Richard New Life

On the way to the academy, Coach Tyler glanced at Richard and said, "You'll get a room, but you'll have to share it with someone else."

"Yes, Coach. I'll remember," Richard replied seriously, his mind already focused on the challenges ahead.

Throughout the drive, Coach Tyler gave Richard several instructions—reminding him of the academy's strict schedule, the importance of discipline, and what it would take to succeed.

When they arrived, Richard stepped out of the car, his eyes widening with curiosity as he took in the impressive academy building standing before him.

"Grab your luggage," Coach Tyler instructed. "I'll show you to the room where you'll be staying for the rest of your academy life."

Richard followed him through the hostel corridors, the sound of distant voices and the faint scent of freshly-cut grass filling the air.

Stopping in front of a door, Coach Tyler turned and said, "This is your room. Meet your roommate and get settled. I'll be on my way."

"Okay, Coach," Richard answered, watching as Tyler left him alone.

Taking a deep breath, Richard knocked on the door.

"Who's there?" a voice called from inside.

"I'm your new roommate, assigned by Coach Tyler," Richard responded.

The door swung open, revealing a tall, athletic boy who appeared to be about sixteen. He gave Richard a once-over and smirked. "Oh, it's you. I was told you'd be arriving, but I didn't expect you to be so young."

"Yeah," Richard said simply.

"Get in," the boy said, stepping aside.

Richard entered the room and took a quick glance around—two beds, a double study table, and a shared wardrobe. It felt simple but comfortable enough.

As Richard unpacked his belongings, his roommate leaned against the wall. "By the way, my name's Austin Crowley."

"Hi, I'm Richard Collin," Richard replied, extending his hand.

Austin shook it firmly, then added, "Since you're new, you'll be starting on the third string, but after you're done unpacking, do you want to meet the first-string team?"

Richard smiled. "Yeah, sure. Let's go meet them."

Once Richard finished settling in, he followed Austin to the neighboring room.

Austin knocked on the door, and a voice from inside said, "I'm coming."

The door opened to reveal a slightly older boy. "Oh, it's you, Austin," he said, eyeing Richard curiously.

"Yeah. Where's Ryan?" Austin asked.

"He's doing extra practice—probably at the training ground," the boy answered.

"Will the others be there too?" Austin inquired.

"Most of them," the boy replied.

"Good. By the way, this is our new teammate," Austin said, gesturing toward Richard.

"His name's Richard Collin," he added as Richard stepped forward and extended his hand.

"Hello," Richard greeted him politely.

"Hey," the boy replied, shaking his hand. "You're a lot younger than the rest of us."

"I am," Richard admitted with a small chuckle.

"Alright, we'll head to the practice ground," Austin said, and the two of them left.

When they arrived at the field, Richard's eyes sparkled with excitement. Players were scattered across the area—some running laps, others practicing drills, and a few engaged in small-sided games.

Austin called out, "Hey, guys! Come here—I want to introduce you to our new addition."

A group of players approached, their attention fixed on Richard.

"So, who's the kid?" a tall player named Logan asked, folding his arms.

"His name's Richard Collin, and Coach Tyler himself selected him," Austin revealed.

A wave of murmurs swept through the group. Coach Tyler's direct selection was no small thing.

"Hello, everyone," Richard said, trying to keep his nerves in check.

After a brief pause, the players echoed, "Hey," acknowledging him.

"Wait—Coach Tyler personally picked him?" Logan asked, his expression shifting to one of interest.

"Yeah," Austin confirmed. Then he clapped Richard on the shoulder. "Alright, that's enough for today. Let's get you some rest."

As they returned to their room, Richard felt a mix of pride and pressure building inside him.

The Next Day

A knock at the door woke Richard early in the morning.

"Coach Tyler wants to see you," a staff member informed him.

"I'll be right there," Richard said, quickly getting dressed and heading toward the coach's office.

When he arrived, he knocked and said, "Sir, may I come in?"

"Come in," Coach Tyler called.

Richard entered, standing tall. "You wanted to see me, Coach?"

"Yes," Tyler said, his tone serious. "As you know, this academy has three levels—third string, second string, and first string."

"I understand," Richard replied.

"You'll be starting from the third string," Tyler continued. "If you want to play in the U-17 World Championship, you'll have to earn your place on the first string. Are you ready for that?"

"Yes, Coach," Richard said with determination.

"Good." Coach Tyler handed him a location card. "Take this to the third-string practice ground and report to Assistant Coach Travis Beckett."

"Yes, sir," Richard said, bowing slightly before leaving the office.

When Richard arrived at the third-string training ground, he observed the players carefully. Some were working through drills while others were scrimmaging.

He approached a middle-aged man who stood at the center of the action. "Sir, Coach Tyler sent me," Richard said, handing him the card.

The man scanned the card before looking up. "Ah, you're the new kid. I'm Travis Beckett—the assistant coach. Get changed and report back here."

"Yes, Assistant Coach," Richard replied, hurrying off to the locker room.

After changing, he returned promptly, ready to prove himself.

"Start with a warm-up and then join the passing drill," Assistant Coach Beckett instructed.

"Yes, sir," Richard answered.

He followed the warm-up routine with precision before heading to the drill area. With each pass and movement, he felt his confidence growing.

After a while, Assistant Coach Beckett called him over. "Alright, come with me—I want to see what you're really made of."

"Yes, Assistant Coach," Richard said, falling in step beside him.

As they walked away, Richard didn't notice the sharp, disdainful glare from one of the players—a boy already viewing him as an unwelcome rival.

A storm was brewing, and Richard was right at the center of it.