7:30 AM, Maine Road
The players began arriving in waves, while the coaching staff busied themselves setting up the equipnt.
It was genuinely amusing to see a group of big n with sleepy eyes and expressions that looked like they wanted to complain—but didn't dare. Fortunately, the atmosphere remained relaxed.
Richard stood on the edge of the pitch, watching as the players shuffled onto the training ground.
So were still stretching their stiff muscles, others stifled yawns, clearly battling the lingering grip of sleep.
Early morning training clearly wasn't their favorite routine—but none of them dared voice their complaints. At least, not out loud.
In the past, training sessions usually started at 10:00. But due to Ronaldo's underwhelming physical performance in the last match against Newcastle, Richard had called for an ergency session. In other words, it was ti to sharpen the squad's fitness for the next fixture.
Leeds United.
They had suddenly appointed forr Arsenal boss George Graham as their new manager.
With his one-year ban from football now over, George Graham was reportedly set to take charge of Leeds United—18 months after being sacked by Arsenal for accepting illegal paynts.
The next match definitely wouldn't be easy. Everyone knew exactly what to expect from Graham's tactics: ultra-defensive, "park-the-bus" football. That ant one thing—stamina would be crucial. If City wanted to suffocate Leeds and leave them breathless, they'd have to outwork them from the first whistle to the final minute.
Javier Zanetti was among the first to arrive—already dressed, boots laced, and fully prepared even before Jens Lehmann and Henrik Larsson stepped onto the pitch.
Richard nodded when he saw them. History doesn't lie.
The three veterans, seasoned at the highest level, embodied true professionalism. Their punctuality, discipline, and intensity imdiately set the tone for the rest of the squad. These were players who treated every training session with the sa seriousness as a competitive match.
Sotis, fitness isn't just about physical capability—it's about willpower. Many players have overco limitations through sheer determination. And Zanetti for example, a true fighter, was living proof. The fact that he would later beco an irreplaceable captain at Inter Milan spoke volus about his character and professionalism. There was nothing to criticize about his attitude.
As for the main protagonist—the one responsible for this early morning session in the first place—Ronaldo…
Richard's mouth twitched.
Despite his recent fitness concerns, the Brazilian carried himself with an easy smile, greeting everyone he passed with his usual laid-back charm.
Ronaldo gave Richard a nod and moved to greet him as he passed, but Richard simply waved his hand and pointed toward Robertson—whose expression was anything but cheerful. Ronaldo caught the ssage imdiately. With a sheepish smile, he diverted course and headed straight to the stretching area.
Everyone struggled to hold back their laughter as they looked at Ronaldo, who arrived looking like he'd just rolled out of bed.
He rubbed his eyes, let out a long sigh, and then flashed his trademark lazy smile. "Morning, boss," he greeted Robertson in his usual laid-back tone—sohow sounding more relaxed and friendly than he had the day before.
Thankfully, although Robertson looked visibly unimpressed, his tolerance was leagues above that of O'Neill. Instead of snapping, he couldn't resist cracking a joke.
"Did you sleep here or what? You look like you haven't even woken up yet."
Ronaldo chuckled. "Maybe I should. That way, I can just roll straight onto the pitch."
That set off a small wave of laughter. Ferdinand leaned in and grinned, "Just make sure you don't roll back into bed, yeah?"
Robbie Savage chid in with a laugh, "Or we'll have to start dragging you out with a forklift every morning."
Even Ronaldo couldn't help but laugh along, shaking his head as he joined the others for warm-ups.
The new guys—like Buffon, Pirlo, Lampard, and Capdevila—seed unusually friendly, and Richard couldn't help but wonder if Robertson's quiet charisma was already influencing the atmosphere.
As for Nakata and Okocha, they still weren't fluent in English, so they remained a bit isolated for now. However, Richard had already arranged for a translator and English lessons, so it was understandable if they seed a little withdrawn at the mont.
Only Okocha, who had played exceptionally well in the previous match, had started to blend in more with his teammates. The bond he built during his goal celebration seed to carry over, helping him open up and connect with others more naturally.
CLAP!
A single, sharp clap echoed across the training ground.
All heads turned.
"Alright," Robertson said, his voice calm but commanding. "Today's session will be led by Dr. Schlumberger. Focus on him the sa way you'd focus on a match. No shortcuts."
There were murmurs and glances among the players—so curious, others trying to gauge how intense things were about to get.
"Morning, gentlen," Schlumberger began, voice steady and with a slight German accent. "Today we are doing a full diagnostic session—movent patterns, cardio thresholds, and joint mobility."
Everyone nodded, having grown used to these sessions but then ca the unexpected part.
"I want baseline data for every player," Dr. Schlumberger announced. "This includes GPS tracking, lactate thresholds, hamstring flexibility, and explosive power tests."
For a mont, silence hung over the training ground like a fog.
"…Lactate what?"
"GPS?"
"Thresholds? Explosive power?"
A few players glanced at each other, their expressions a mixture of confusion and mild concern.
They had never heard anything like this before!
English football (and most of the world's football, to be fair) was still largely traditional in its approach. Advanced sports science thods simply weren't widely adopted or accessible yet.
The reason?
First, they were too expensive.
Second, this kind of equipnt didn't even exist in usable forms for athletes.
Basically, all the equipnt being used here was sourced through Richard's request from Wythenshawe Hospital, which was currently in collaboration with Manchester City.
Thanks to the creativity of Schlumberger and Fevre, they managed to modify bulky, non-portable, technician-reliant hospital equipnt into sothing that could be used ahead of its ti—long before such tools were expected to appear in football.
"Co here, everyone needs to use this."
Since no real GPS sports technology existed yet, they could only rely on pedoters or acceleroters from hospital gait labs to asure distance and movent patterns.
Sure enough, everyone's premonition was confird. Schlumberger, thinking about the training session planned for the day, suspected that any good first impressions might fade very quickly.
With this thought in mind, he decided to be frank—and since Ronaldo, the main reason this training session was happening, just so happened to be nearby, he gave the Brazilian a pat on the shoulder.
"Don't worry," he said with a grin. "This session will wake up every cell in your body."
But Schlumberger's version of a reassuring pat only made Ronaldo shudder.
CLICK!
The sound of a cara shutter and murmurs outside Maine Road could be heard.
The interaction between City staff and players was discreet—until so clever paparazzi found a gap in the fencing around Maine Road and captured the mont. After all, Manchester City were the talk of England, especially after their ruthless win over Newcastle.
Richard could only sigh. He felt helpless dealing with these people.
No matter how much they tried to shield Maine Road from prying eyes, the paparazzi would always find another angle. By tomorrow, they'd surely discover a new vantage point, making all their efforts feel pointless.
Curious about what was unfolding behind the scenes at the newly revitalized Manchester City, many had started arriving early—desperate for a glimpse of what made this team tick.
Other than Okocha and Larsson, who were widely praised for their performances in the last match, the dia and fans in England recently found another hot topic: John Robertson vs. Martin O'Neill.
4-3-3 vs. 4-4-2.
One embraced a possession-based style, while the other favored a counter-attacking approach.
The British dia had a knack for hyping up managers or players as the next big thing—elevating them as geniuses or future legends—only to tear them down at the first sign of failure. This kind of spotlight could drag Manchester City into the public eye long before they had accomplished anything aningful.
Still, today's training session, Richard thought, was part of a deliberate effort to build montum and keep the buzz alive. So, for now, he decided to let the paparazzi have their mont.
Once the equipnt was fully introduced and laid out, Dr. Schlumberger stepped forward to address the squad.
"Okay, guys, today marks the official start of our preparation for the upcoming match against Leeds United—four days from now. I hope you're all ready for what's coming. As Manchester City players, it's honestly disappointing that if—despite the huge investnt—we failed to qualify for any European competition this season."
"…"
"What I an is this," Schlumberger said, pointing to the pedoter and video setup used for manual GPS tracking.
"Do you know how much we've invested in each of these pieces of equipnt?"
"…"
"No one? Let tell you."
Silence followed his words. He paused, letting the weight of his ssage sink in.
"Three point nine million."
The players exchanged glances. Those who needed translators, like Okocha and Nakata, looked visibly taken aback.
Schlumberger nodded. From his perspective, their reactions were encouraging—it ant they understood the magnitude of what they were a part of.
"We have the squad. We have the resources. Now we need the ntality," he continued, his tone firm but composed.
"This season, we have two main objectives. First, we must get back into Europe. Whether it's the Champions League or the Europa League, we belong on the continental stage—though I doubt anyone here would choose the Europa League over the Champions League."
"Second, we will play football that demands respect—not just from our fans, but from every opponent we face. Every club we play must feel both respect and fear, no matter the result."
He took a breath before delivering his final ssage:
"Believe in yourselves. You all have the ability to achieve greatness. The fact that you're wearing this jersey proves it. Don't let us—the fans, your families, , the coaching staff, or your teammates—down. Prove to the world that you have what it takes to achieve greatness."
Richard and Robertson glanced at each other, eyebrows raised. They had no idea this doctor could motivate people. They thought he was just here to poke knees and asure hamstrings.
Clearly, Schlumberger's words had cleared the haze hanging over most of the players. The younger ones—like Pirlo, Lampard, and Capdevila—were fired up and full of fighting spirit, while the veterans, including Ronaldo, who had looked half-asleep earlier, now stood tall, focused, and ready for battle.
"Now, disband and start warming up. Today's training will be very hard—don't say I didn't warn you."
With that, he returned to the sidelines, becoming a spectator as Robertson and the others took charge of the warm-up.
User Comments
0 comments from readers