steady pace, Max keeping perfect stride beside him. The neighborhood was still, the only sounds the crunch of gravel beneath their feet and the occasional bark of a distant dog. This was Alex's time to reflect and clear his mind before the rest of the day took hold.
After about twenty minutes, they returned home, Max panting happily. Alex unclipped his leash and gave him a gentle pat on the head. "Good job, buddy." He filled Max's bowl with kibble, then headed upstairs to take a shower, the warm water helping to loosen any lingering stiffness in his legs.
After drying off, Alex dressed in a comfortable t-shirt and athletic shorts. He made his way to the kitchen, gathering ingredients for a nutritious breakfast—scrambled eggs with spinach, a side of avocado, and a protein shake. He believed in feeding his body well, it was, after all, his greatest asset and the first meal of the Day. As he ate, Max finished his own breakfast, then lay at Alex's feet, content.
Breakfast done, Alex returned to his room, settling at his desk for a while. He opened his textbooks and notebooks, skimming through the assignments for the week. He wasn't the best student, but he knew keeping up with schoolwork was important. He focused for about an hour, reading and jotting down notes before finally closing the books.
He stood, stretching his arms above his head, and moved to the small potted plants on his windowsill—a few succulents and a leafy pothos. He watered them carefully before stepping out onto the balcony. The balcony had a few more plants, herbs mostly, and he took a moment to water those too. He loved this part of his routine; there was something peaceful about caring for living things and watching them grow.
With his chores done, it was time for a little light cardio. He started with jumping jacks, then moved into some high knees, finishing with a set of burpees. It wasn't anything too strenuous—just enough to get his blood pumping before training later in the day.
After a quick break, Alex packed his duffle bag with his training gear and made his way to the FC Goldtal training ground. As he arrived, he could already see a few of his teammates kicking a ball around. Lars and another teammate, Julian, waved him over.
"Hey, Alex!" Lars called out. "You're early again. Want to do some warm-ups with us?"
"Of course," Alex replied, jogging over. They began passing the ball between them, practicing quick one-touch passes, moving fluidly, and dribbling around cones they'd set up. Alex could feel the difference in himself—the confidence that had started to grow since their last match. He moved with purpose, his touches precise, his decisions instant.
Soon, more of the team arrived, and their coach, Herr (Herr=German for Mister) Fischer, walked out onto the field. He was an older man, his hair graying at the temples, but his presence commanded respect. He blew the whistle, gathering them around.
"Alright, listen up, boys," Coach Fischer began, his voice carrying across the field. "We've moved up a league, and this means every opponent we face will be tougher. No more easy games. We have to push harder, train smarter, and stay focused. Today's training will be high-intensity. I want to see you pressing hard, keeping possession, and attacking without hesitation."
He paused, his eyes moving from one player to the next, making sure they were all paying attention. "Our next opponent, FC Eisenstadt, is known for their physicality. They're not afraid to play rough, and they'll try to push us off the ball. We need to be quick, both in movement and in passing. Don't let them dictate the game—we will dictate it. Understood?"
"Yes, Coach!" the team responded in unison, the determination palpable in the air.
"We'll start with high-intensity interval training. Then, we'll work on positional drills. And Alex," the coach said, looking directly at him, "you've been showing great individual skill lately. Keep that up, but remember—if the situation calls for it, don't hesitate to involve your teammates. We win as a team."
Alex nodded, a flicker of something crossing his face. He knew what the coach meant. His newfound style had turned more individualistic, and while it brought results, he'd have to balance it when necessary.
They moved into the training drills, the intensity immediately ramping up. Sprinting, pressing, tackling—everything was done at maximum effort. They practiced transitions from defense to attack, and then switched roles, learning to cope under pressure. Alex excelled in each drill, his mind sharp, his body responsive. He was determined to be more than adequate in every aspect.
The days that followed were grueling. Training was ramped up to twice a week, with an additional session dedicated solely to tactics. FC Goldtal had entered a new stage, and they had to be ready for anything. Alex made it his mission to train in all positions, throwing himself into defensive drills just as much as offensive ones. He learned the intricacies of being a fullback, the timing required of a center-back, and even practiced in goal a few times—though he wasn't particularly good at it.
On the field, his ego-driven playstyle began to shine. It wasn't about selfishness; it was about trusting himself to make the difference. He became the kind of player who could change the course of a game on his own. But it wasn't just about scoring—he pushed to be well-rounded. His defense improved, his vision broadened, and his stamina grew. He felt ready for whatever the Bayernliga would throw at them.
The day of the first match finally arrived, and FC Goldtal stood across from FC Eisenstadt. The air was charged with anticipation. The opposing team was imposing, their players tall and muscular, their demeanor confident. They looked like they meant business.
Coach Fischer gathered the team in a huddle before the kickoff. "Alright, boys, remember what we've worked on. Stay composed, stay focused, and most importantly—believe in yourselves. They'll come at us hard, but we're ready. Trust each other out there. Let's show them what FC Goldtal is made of."
Alex looked around at his teammates—Lars, Julian, Markus, and the rest. He saw the determination in their eyes, the same fire he felt in himself. They had worked for this, and now it was time to prove it.
The referee's whistle blew, and the match began. Alex took his position, his eyes scanning the field, his body thrumming with energy. He could feel it—the potential, the excitement, the challenge. FC Eisenstadt pressed hard from the start, just as they expected, but FC Goldtal held firm. Alex moved into position, ready for anything.
This was it. The beginning of their new chapter in the Bayernliga. And Alex knew, without a doubt, they were ready.