First day

*** I'm totally slumped lol, so might not continue this on a regular basis. Might be updates weekly once, or if any one has some free time and writing experience, feel free to send me a pm on discord, and I'll give you the story for adoption. ***

The air buzzed with anticipation the moment Henry Baskerville's sleek black car pulled up the tree-lined drive to Fulham's brand-new training complex.

At 8:00 AM sharp, the gates swung open on a crisp spring morning, and the grass gleamed green enough to blind anyone who'd ever trained on a muddy pitch.

For the first time, the players' arrival—once a dull procession of squad-issue tracksuits—felt like a royal parade.

Henry stepped out, adjusted his Fulham-branded windbreaker, and inhaled deeply. A grin spread across his face: this was it, his masterpiece in motion. He strode toward the main pitch, where the entire squad had gathered in a semi-circle around the new center-line crest.

There they stood, world-class stars and hopeful youngsters alike, all waiting for the man who—mere weeks ago—none of them had even seen.

As Henry walked onto the pitch, Jude Bellingham was the first to break rank, sprinting forward with a wide grin.

Bellingham (breathless, excited): "Boss! You seeing this? This grass is softer than my mum's pillows!"

Henry (laughing): "Enjoy it, Jude. This is just the beginning."

A hush fell over the crowd as Henry raised his hand for attention. The clatter of water bottles setting down was deafening.

Henry: "Good morning, everyone—and welcome to Fulham Football Club's new era. I know some of you have just stepped off private jets; others are returning from loan spells. But today, we're all equals. We're a team. And I've got a vision to share."

He glanced at his assistant coach, who flipped a large magnetic tactics board toward him.

Henry tapped the board, where a bold 4-3-3 formation gleamed in red and white magnets.

Henry: "Here's how we'll line up. I've chosen a dynamic 4-3-3 attacking system. We'll be fluid in possession, but disciplined off the ball. Let's run through it."

He pointed at the goal:

Henry: "Andriy Lunin, you're our No.1. Quick off your line, commanding in the box. Alphonse Areola, you're our secret weapon—ready to step in, keep everyone on their toes. Rotation is key. I want both of you sharp."

Lunin, wearing gloves two sizes too big for him originally, nodded earnestly. Areola gave a mock bow.

Lunin: "Sir, I promise to catch everything that comes my way—except, maybe, cold pies."

Areola (murmuring): "Please, no pies on the pitch today."

Henry grinned and moved along the back line magnets.

Henry: "Centre-backs: Rúben Dias and Joachim Andersen. Partners in crime. Rúben, you're the anchor—organize, communicate, lead with authority. Jo—great footwork, don't shy from stepping into midfield when we build from the back."

Dias nodded, chest puffed, while Andersen gave a shy thumbs-up.

Dias: "I'll keep everything locked down. If anyone sneaks by me, they'll need a ladder."

Andersen: "And if they ladder it, I'll be waiting at the top."

Laughter rippled through the players. Henry swapped the board magnets to show rotation options.

Henry: "Ronald Araújo and Tosin Adarabiyo, you're up next in rotation. Both of you will get plenty of minutes—this season, you're more than backups. You're part of the plan."

Araújo and Adarabiyo bumped fists, the competitive spark already in their eyes.

Henry shifted to full-backs.

Henry: "Right-back: Sergiño Dest. Explosive, fearless. I want you hugging the touchline, bombing forward. Back-up: Kenny Tete. Provide cover and crossfield passes. Left-back: Nuno Mendes—sneak past opponents, whip in crosses. And Antonee Robinson, you're my utility man on the left. Defensive solidity plus attacking flair."

Dest flipped imaginary pistons in his arms; Mendes cracked his knuckles.

Dest: "I'll run so fast they'll need headlights to follow me back."

Mendes: "My crosses will be your nightmares."

Henry's finger tapped three magnets in midfield.

Henry: "Central two: Federico Valverde and Jude Bellingham. Box-to-box engines. Federico, you have the stamina of a marathon runner. Jude, the vision of an eagle. Both of you, control the tempo—push forward, retreat, no L-shaped gaps. Attacking mid: Florian Wirtz. Creative hub. Find pockets between the lines, thread those killer passes."

Wirtz whispered, almost to himself:

Wirtz: "I've got enough passes in me to fill the Thames…"

Henry (smiling): "Save a few for the second half, Florian."

He added the rotation midfielders.

Henry: "Eduardo Camavinga, Ruben Loftus-Cheek, André Zambo Anguissa—you'll rotate in for high-intensity games or when I need a fresh spark. Zambo, your strength and screens will free up the others. Ruben L-C, your late runs from deep will surprise defenses. Eduardo, your ball-winning is second to none. I'll rely on you for Defensive setups."

Camavinga pounded his chest. Loftus-Cheek flexed his shoulders. Anguissa crouched like a coiled spring.

Finally, Henry tapped the forward line.

Henry: "Our front three: Right wing—Rodrygo. Take defenders on, cut inside, curl it in. Left wing—Cristiano Ronaldo. Mentor, match-winner, free-kick specialist. I trust you to bury those chances. Centre-forward—Erling Haaland. You're the target man, power, pace, pure goal threat. When needed, Rafael Leão can swap in on either flank or centre—he's our Swiss Army knife."

Haaland's eyes glittered.

Haaland: "I'm ready to tear nets apart. And if I need to play on the wing—watch out, defenders."

Ronaldo (laughing): "Erling, just aim for the corners. I'll teach you my trademark knuckleball."

Leão: "And I'll be that surprise element—one minute as striker, next as winger."

Henry added the loaned squad fillers and youth prospects.

Henry: "Beyond these, Alphonse Areola, Joachim Andersen—loan returners—will see minutes. And our kids: Lamine Yamal, Jamal Musiala, Alphonso Davies, Endrick… You'll train with us, learn every day, and when the moment's right, you'll step on this pitch and show the world why you're here."

With the formation laid out, Henry moved off the board and began one-on-one chats. He drilled into every player their role, but always kept it light-hearted.

With Lunin:

Henry: "Andriy, command that box like it's Buckingham Palace—no one walks in unannounced."

Lunin: "I'll be the butler—they knock, I'll decide if they can enter."

With Dias:

Henry: "Rúben, if you see trouble, sort it. If you see a runner, intercept it. If you see a diner, send them out of our box."

Dias: "All sorted, boss. No one's taking dessert either."

With Valverde & Bellingham:

Henry: "Fede, Jude, you're my twin-engine locomotive. Go full throttle, brake hard when needed, and don't run out of fuel."

Bellingham: "Got it. Overdrive on. Refuel at halftime."

With Wirtz:

Henry: "Florian, be the artist. Paint the field with your passes."

Wirtz: "Just don't ask me to paint the locker room."

With Ronaldo:

Henry: "Cristiano, you're our senior statesman. Mentor these lads, show them how to train, prepare, live like a champion."

Ronaldo: "They'll learn two things: how to score, and how to celebrate."

With Haaland:

Henry: "Erling, run at their backline like it's a game of tag. Tag them out every time."

Haaland: "Tag! You're it," —grin.

Henry: "Exactly."

Henry blew his whistle, and everyone jogged lightly around the perimeter. The group was an eclectic mix: veterans laughing, youngsters grinning wildly, and Henry weaving through, offering quick jokes.

Henry (shouting): "Be careful, lads! The grass is so perfect you might think it's a mattress—and you'll never want to get off!"

Camavinga (panting): "Sir, if it's a mattress, I'm booking in for the night!"

Robinson: "I'm just waiting for someone to try and nap in the corner flags."

Henry: "No napping! Save that for the bus ride home."

Henry organized the midfield and defenders into tight passing grids.

Henry: "Two-touch, two-touch! Keep it sharp. Look for your next pass before you receive the ball."

Valverde danced around defenders, firing crisp passes. Bellingham chatted with Wirtz.

Bellingham: "Imagine you're delivering pizzas—accurate, hot, and landing on the doorstep."

Wirtz: "I'll add extra cheese—creaminess in the through ball."

Ronaldo snoozed dramatically on the sideline until Henry barked.

Henry: "Cristiano, care to join the pizza delivery service?"

Ronaldo (standing up): "Only if the pizza is deep-dish."

Next, Henry directed full-backs and wingers into overlap drills.

Henry: "Dest, race Rodrygo down the right flank. Mendes, weave with Ronaldo on the left. Pull back the cross—stick a boot on it, lads!"

Dest and Rodrygo dashed in unison. Mendes and Ronaldo exchanged a knowing glance before sprinting down the opposite flank.

Mendes: "I'll cross, you finish."

Ronaldo: "I'll finish, you cross—deal."

Henry (watching on iPad "FIFA Manager System" overlay): "Data says 82% of our goals come from flank overloads. Let's make it 100%."

Henry gathered Dias, Andersen, Camavinga, and Loftus-Cheek for a central build-up session.

Henry: "When we break lines, I want long diagonal balls—Dias, use your vision. Jo, step into midfield to open space. Camavinga, screen. Ruben LC, drive forward."

Dias unleashed a 50-yard diagonal that split two mannequins. Andersen slipped a first-time threaded pass to Camavinga.

Camavinga: "This feels like a video game—except I actually have to run."

Henry: "Better start logging those miles on Strava."

Henry marched over to a corner-flag station, where Dest, Araujo, and Zambo were practicing defensive wall jumps. He blew his whistle.

Henry: "Corners. Attack hard, near post, far post—surprise them. And free-kicks? Ronaldo, that's on you."

Ronaldo sauntered over, picked up a ball, and struck it against the post—crisply, with that familiar knuckling dip.

Ronaldo: "I'll take 25 free-kicks in a row if it means one goes in."

Henry: "Make it 23 in a row—no mercy."

With 60 minutes gone, Henry split the squad into two teams for a small-sided 6 vs. 6 scrimmage: the whites versus the blacks.

Henry: "Remember our shape: 4-3-3 to 4-5-1 off the ball, press triggers on my whistle. Attack in under 8 seconds!"

The whistle blew, and chaos ensued. Bellingham chased down impossible balls, Camavinga tackled like a veteran, and Wirtz slipped an inch-perfect pass to Rodrygo, who cut inside and squared to Haaland. The crowd of staff and local media watching erupted.

Media Volunteer (jaw on the floor): "I haven't seen movement like that since Messi's peak days."

Henry (smiling): "We're just warming up."

10. The Mentor MomentAt half-time, the players gathered around Henry. He handed out water bottles and patted Ronaldo on the back.

Henry: "Cristiano, you're our leader. After this session, pull aside a couple of the younger lads—show them how you strike a ball, share your routine."

Ronaldo nodded solemnly, then addressed the youngsters.

Ronaldo: "Listen, lads. Training is 90% discipline, 10% talent. If you want to score 30 goals a season, you practice the same kick 300 times. Got it?"

Youngster (wide-eyed): "Sir, I—I'll practice tomorrow before breakfast."

Ronaldo: "Good. Now show me that free-kick."

Henry tapped his tablet, glancing at the floating FIFA Manager System overlay—green bars for morale, faint yellow for fitness. Everyone's morale was through the roof; fitness dipped slightly for some rotation players.

Henry (to Assistant): "Keep an eye on Zambo and Areola—morale is high, but fitness is around 70%. Give them shorter sessions tomorrow."

The assistant scribbled notes. Henry returned to overseeing drills, confident the system would flag any trouble before it arose.

As the session wound down, Henry blew the final whistle. The squad jogged in a single file, shaking hands and slapping each other's shoulders.

They gathered in a circle at the center, beads of sweat on brows, smiles everywhere.

Henry: "Outstanding work today. You followed instructions, showed intensity, and began to see our style come to life. Tomorrow, we build on this. Remember: attack fast, press in numbers, set pieces can win us games. Most of all—enjoy this. You earned it."

He surveyed the squad one last time.

Henry: "Now, grab a shower, hit the ice bath, and be ready at 9:00 AM sharp. This is just Day One. The legacy continues tomorrow."

13. Players' TakeawaysAs they trudged off the pitch, players chatted animatedly among themselves.

Bellingham to Valverde: "Mate, did you see that through-ball? I swear we could do that in our sleep."

Valverde: "If you can sleep after today, you're dead inside."

Wirtz and Camavinga: Trading notes on how to beat defenders—Wirtz's vision versus Camavinga's tackles.

Haaland and Leão: Practicing celebration ideas—two strikers plotting synchronized dances.

Dest and Mendes: Comparing sprint times—Dest boasting about 35 km/h, Mendes countering 36 km/h.

Dias and Araújo: Discussing line callbacks—they already sounded like long-time partners.

Ronaldo and Loftus-Cheek: A mini-mentorship, Ronaldo advising on positioning for late runs.

14. Media and Fan ReactionBy lunchtime, clips of the session were trending on social media.

@FootballHighlights: "Watch Erling Haaland's runaway goal-line tap-in from today's training—ridiculous speed!"

@ModernGaffer: "Fulham's training intensity is next level. Henry Baskerville is building a machine."

Rival fans complained about their own clubs' slump in comparison.

@UnitedWatcher: "We can't even sign a halfway decent right-back, and Fulham have two world-class ones? Send help."

@ArsenalAnalyst: "I'm convinced Fulham will finish above us. They've cracked the code."

But for Fulham supporters, the day's events felt like validation.

@CottageFaithful: "I've watched the training highlights 10 times already. This is real. We're living it."

@FulhamFuture: "Day One under Henry—if this is how it starts, I can't wait to see full speed."

15. Reflection and Looking AheadThat evening, Henry returned to his office overlooking the River Thames. Alfred quietly brought him tea—Earl Grey, precisely how he liked it.

Henry stared at the river, smiling.

Alfred: "Everything went according to plan, sir."

Henry: "Better than plan, Alfred. The lads embraced the system—attacking, pressing, smiling. Tomorrow we add another layer: tactical nuances, opponent analysis, video sessions."

He took a sip.

Henry: "We're building more than a team. We're building a legacy. And if today was Day One, then tomorrow… tomorrow we start writing chapters no one will ever forget."

And so, as the lights of Craven Cottage faded behind him, a new dawn rose for Fulham Football Club. Under Henry Baskerville's bold vision, the club had transitioned from underdog to powerhouse—one training session at a time.

The world watched with bated breath, but Fulham's focus remained unwavering: attack with flair, defend with steel, and above all, enjoy the beautiful game.