NOC*NSF 2nd Appointment

The NOC*NSF Training Center still felt quiet when Arghana stepped inside.

Although he had been here a few times before, the atmosphere of the building—filled with sports specialists and athletes from various disciplines—still made him feel a little out of place.

But that wasn't what was troubling his mind right now.

He made his way to the consultation room, where a neurology specialist was already waiting for him.

Sitting across the desk was Dr. Annelies De Groot, a seasoned sports neurologist who had worked with many athletes dealing with unique conditions.

A woman in her fifties, her sharp but understanding gaze immediately locked onto him as he sat down.

"Glad you could come again, Arghana," Dr. Annelies greeted while organizing a few documents on her desk. "So, you had some things you wanted to ask, right?"

Arghana nodded and took the seat provided. For a moment, the room felt quieter than it should've been.

"There's a lot I want to ask, Doctor," he said. "Especially about the treatment I can do to control this condition."

The doctor gave a slight smile and adjusted the papers in front of her. "Of course. So far, there are a few approaches we can try.

But before that, I'd like to understand more.

Hyperfocus in the context of sports can stem from many different things.

From cases we've seen in other athletes, there's a possibility that mental or emotional factors play a role here."

Arghana frowned slightly. "You mean... this might be connected to my emotional experiences?"

"It's possible," the doctor nodded slowly.

"But keep in mind, it's not a certainty.

Some athletes experience similar states due to specific backgrounds—it could be from training environments as a child, or it might be the brain's defense mechanism against past stress or pressure.

But don't worry—everything shared in this session is completely confidential."

Arghana fell silent. He wasn't used to talking about his past—not even to himself.

But if it really had something to do with what he was going through now, maybe it was worth revisiting.

"I'm not sure if it's related," he said finally, "but ever since I was a kid, I always felt like I had to prove something.

Whether it was at school or on the football field.

There was always this urge to not fall behind, to push harder than everyone else."

The doctor nodded, listening closely. "That urge—do you feel it more intensely at certain moments?"

Arghana thought for a moment. "When things get tough. When everything feels like it's closing in.

That's when I feel sharpest."

The doctor jotted something down, then said, "Interesting.

If there's a link to childhood experiences or recurring competitive pressure, we can further explore how this mechanism works in your body.

And for that, we'll use a combined approach:

breathing therapy to control the transition between extreme focus and normal phases, and cognitive training to understand when and how your brain enters this mode."

Arghana nodded, starting to grasp it better. But before the session ended, there was one more thing he wanted to show her.

"Doctor," he said hesitantly, pulling out his phone. "I want to show you something."

He opened a video.

A clip of Romeo Castelen—his agile dribbling under pressure, his explosive movements.

The doctor squinted. "What are you getting at?"

Arghana didn't answer.

He immediately switched to a second video—a clip from his match against FC Eindhoven.

His movements back then, his instincts, how his body reacted under pressure. It all felt… familiar.

The doctor watched the screen, silent for a moment. Her eyes narrowed, analyzing every detail of Arghana's movements.

Then, without warning, she burst out laughing.

"The human brain is incredible!" she exclaimed.

"You probably didn't realize it, but in your hyperfocus state, your body isn't just reacting—it's accessing movement patterns stored in your memory.

You were mimicking without even knowing it."

Arghana froze. It felt like something he had ignored all along was now slowly coming into focus.

"So, this wasn't a coincidence?"

The doctor smiled.

"No. This is your brain connecting old information to new situations.

And if you can understand that mechanism, you might be able to control it."

Arghana looked back at his phone screen.

More questions began swirling in his head.

But one thing was certain—he was getting closer to understanding what had been happening inside him all this time.

The therapy session came to an end.

===

The train carrying Arghana back to Deventer rolled steadily along the tracks, while his thoughts remained fixed on the consultation earlier that afternoon.

He opened the envelope containing the treatment plan given by Dr. Annelies.

The paper felt oddly heavy in his hands—not because of its weight, but because of what was written on it.

Physical training pattern – adjusting training intensity and load so his body could better endure the effects of hyperfocus, without suffering a severe crash.

Yoga – to help balance body and mind, and improve control over his focus without relying on spontaneous trance-like states.

Breathing techniques – two specific methods were mentioned:

Snipe Breath, a technique used by snipers and athletes to stay calm under pressure, and the Wim Hof Method, known for increasing the body's oxygen capacity and helping regulate the nervous system.

Arghana read each point carefully. The physical training routine made sense.

Yoga? That might take time to get used to, but he wasn't about to reject anything that could help him improve.

The breathing techniques—this was what intrigued him the most.

He had heard of the Wim Hof Method, but never tried it.

If this technique could help him control his hyperfocus without burning out too quickly, then it was worth it.

Yet behind all of that, there was one thing that made him smile bitterly.

Tucked beneath the treatment recommendations was another sheet of paper.

Billing: 500 Euros.

He let out a half-smile.

The train kept moving toward Deventer, and Arghana returned to pondering his next step.

One thing was certain—tomorrow, he would begin trying all of this. One step at a time.