On July 10th, the gathering day for Sheffield United finally arrived.
The training base was bustling from the morning, extrely lively.
Many fans from the city arrived early, holding up signs at the entrance, hoping to get autographs and photos with their favorite stars.
Ma’el arrived in sportswear, in a good mood, having long looked forward to joining Sheffield United, and today he finally had the chance to officially integrate.
"Let’s go, let’s head inside first."
Jorson followed behind him and Gilbert, explaining as they walked: "Today’s itinerary for the team includes three main activities, a dical exam, taking photos for appearance, and the afternoon’s intra-squad match."
"An intra-squad match this afternoon?"
Ma’el was a bit surprised, as it was quite unusual for a team to have a match on the first day of returning.
"Perhaps you and Gilbert don’t yet realize how tough things are at the club."
Jorson shook his head and said with pursed lips: "Including you, Sheffield United has six loan players this season, and four free-transfer players, almost occupying half of the first team.
"With a team of rcenaries like this, if the coaching staff doesn’t get familiar quickly, how can they conduct pre-season training?"
Ma’el indeed did not expect that the famous ’Blades’ of Sheffield United would face such a predicant this season.
Logically, a club with such a long history, no financial crises, and decent recent performances should be very attractive to players...
How did the failure to get promoted last season lead to a personnel crisis?
"Is there... internal conflict?"
He looked at Jorson, hoping to gauge if his guess was correct from his expression.
Unexpectedly, Jorson did not hide anything and said with a bitter smile, "Yes, the conflict between Coach Kevin and the players is almost irreconcilable. The managent is preparing to replace him, but I don’t know the exact ti."
"You can say that?" Gilbert, beside him, widened his eyes, this was indeed explosive news.
"It’s no secret, not even who his successor is."
Jorson spoke with a different tone when he reached this point, this ti with admiration: "Garrispeed, you should be very familiar with him."
"It’s him."
Ma’el’s expression shifted; even soone like Gilbert, who grew up in the United Kingdom, would have heard this na.
A living fossil of British football, the first to reach 500 appearances in the British top league, a player who scored in 18 consecutive top league seasons... and the young coach of the Wales national team who mysteriously committed suicide.
"He’s at Sheffield United?"
Gilbert’s expression beca excited, seemingly a fan of Speed, "I thought he was still playing."
"He is still playing."
Jorson looked at them with pride and introduced, "Garrispeed is a registered player of the club, also serving as the team’s first assistant coach.
"When the position of Sporting Director is vacant, he can even be considered half a Sporting Director."
Without needing further explanation, Ma’el already saw that Jorson was likely one of Garrispeed’s loyal supporters, with a more formal relationship with the current head coach.
"You will et him later, he was the one who decided to sign you."
With these words, Jorson quickened his pace towards the dical examination room, where there were already quite a few people.
......
More than an hour later, the three of them, having completed the dical examination, headed towards an administration building.
"Are we going to take the appearance photos next?"
Gilbert was quite eager, "The photos used during broadcast when introducing the starting lineup?"
He even imitated the players’ actions during broadcasts, crossing arms across the chest and laughing with teeth bared and head tilted back, very amusing.
"Not only that, they will also be used for pre-match posters, player posters."
Jorson patiently explained to the two professional team newcors, having been acting as their guide these days, diligently and attentively.
Ma’el and Gilbert combined what he said in the car and had already understood.
He hoped that by making this effort, he could gain the two of them in return for Sheffield United’s efforts this season.
None of the three ntioned it again, keeping a silent understanding in mind.
Ma’el felt Jorson’s approach to this was not rational; two newcors, from the current perspective, were really hard to rely on to save the team.
Moreover, they weren’t big stars, nor were they coming down to provide free technical aid; there’s no way they would slack off...
However, people indeed tend to act irrationally when in extre love or hatred.
Arsenal had a great example, Mr. Wenger.
He bet his own future, staying with the team through its toughest tis.
"However, let’s first go to a brief signing ceremony."
Jorson led the two to the administrative building on the base, heading to the dia room, "Garrispeed is already there waiting for you."
Ma’el had so anticipation, exchanging a glance with Gilbert before quickly following; they also wanted to et this football elder.
"Creak." With Jorson opening a room’s door and making a gesture to enter.
A dia room of about a hundred square feet appeared in front of them, cold and deserted, with only a few caras set up, seemingly belonging to the club itself.
For young players just erging from the youth team, with no professional field stats, it was indeed hard to attract dia attention.
But... this unique first ti still made Ma’el feel fresh and excited.
He took a glance and then fixed his gaze at the front of the dia room.
There stood a middle-aged man in a navy-blue suit, a blue and white striped tie, and a white shirt underneath. His figure was very standard, giving a sense of efficiency, but with tiredness in his eyes.
"Welco, gentlen."
With a squeezed smile, Garrispeed stepped forward to shake hands, "I should have t you earlier, but I was delayed by a trip a few days ago."
"Hello, sir."
Ma’el stepped forward to shake his hand, a slight shoulder-to-shoulder embrace, then stepped to the side.
Once Gilbert completed the introduction gestures, the two sat on the front table of the dia room under Garrispeed’s guidance.
"The club is very pleased to welco both of you."
Garrispeed smiled and placed two contracts in front of them, courteously saying: "You are the last two signings for the team this season, and also the final reinforcents. I hope you enjoy your ti here."
Next, he picked up a pen and opened the contract in front of him, "I believe you’ve seen the detailed contents while at Arsenal. After signing, you will officially be a part of Sheffield United."
Ma’el nodded slightly, picked up the pen, and began writing his na in several places on the contract.
"Click, click!" The club staff standing behind them quickly pressed the cara shutters, capturing the mont.
After signing the contract, Garrispeed stood up and pulled out two new jerseys from beneath the table, handing them to the two, "Let’s take a photo together to commorate this mont."
Ma’el took his number 31 jersey, which he had chosen before coming, as July 31st was his birthday, approaching soon.
As a winger, the best jersey numbers were of course number 7 and number 11.
But such numbers had long been chosen by more senior players in the club, leaving no opportunity for a newcor like him just starting out.
Holding the jersey, Ma’el stood on Garrispeed’s left side, showing a genuine smile.
Gilbert, on the other hand, stood on Garrispeed’s right, smiling just as brightly.
"Click, click!" The shutters clicked rapidly, the flashbulbs kept blinking, capturing this mont.
In the lens, the two young players looked joyful, with eyes full of bright expectation and hope for their future.
As for the middle-aged man in between, he squeezed a bit of hopeful smile from his fatigue, giving a thumbs up.
Every first ti should be rembered, and so should this day.
User Comments
0 comments from readers