The sun was beginning to set over Pride Park Stadium, casting a golden hue across the pitch. David Jones, Derby County's promising young right-winger, was the lone figure on the field. His sweat-drenched shirt clung to his back as he jogged to retrieve the ball yet again, his breath visible in the crisp February air.
Placing the ball carefully, David backed up a few steps. His mind replayed yesterday's game—the missed opportunity that had haunted him. That moment when he could've turned the tide for his team, only for his shot to sail over the bar. It wasn't just the disappointment on his teammates' faces that stung; it was the look in the crowd, the collective gasp of dismay. He felt he had let everyone down.
"Focus," he muttered to himself, shaking off the thoughts. He steadied his breathing, adjusted his stance, and visualized the perfect strike. With a burst of energy, his foot connected with the ball. It soared through the air, curving gracefully before slamming into the top corner of the net.
A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. But he wasn't satisfied. Not yet.
He lined up another shot, lost in his rhythm, when a familiar voice called out, breaking his focus.
"Still out here, eh?"
David turned to see Wayne Rooney, the player-coach and legend, leaning casually against the sideline barrier. Dressed in a tracksuit, Rooney's presence exuded a calm authority, his piercing eyes taking in the young player's relentless practice.
"Gaffer," David greeted, a mix of surprise and respect in his tone. "What brings you out here?"
Rooney smirked and strolled onto the pitch, hands in his pockets. "Could ask you the same thing. Thought you'd be resting after yesterday's match."
David shrugged, toeing the grass. "Couldn't let it go. That miss… I can't stop thinking about it."
Rooney nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Yeah, it was a tough one. But football's like that. You'll win some, you'll lose some."
David's lips twitched in a faint smile. "That's what everyone says."
"Because it's true," Rooney said, stepping closer. "But it's also true that what you're doing right now—putting in the work—that's what separates good players from great ones."
David looked up at him, the weight of Rooney's words sinking in. This was the man who'd taken a chance on him, bringing him to Derby County, believing in his potential when others might not have.
Rooney gestured toward the ball. "Show me what you've got, Jonesy."
David's face lit up at the challenge. "You're on, Gaffer."
He placed the ball down, his movements precise, and took a few steps back. With Rooney watching intently, David focused, striking the ball cleanly. It soared toward the goal, hitting the top corner once more. Rooney let out an approving whistle.
"Not bad, kid. Not bad at all," Rooney said, walking over to the ball. "But let's see if you can handle this."
David's eyes widened as Rooney placed the ball and took a few steps back. Despite his years, the former England captain's movements were fluid, his technique flawless. Rooney struck the ball with practiced ease, sending it curling into the net with pinpoint accuracy.
"Still got it," Rooney said with a grin.
David laughed, shaking his head. "Show-off."
Rooney chuckled, motioning for David to retrieve the ball. "Alright, let's see if you can do it under pressure."
The two began an impromptu training session, Rooney acting as the defender, challenging David to find ways past him. The older player's experience was evident in the way he read David's movements, forcing the teenager to think faster, react quicker. Each time David managed to outmaneuver him, a triumphant grin spread across his face.
After an intense bout, both of them collapsed onto the grass, panting and laughing.
"Not bad, Jonesy," Rooney said between breaths. "Not bad at all."
David propped himself up on his elbows, looking over at Rooney. "Thanks, Gaffer. For everything. You didn't have to bring me here, but you did. I… I don't want to let you down."
Rooney's expression softened. He sat up, resting his arms on his knees. "Listen, David. When I saw you play, I saw more than just skill. I saw hunger, passion. You've got something special, but it's not just about talent. It's about what you do with it. And from what I've seen, you're putting in the work. That's all I can ask for."
David's chest tightened at the words. "Still, I… I feel like I have so much to prove. To you, to the team, to my family, to myself."
Rooney reached out, clapping a hand on David's shoulder. "You don't have to prove anything to anyone but yourself. Trust me, I've been where you are. The weight of expectations can crush you if you let it. But here's the thing: football's a team sport. You're not in this alone. We've got your back."
David nodded, his throat tightening with emotion. "Thanks, Gaffer. That means a lot."
Rooney grinned, rising to his feet and extending a hand to David. "Come on, let's finish strong."
David took his hand, pulling himself up. They spent the next hour drilling shots, passing, and even a bit of playful one-on-one. The camaraderie between them was palpable, a bond forged not just in football but in shared understanding.
As the final rays of sunlight disappeared, Rooney clapped David on the back. "Alright, that's enough for today. Go home, rest up. And remember, tomorrow's a new day."
David nodded, a genuine smile lighting up his face. "Got it, Gaffer."
As Rooney walked away, David stayed behind for a moment, looking out at the empty field. The echo of their laughter and the sound of the ball hitting the net lingered in the air. He felt lighter, his worries replaced by a renewed sense of purpose.
Picking up the ball, he whispered to himself, "Tomorrow's a new day."
And with that, he headed off the pitch, ready to face whatever came next.