Team A vs Team B (2)

Edward stood on the sideline, arms across his chest, eyes critical as the whistle went off and the game was underway. There was a flicker of pride as he watched them spring to life, each trying to show him something that he hadn't seen on paper. The intensity from get-go was palpable-players battling for every inch, crisp passes, calling out to each other, marking opponents with laser focus.

Dylan took position in midfield, his eyes scanning the field with a calm intensity that contradicted his age. From the very first touch of the ball, Edward could see the difference in his movement-smooth, calculated, like a general on the field. Dylan didn't just pass; he directed, orchestrating plays that seemed to unfold effortlessly. Within the first few minutes, he flicked a sharp pass over to Anthony, who was stationed on the wing as Edward had suggested.

Anthony sprinted down the right side of the field, his speed almost a shockwave as he easily outran his marker. The defenders struggled to keep up, but Anthony was too quick. Edward guessed that Anthony was still getting accustomed to the winger role - his touches cautious, almost too controlled, as though he were afraid to make a mistake. But as he entered the penalty area, he launched a powerful cross that flew across the goal in very dangerous fashion.

Then, one of their forwards sprang into the air and connected with his head to the ball with a resounding smack. The shot just went wide, barely grazing the post, but Edward couldn't stop grinning. Something worthy was indeed brewing in the making. And it felt like the players did, too, because their confidence built upon every successful pass and near-miss.

"Keep it up!" Edward yelled from the sideline, clapping his hands. "Play smart, find the gaps!

As the game wore on, Team A started to get into a rhythm of press hard and dominating possession. Edward started to notice that opponents began to adjust by sending two defenders on Dylan, trying to nullify his control of the game. However, Dylan was undisturbed, changing positions and dropping deep when necessary, almost teasing them.

Standing on the sideline, Alex shouted over to Edward, "Got a good one in Dylan, haven't you?" he smirked, his tone admiring and teasing all at once.

Edward nodded, unable to hide his pride. "Kid's special, I'll give him that. But it's not over yet.

Within the next few minutes, a golden opportunity opened up. Dylan received the ball at midfield and, in split seconds, assessed his options-twice his eyes fell on Anthony, who for the second time in succession had outpaced his marker. In an instant, Dylan lofted the ball into space. Anthony didn't need another invite; he exploded forward, catching the ball at the stride, and took it past the last defender. Now, only the keeper stood in his way.

"Come on, Anthony…" Edward said in a strained whisper to himself, every muscle tense as he simply watched the scene in slow motion take place.

Anthony's foot finally connected to the ball with perfect timing, sending it rocketing towards the top corner. The keeper dove with his fingertips grazing the ball, but it was of no use. The net bulged as the ball hit home. Goal.

With the first goal of the match, players erupted in a celebratory gesture. Edward couldn't help but let his grin run wide as Anthony turned, a wide, triumphant smile on his face. He jogged back toward the team, and for just that brief moment, his gaze met Edward's-a silent exchange of gratitude and newfound trust.

The minutes ticked by, and Edward continued making his notes, adjusting each one with each minute passing by. His training had finally paid dividends, and the flat 4-3-3 setup gave his players the flexibility of supporting each other while allowing the forwards to stretch the defence. However, he observed that some of the players were struggling with positioning or fell victim to leaving gaps on the flanks when they pushed forward. Something he'd have to deal with in training, but all in all, he was happy with how they adjusted.

The game wore on, and Team A was in control, scoring twice more before the final whistle. Dylan was instrumental in both goals, showing his vision and spatial awareness to set up plays with precision. Finally, when the whistle blew, Edward did feel a deep sense of accomplishment-not only because his team had won but because he'd seen flashes of the potential they held.

He gathered the players up, his face stern but with a tinge of pride. "That was a strong performance. You played hard, and you played smart. This isn't the end of your trials, but you've shown me something today-something I can work with.".

A murmur of assent stirred amongst the players, and Edward could see a spark of pride in their eyes. For the first time, they saw what he did-the prospect of building something great.

As the players began to exit the pitch, Dylan came to Edward, his face red with exertion but his eyes shining. "That went well, Coach. Looks like you've got your starting eleven."

"Starting eleven?" Edward raised an eyebrow, smirking. "We're not done yet, Dylan. This is just day one. There's still a long way to go."

Dylan nodded, a grin tugging at his lips. "Got it. But I'm ready for whatever you throw my way.

Edward watched him walk away to join the others, then turned and headed toward the locker room. The sound of footsteps behind him made him pause. It was Anthony, who'd held back, his eyes regarding Edward with curiosity and appreciation.

"Coach," Anthony began, scratching the back of his head, "about what you said earlier… you really think I can be a winger?

Edward nodded without hesitation. "You're quick, you've got control, and you've got power in that shot. You were born to be out there, making those runs. I'll help you get there if you're willing to put in the work."

Anthony's face broke into a grin. "I'm in. Thanks, Coach."

After seeing the players off, Edward headed back to the pitch to watch the match between Team C and Team D. He was pleased as he spotted a promising talent among the Team D players.

"What's that striker's name?" he asked the Team D coach, watching intently as the striker performed an elastico to slip past the defender in front of him.

"Theo Barnett," the Team D coach replied, crossing his arms as he followed Theo's movements. "English striker, former Manchester City U19 player. Got let go because he was close to the previous coach, and the new coach didn't appreciate that. Now he's auditioning for our club."

"He's a good talent; I can tell," Edward murmured, continuing to observe the rest of the players.

The match ended with a 2-1 victory for Team D, with Theo scoring both goals and already making a mark as a potential striker for the team.

"That was a nice match; the players here are really good," Edward told the Team D coach, shaking his hand before heading inside and upstairs to his new office.

Once there, he sat in his chair, dropping the stack of papers containing player information on the desk in front of him. Taking a moment, he studied his office, the reality of his role as coach setting in, filling him with both a sense of responsibility and a hint of anxiety.

A call interrupted his thoughts. Noticing an unknown number on the screen, he frowned slightly before answering. "Hello? Who is this?"

"Hello, Coach Edward. This is Mr. Kendall, the team's lawyer. I'm calling to inform you that the contract negotiations with Mr. Dylan are complete. We'll have him with us for five years on a 40,000 wage deal. After tomorrow's match, he'll choose his official jersey number and meet with the PR team to get his picture posted on the team's official social media account," the voice on the other end said, bringing a smile to Edward's face.

"Thank you, Mr. Kendall. Have a good afternoon," Edward replied, hanging up the phone. He took a sheet of paper and a pen, writing down the names "Dylan, Anthony, and Theo" with a renewed sense of purpose.

"Can't wait for tomorrow," .