A Bend In The Road

The press room wasn't buzzing like it had been after the Milan match. No laughter echoing off the concrete walls. No cheeky smirks exchanged between journalists in the front row. No excited whispers passing from camera crew to camera crew about "Alex Walker's Lecce magic." The energy in the room was lower now, muted, like a thick fog had settled in the corners. Respectful, even.

Because Lecce had lost their first match under Alex Walker.

But the performance had been anything but disgraceful.

Luca Ferretti stood awkwardly in front of the sponsor backdrop, the cheap white lights above him humming, shining down with that unforgiving brightness that made sweat glisten on young skin and cast shadows under tired eyes. He blinked into the lights, shifting from one foot to another, the lenses of cameras glinting like a wall of tiny, watchful eyes.

He still had braces on his bottom row of teeth.