The New Challenger

Jace Holloway had tasted success on the training pitch. The goal he scored in the last scrimmage had fueled something inside him—a hunger to keep proving himself to be a threat to the defenders.

But one goal in a training match meant nothing if he couldn't do it consistently.

Coach Davies had been clear: the school's first friendly match was in two weeks. There were no guarantees Jace would start because he was now learning some basic drills and other stuff.

He had two weeks to earn his place because other players were better and they also had more than him.

Two weeks to prove he was more than just a sprinter trying football.

The next day, Jace was up at 5:30 AM again.

The soreness from the last gym session hadn't fully faded, but that didn't matter. He wasn't stopping.

At the gym, he focused on leg strength, balance, and core stability. Squats, weighted lunges, deadlifts—each rep burned, but he welcomed it.

The stronger he got, the fewer defenders could bully him, and since he also wanted to be a threat, he had to gain strength to become stable on the pitch.

After his workout, he headed to the school's training ground. Marcus was already there, juggling a football.

Jace smirked. "Didn't think you were an early riser."

Marcus laughed. "Figured you'd be here, and someone's gotta help you stop playing like a lost track star."

Jace rolled his eyes but appreciated it.

For the next hour, Marcus drilled him on first touch, passing, and positioning.

Jace was improving, but one thing was clear—his movements were still too predictable.

"You need to be unpredictable, mate," Marcus said after Jace lost the ball for the third time in a row. "Defenders are reading you too easily. You can't just rely on speed. Mix it up."

Jace nodded. He wasn't just here to run past people. He needed to become an unreadable and dangerous, unpredictable.

That afternoon, team training was more intense than ever.

Coach Davies had them running through high-intensity pressing drills. Jace wasn't used to defensive work, but he had no choice.

Football wasn't just about attacking.

It was about fighting for every ball.

When his turn came to press, he charged down Theo, trying to force him into a mistake. But Theo was too smart—he used his body to shield the ball and passed out of danger.

Jace gritted his teeth. He needed to be stronger. Smarter.

"Not bad," Theo said. "But pressing's not just about sprinting at someone. You have to guide them where you want them to go."

Jace listened carefully. Every little tip mattered.

Coach Davies set up a small-sided game—a high-pressure, quick-passing match with minimal space to move.

Jace's first few touches were sloppy. He wasn't used to playing in such tight spaces.

Then, halfway through, he found himself with the ball at his feet and two defenders closing in.

For a split second, his instinct told him to sprint.

But he ignored it.

Instead, he faked a pass, turned sharply, and cut between the defenders before slipping a pass to Marcus.

Marcus grinned. "That's what I'm talking about!"

Jace exhaled. He was learning.

Later in training, they worked on aerial duels.

Jace had never been great in the air. He had always relied on his speed on the ground, but football wasn't just played with feet.

His turn came against Theo.

As the ball came in, Jace jumped—but Theo bodied him mid-air, knocking him off balance.

Jace crashed onto the grass.

He sat up, frustrated.

"Use your body better," Theo said, offering a hand. "You can't just jump—you need to position yourself before the ball comes."

Jace took the advice to heart. On his next attempt, he timed his jump better and used his arms to shield off his opponent.

This time, he won the header.

Progress.

The day ended with a full-pitch scrimmage.

Jace had another chance to shine—but also another chance to make mistakes.

In the first half, Marcus played him through with a perfect pass. Jace had space, but instead of cutting inside like before, he went wide.

He sprinted toward the goal but took too long to decide what to do next.

A defender closed in and stole the ball.

Coach Davies whistled. "Quicker decisions, Holloway!"

Jace cursed under his breath.

A few minutes later, another opportunity came.

This time, instead of overthinking, he trusted his instincts.

He cut inside quickly, faked a shot, then laid off a pass to Callum, who smashed the ball into the net.

Assist.

Jace exhaled. He was getting better.

But he still had a long way to go.

As training wrapped up, Marcus clapped Jace on the shoulder. "You're improving fast, mate."

Jace sighed. "Still making too many mistakes."

"That's how you learn," Marcus said. "Football isn't just about being fast—it's about making the right decisions. You'll get there."

Jace nodded.

He had come a long way from being a sprinter trying football.

Now, he was a footballer in the making.

And he wasn't stopping until he was unstoppable.