The Real Work Begins

Jace Holloway had done it.

He had earned a spot at Brighton's academy.

No more trial periods.

No more waiting to prove himself.

He belonged now.

But this wasn't the end of his journey—it was the beginning.

If Jace wanted to go from academy player to first-team prospect, he had to work harder than ever to prove there was no one in the team better than him for the coach to recommend him highly.

Jace had barely signed his contract before reality hit him:

Life at a Premier League academy was brutal.

The first week after earning his spot, he was given a full schedule—

Training sessions. Gym work. Tactical meetings. Video analysis.

There was no room for error.

Everything was tracked.

Every sprint time.

Every completed pass.

Every missed chance.

Brighton didn't just want good players.

They wanted elite players.

And Jace had to prove he could keep up and he actually wanted to be the number one, though.

"Let's go, lads! Pick up the intensity!"

Coach Barker's voice echoed through the training ground as the players worked through a passing drill.

The tempo was insane.

One-touch passes.

Quick turns.

Constant movement.

Jace had trained hard to get here, but this was different and was a bit new.

This was relentless.

He received the ball and tried to flick it past a defender—

Intercepted.

"Too slow, Holloway!" the defender barked.

Jace clenched his jaw.

He wasn't used to not being the fastest on the pitch.

Speed alone wasn't enough anymore.

After training, the squad was brought into a meeting room for a video session.

Clips of their previous matches were played on a big screen.

Coach Barker paused the video.

"Jace, what's wrong here?"

Jace studied the clip.

It was a replay of a play where he had sprinted into space—only to receive the ball and immediately lose it under pressure.

That move Jace made was highly unprofessional and inaccurate.

"I should've checked my shoulder before receiving," Jace admitted.

The coach nodded.

"Exactly. You've got the speed, but football is played in your head as much as it is in your feet. You need to know what's around you before the ball arrives."

Jace took mental notes.

This was the next level.

Speed got him here.

Awareness would keep him here.

Later that evening, Jace found himself in the academy's gym, struggling to complete a set of weighted squats.

"You're moving like an old man, Holloway," one of his teammates teased.

Jace exhaled sharply and pushed through the final rep.

"Mate, my legs are dead."

A coach walked by and patted Jace on the shoulder.

"Get used to it. If you want to survive in men's football, you need more than just speed. Strength matters."

Jace nodded, wiping sweat from his face.

This was actually true, Jace nodded.

He knew he had work to do.

The pace of academy football was one thing.

But if he wanted to make it to the first team?

He had to become stronger.

---

Jace's first official match as a Brighton academy player came against Southampton's U18s.

It wasn't a friendly.

It was a league match.

Jace was named in the squad but started on the bench.

The message from the coaching staff was clear—

He wasn't a guaranteed starter yet.

He had to earn it.

The match started at a blistering pace.

Southampton's academy had a reputation for developing tactically intelligent players. And they were strong as well and played like someone was actually controlling them.

And it showed.

Their midfield was controlling the tempo.

Brighton were struggling to create chances.

Jace watched from the bench, analyzing their movements.

He knew he could help.

He knew he could change the game.

Then, in the 60th minute—

"Holloway, warm up!"

Jace's heart pounded.

His chance was coming.

Five minutes later, Jace was on the pitch.

The coach pulled him aside before he stepped on.

"Use your pace, but don't rush it. Be smart."

Jace nodded.

As soon as he got on the field, he felt the intensity.

No space.

No time to think.

Just instinct.

Then, a chance.

Brighton won the ball in midfield.

Jace sprinted forward, pointing where he wanted the pass.

The ball came.

He took a touch—perfect.

The defender lunged in—Jace knocked the ball past him and took off.

The keeper rushed out.

Jace stayed calm and slotted it into the bottom corner.

Goal.

His first official academy goal.

The team celebrated around him.

But Jace wasn't celebrating.

He was already thinking about the next one.

Because this was just the beginning.

And he was actually doing better.