723 The Death of an Idealis

As July was about to end, they wrapped up a month's worth of training and warm-up matches Twain had basically confirmed the first team roster for the new season.

※※※

Adriano Moke had been suffering lately. When he received a call from the first team, he was excited. He thought his efforts for the past 10 years has finally been recognized. The cruel reality suddenly struck him.

The head coach, who always liked to wear shades and rarely smiled, did not really give him any approving looks. He could sense that compared to the players, who were drawn from the youth team, he was clearly treated differently. Of course, his performance was not exactly stellar.

The head coach preferred those who were not afraid of physical confrontation in the competition and would actively initiate body contacts. Players like him, who preferred to avoid body contact, were not popular.

Since his promotion to team U16, he had suffered three major injuries. The worst one was while he had been on loan to Sunderland in the previous season. He admitted that he was afraid of having physical confrontation with stronger opponents, but he also thought that it was not wrong if he could reasonably use tactics to avoid physical confrontation. Why was there a need for physical confrontation? If he could train to be so technically competent that the defenders were unable to touch him, then there was no need to directly confront them.

Ever since that first injury, he had been trying to turn these plans into a reality. As such, his techniques improved, making him the best technical player on the team. When he went up against his peers, he excelled in feinting and deceiving or using his incredible speed to dribble pass the defenders. Such methods allowed him to be outstanding on the youth team, which easily impressed the audience. Hence, he was determined by Greenwood to be the most promising youth that season.

However, none of his advantages worked in South Wilford. During his debut for Nottingham's first team in the warm-up match, he faced fierce defenders in the League One team. As much as he wanted to use his techniques to break through the defense, he looked more like he was evading the opponents.

He could still remember it clearly. He had hoarded the ball so excessively that when he lost it to a pair of fullbacks, he caught a glimpse of the captains shaking their heads off the field.

During that match, he was substituted out in the middle of the match. He sat quietly on the reserves bench. He knew he blew it with his performance, but it was only his first match. Besides, everyone would screw up one match. He continued to comfort himself with that mindset. In the matches that followed, he continued to be substituted out halfway through the match or swapped in right before the match ended.

On the other hand, there was a 22-year-old who was still mixing around in the reserve team. He was someone Moke had always made fun of. He was the person everyone said had no future because his skills were average. Yet, Chris Cohen performed so well on the first team that it shocked Moke. He was obedient and brave. His performance on the field was outstanding. It was as if he had already played for the first team for several seasons.

Cohen constantly attacked the left lane and actively participated in defending. Whenever he ran back from the offensive half and forced his opponent to run near the corner flag, Moke, who was on the reserves, would sneakily squint to find the head nodding with approval.

Up until now, he still did not think that he was inferior to Cohen. Whether in terms of talent or technique, he was way better than him. Cohen's techniques were limited to stopping the ball before passing it. Was he even able to lob the ball from the back over his defenders? Could he continuously do step-overs without tripping over the ball? Could he constantly protect the ball while speeding past defenders? Could he lob the ball sufficiently to dodge the opponent's slide tackles at top dribbling speed? Was he able to spin past his defenders with the ball?

Watching him kick the ball only made Moke frown. Cohen was basically a miner kicking the ball. There was not elegance at all. Seeing him play, Moke thought Cohen had a bigger chance of staying on the first team than he did, which he felt was unjust.

※※※

"There are 15 days until the start of the new season," Twain said to Dunn and Kerslake in the office. "The big roster will be confirmed by then. You guys can settle these matters, which would heavily offend people."

Kerslake took the initiative to take over the task. "Let me do it."

The main aim was to notify the players drawn from the youth team and the second-rate team, as well as those youths who joined the league teams in the summer. Just like how they drew the previous first team, Kerslake called the players one by one, informing them if they were to stay on the first team to train or temporarily return back to either their youth team or second-rate team. This was definitely a tough job. Of course, if the players were smart enough, they would understand that these choices were made by Tony Twain.

"Besides, there are three English Football League teams and one League One team interested in Kris Commons. If the price is suitable, just sell him." Twain waved his hands.

He was only selling him now, but Commons' level had been very far off from the team's for a long time. Twain only decided to sell him now for three reasons. First, it was because of the team's financial situation. Selling those who could not bring much contribution to the team would clear up the pay the club gave to them. Second, it prevented Commons from being a bench-warmer forever on the team. Even playing as a starter in the English Football League was far better than wasting his golden years in the Premier League. Although Commons was extremely loyal and did not complain when he was appointed to play as a reserve, Twain still had to make the harsh decision to sell him.

The third reason was because he found a replacement for Commons—Chris Cohen. In the past month, Cohen's performance was observed and remembered by Twain, who thought Cohen's performance and capabilities were all superior compared to Commons.

The fact that he had no complaints about playing for the reserve team for several years was testament that he was the type of player who was willing to accept the fate of being a reserve. Twain loved these types of players the most—those who had potential but no opinions. They would not become the unstable element in the changing room.

※※※

After a day's training, Kerslake announced in front of the players that some young people would receive his call tonight to know if they would be registered for the Premier League for the next season. For these youths, the most critical moment had come.

Moke uneasily returned home. He continued to wait for the assistant coach's call. His heart was filled with lucky fantasies that he would still enter the first team. His basis of thinking came from the previous two warm-up matches. His time on the field was a lot longer compared to the past. He believed that his outstanding techniques and fast breakthroughs in the right lane would move the captain.

After a month, he was not as ambitious. He no longer wished to be the most promising young superstar on his team. He only wanted to play for the first team in the contest, even if he was just a reserve player.

The youth who was initially filled with hopes and dreams had no choice but to throw his unrealistic dreams aside. At 9: 30 p.m., he received the call that determined his fate.

※※※

David Kerslake held up the contact list of the players and found Adriano Moke's name. This was his last call for the day, and the only one that was different. The previous calls had been filled with laughter. He had to be sterner when he dialed this number. This was no laughing matter.

Kerslake did many things that offended people. Dunn and him were Twain's closest assistants. Most of the time, when he interacted with the players, Twain had to be likeable to establish rapport with them. As such, these smaller matters that would upset the players would be left for Dunn and him to handle. Of course, Twain also did things to upset the players on a larger scale, like scolding people in the changing room.

The call went through. "Hi, is this Adriano Moke?"

"Yes, sir, it's me!" One could not tell if the voice on the other side was excited or nervous, but it was different from usual.

Kerslake almost thought he called the wrong number. "Yes…" Kerslake paused for a moment before saying, "You really worked hard in training. Frankly speaking, your techniques really impressed me, and your breakthroughs in the right lane were extremely clean. There was nothing I could do but clap and cheer.

He was not saying any congratulations nor comforting words. It was purely stating Moke's strengths without beating around the bush. After the praises, the conversation changed.

"However." Kerslake took the phone away to softly cough. "I'm sorry to inform you that you are not in the plans for the first team. Yes, I'm talking about the current league's plans. You still have a lot of flaws, but we hope you will continue to accumulate experience in the reserve team's competitions to overcome those flaws. At the same time, you could choose to be loaned out to train as well."

※※※

Everything the assistant coach said after was nothing to Moke. He only heard the part where he said, "Sorry to inform you that you aren't in the plans of the first team." Everything else was just noise ringing in his ears.

Is it over? That was the only thought in his mind. He did not even know when he thanked the assistant coach and hung up.

In the youth team, he had been the most outstanding player. Before he even turned 17, he had received several invitations from other football teams. Those scouts all begged him to sign on to their teams, but he rejected all of them. He was a Nottingham citizen. His family had been Nottingham Forest fans for many generations, so he only wanted to play for Nottingham Forest.

Whether it was David Kerslake, Dunn, or Greenwood, the successive youth training director back then, they were all expecting him to do well. They promised he would have a bright future in Nottingham Forest. He would become a player as outstanding as George Eastwood, wearing the Nottingham Forest uniform every week to showcase his breakthroughs and dribbling techniques to his supportive fans and score continuously.

His room had been filled with the greatest football superstars in the history of the Nottingham Forest team. When he joined the Nottingham Forest youth team, he had the same dream over and over again. There would be a day he would retire from Nottingham Forest and the whole city stadium would be filled with standing football fans chanting his name.

Now, all of that was gone. He could not even get onto the first team.

※※※

On the second day of training, Twain and his coaches were all shocked to see Adriano Moke doing his warm-ups with the team. He glanced toward Kerslake

Kerslake quickly said, "I called him and explicitly told him he was cut."

"Maybe he just felt it was unjust," Dunn commented from the side.

"I…" Just when Twain was about to speak, Kerslake ran out saying, "Let me talk to him again."

※※※

"Moke!" Kerslake's face was blank as he strode to Adriano Moke. He grabbed his arm with one hand and asked, "What are you doing here?"

"To participate in the training, sir." Moke's arm was restricted, so he started working on his legs.

"Was I not clear enough on the phone yesterday?" Kerslake asked. "I told you that you should join the reserve team for training and competitions."

"You were clear enough, sir, but I don't think I'll improve much on the reserve team." Moke stopped and stared at the assistant coach.

Their scuffle attracted the attention of everyone else on the training grounds. The other players, who were also doing their warm-ups, stopped doing what they were doing and turned to look at Kerslake and Moke, who were huddled together.

"Then, you can opt to be on loan to gain experience from competitions, just like the previous two seasons," Kerslake said.

Moke responded with a question. "Is it for a Premier League team?"

"You would need to see if there are any Premier League teams interested in you." Tony Twain's voice echoed from beside the pair. He glanced at Moke before turning to Kerslake. "It looks like you're in trouble, David."

"Very sorry, Tony, uh, I—"

Twain interrupted him and interrogated Moke. "Did Coach Kerslake not tell you on the phone yesterday? Your capabilities are not up to the team's standard, but you could use the reserve team competitions or experience from being loaned out to correct your flaws."

"I don't think I'm that bad. The reserve team and English League are of no use in improving my standards, captain." Even when it was Twain he was confronting, Moke did not shy away from his stare. "My techniques are the best in the youth team in the same league, and my speed is also very good. You've seen me play. Did my breakthroughs by the side lanes not leave any deep impressions on you?"

Twain stared at him for a while, wondering where Moke got his courage from. He turned to look at Kerslake.

"He was indeed outstanding in the youth team…" Kerslake awkwardly shrugged. "No one could defend him one-on-one without fouling."

"I wouldn't let my players play an official match without fouling," Twain commented. He turned back to Moke. "Do you know what your issue is?"

"Physical confrontation, but I have my ways in avoiding those confrontations," Moke said. "I have good techniques, and I'm fast. Even if I'm surrounded by three people, I can immediately get out of the situation. I am smart, and I know how to leverage my strengths to compensate for my flaws,"

He spoke like a promoter frantically trying to explain the strengths of the product in his hands. He did not care how, he just wanted to stay on the first team of Nottingham Forest.

Twain stared at him, almost seemingly wanting to see through him.

※※※

When Twain intervened in the scuffle between Moke and Kerslake, the players present no longer cared about the commands of the coach. They gathered to watch what was going on. They all understood that Moke was excluded from the plans of the new season and felt unjust, which was why he was there to ask for an explanation. The kid was daring. This had never happened in the Nottingham Forest under Twain's coaching.

"Want to bet on whether the kid will get to stay?" Eastwood asked the other players. "I'll be the banker. I have 1-20 odds for him staying and 7-1 for him leaving"

"I don't like that kid, so 200 pounds on him leaving," Pepe said.

It was no surprise Pepe disliked Moke. Every time there was training within the team, Moke always picked on defenders like Pepe, who were recognized by the Premier League and European Football, to have a one-on-one confrontation. If Moke could successfully dribble pass them, he would be obviously excited. This humiliated Pepe. If their head coach allowed this sort of internal conflict, Pepe could not guarantee he would not sock Moke.

After Pepe placed his bet, more and more players participated. The bets increased by the 50s and 100s. Not a single person thought Moke would be able to stay on the team.

"Hey! Hey!" The Gypsy suddenly screamed. "At times like these, you should be betting on the unpopular option."

If everyone bet on Moke leaving, after this betting session, he would not be able to earn anything. According to the odds, if Moke stayed, betting 100 pounds would earn him 2,000 pounds. If the bet did not land, all the money would be given to Eastwood. If he bet on Moke leaving, aside from his 100 pounds, Eastwood would still have to pay him another 14 pounds. As such, unless everyone bet on Moke leaving and Moke left, he would just be setting himself up for failure.

"We'll definitely lose if we bet on the unpopular option," Pepe said. "We're not idiots, Freddy. With these odds, who would bet on him winning?"

Everyone laughed. It was not because everyone hated this bubbly kid like Pepe did. They knew what would become of people who opposed their captain.

"A thousand on him staying," George Wood said from outside the group. Everyone turned to look at him.

"Reason being?" Pepe asked.

"Someone has to let him earn," he said as he pointed at Eastwood.

"Hey!" Eastwood frowned. Although George Wood shoving his leg was a thing in the past, his opinion toward Wood had not changed. "Don't worry. If you somehow win, I won't go back on my word."

If Wood really won, Eastwood would have to pay him $20,000 pounds. Even though he was a professional football player, that was no small sum.

Someone finally placed a bet on Moke staying, even if it was George Wood. The others were still betting on Moke leaving. The youths who had just joined the team hesitated for a while, but they eventually joined the bet.

Upon placing his bet, Bostock was squeezed out of the crowd. He found Colin Cogen rooted at the same spot. "Don't you want to go and play as well, Colin? This small bet won't matter. The coaches don't care anyway."

Colin shook his head. "I don't gamble." He looked at Moke who was still confronting the two coaches.

"Moke… This will turn out very unfortunate for him," Bostock commented as he sat beside Colin.

Everyone knew Moke looked down on Colin. Perhaps it was because both of them took up positions that were on opposite sides and were therefore often compared to each other. The coach was obviously more biased toward Colin, something Moke's ego could not tolerate.

"He's a stubborn and pitiful brat," Colin said.

Bostock looked at Colin with shock. This was the first time Colin had expressed negative views on Moke. Before this, whenever Moke picked on Colin during training, he always stayed silent.

"He's always thought that he was the best in his age group and he'd have a bright future after leaving the youth team. Hallucinating that he could be the hero who saved a critical match from the brink of defeat and rise to fame from that. Thinking that just because he could dribble pass five players, he could become a global superstar and represent England to clinch the Europe Cup and World Cup. Thinking that his teammates should work hard to not hold him back and strive to make space for him to perform.

"He should be the face of the team, the star player, and the media should flock to him like flies. There would be different girls visiting him every day, and fans would paint him out to be the greatest talent this team has ever seen. Every major football club would be at his door waving big checks and begging him to join their club. Head coaches would threaten the club with suicide if they even thought of selling him.

"When he retired, millions would send him off. A bronze statue would be built outside even before he passed. The most popular fan base would be named after him, and the best player award from England would be named after him as well…"

After Colin finish saying all of these in one breath, he turned to look at the surprised Bostock and grinned. "Those daydreams, I've had them too."

※※※

Twain took back what he said. "Very well, kid. I'm giving you this last chance to prove your capabilities. Prove to me that I made the wrong call. If you do that, I'll let you stay. Otherwise, go to where you're supposed to be."

"Yes, sir!" Moke excitedly nodded.

Twain turned to walk away, signaling the workers to move a mini-goal into the penalty area. "Place it here." He pointed at the penalty line on the right side. After that, he stepped on the football and signaled Moke over.

"Two-on-two in the penalty area," Twain said. "I don't care what method you use to escape the defender or how you shoot or pass to your teammate. If you're shooting, you need to score. If you're passing, you need to make sure your partner scores with your pass. This is how you'll win. Any questions?"

"Is there a goalkeeper?" Moke asked.

"What is the use of the goalkeeper with a goalmouth this small?" Twain replied.

"Can I pick my partner myself?" Moke asked.

"Of course, you can pick who you think is the best shooter," Twain said.

Moke looked at the small goalmouth. He pointed at Eastwood, who was still busy calculating the bets. "Freddy Eastwood. I want Eastwood as my partner."

Twain nodded. "Very well."

Kerslake turned to shout, "Freddy! Come over here!"

Eastwood ran over looking confused. "What's the matter, captain?"

Twain pointed at Moke. "Two versus two, and you are partners with him. Both of you from there." He pointed at the penalty line opposite the goalmouth. "Start attacking from there and up until there. He will lead the attack, and you will support him to open up the space. He could also choose not to pass you the ball and score on his own, just like an actual match."

Eastwood was stunned for a moment. He chuckled and said, "No problem, captain."

"Alright, your team is complete. Let me find opponents for you." Twain turned to scan the group gathered to watch the show. He told Kerslake, "Call George and Pepe over."

Kerslake was confused and did not move at all. "You're joking, Tony."

"I'm definitely not," Twain replied.

Kerslake hesitantly said, "But the both of them…"

Twain looked at Moke, who was beaming with confidence. "If he wants to stand firm in Nottingham Forest's first team, naturally he would need to challenge the best opponents. We are not a team who fights to stay in the league. If he can't win against George and Pepe, he can forget about winning against the strongest opponents in the world. Am I right, Moke?"

Moke nodded. "Yes, captain. Competing with weak opponents, I may as well participate in the reserve team matches or choose to be loaned to the English League."

Twain raised his thumb. "I like this character. Call them over."

Eastwood, upon hearing this exchange, looked uneasy.

※※※

Kerslake marched over to the players and waved. "George, Pepe, come out!"

After this, everyone knew what the head coach wanted to do. The crowd was in an uproar.

"Hey, George! You wouldn't purposely go easy just to win money right?"

"Pepe! Teach that kid some lessons! Stick closely to Freddy and don't give him any chance to shoot at all!"

Kerslake did not know whether to cry or laugh after looking at the crowd. Did they start betting on this matter on their own?

Pepe and George stepped out. Pepe looked at the team captain by his side and said, "I'm going all out, captain."

"Do you think I'm the type to go easy?" George questioned back.

Both of them followed Kerslake toward the few who were waiting on the other side.

Twain repeated the rules for Pepe and George. At the end, he emphasized, "This is not like training or a show. This is an official competition that determines if we are able to enter the champions cup in the next season! I hope both of you will bring out your fullest potential and attitude. If I were to see someone not putting in effort, you will know what will happen to you."

He exited the penalty area, making Kerslake the referee for this match.

"Come on, guys. Five rounds, three to win."

The group surrounded the field to watch this special contest.

※※※

Just like in an actual match, Eastwood started the ball from the middle circle and passed it to Moke. He advanced on his own to assist Moke in distracting Pepe.

However, Moke met George Wood upon advancing with the ball. When both of them were still 9 feet apart, Moke's torso suddenly jerked. The ball appeared behind his head and flew behind George Wood. It was a heel pick to dribble pass his opponent.

"Wow!" Some were whistling off field. That move was indeed elegant, but for the practical effects...

Wood turned on the spot and stretched both his arms, blocking Moke who was trying to run past him. He calmly passed the ball to Pepe, who received it from behind.

Kerslake's whistle rang out. "End of round one. George's team wins."

There was an uproar by the side of the field. They were definitely not celebrating over Moke's defeat but actually for their small winnings.

Moke bit his lips while staring at the calm team captain. Eastwood was crossing his arms by the side.

In the second round, Eastwood passed the ball to Moke as expected, who did his thing. This time, he decided to use his sudden start to change his direction to shake off George Wood, who was standing firmly on his spot. He was confident of his speed. Even if the team captain was as fast, turning would be a lot slower than breaking through on a straight line.

After he shook off a tackle, he successfully dribbled past Wood. The defender who needed to turn would definitely lose out. However, just when he was excitedly thinking to continuing to dribble pass Pepe, he was knocked by someone from behind, staggering the ball.

He was trying his best to hold his balance while protecting the ball. Taking a hit from such a fierce body made his efforts futile. He stumbled with the ball as he brought it out of the area. Pepe did not move at all from his initial spot.

"Foul!" Moke shouted.

"A reasonable tackle," Kerslake said. "This is the end of round two. George and Pepe win this round."

"Your body is too weak, little kid!" Pepe mockingly shouted.

Eastwood gently shook his head.

In the third round, the Romani passed to Moke yet again and ran forward, but he wasn't looking forward to this player to pass the ball to. Pepe clearly thought the same way. He left Eastwood alone and stayed behind George, waiting to attack with George from both front and back.

This time, one could tell Moke was furious from his eyes as he glared at Wood. There was no change in his dribbling speed.

Stepping onto the right and over the ball, Wood did not react. Stepping onto the left and over the ball, Wood did not react. Feigning with his right leg, Wood did not react. Right leg back, Wood still did not react. He was only following Moke's speed while retreating.

Moke lifted his right leg and continued feigning with the ball. Just as his foot landed, his heel hit the ball. The ball did not roll left. It went straight between George's legs.

The crowd by the side screamed. "This kid did a nutmeg on Wood!"

Wood was momentarily stunned. He did not expect himself to be nutmegged by his opponent. He soon saw his opponent speeding past him.

Pepe was panicking. He had to go forward to defend. He saw Wood fiercely turn and chase with giant steps. Just when he was about to be able to hold Moke, he used a hand to hold the kid's shoulder and sank his body while pulling his hand. Both legs slid toward the ball under Moke. It was a sliding tackle from behind.

Moke had no time to celebrate. He fell immediately and rolled a couple of rounds with the ball before stopping.

The crowd immediately turned silent. Everyone was thinking, The captain really did it, huh…

Moke was on fours. He turned to see George Wood still in his slide tackle stance. He could not believe what had just happened. Kerslake's whistle rang as he ran toward.

He showed a yellow card toward Wood. "It is a foul! This is the end of the third round, George and Pepe won!"

Moke furiously reacted. He jumped from the ground and pointed at Wood while shouting. "Why? He fouled! It was him who fouled! Why did he still win?"

"Because your attack ended," Kerslake said.

"But, he had to foul to stop me! Aren't fouls actions that aren't allowed by the rules?" Moke didn't want to accept the result. He knew it was a best of five. Losing this round meant he was about to be eliminated.

Looking at Moke's angry face, Kerslake couldn't link him and the person who was delighted most of the time.

The coach, who used to coach Moke back in the youth team, coldly asked, "Have you seen a football match with zero fouls throughout its 90 minutes?"

"This is unfair!" Moke hesitated for a moment before continuing to shout, "Using fouls to stop attacks is unfair! If he didn't foul, I would have broken through for sure!"

"Nonsense!" Kerslake started shouting too. "After Wood, there was still Pepe in front. If you had used your time to dribble pass Wood to dribble pass Pepe, Wood would have rushed back! You continue to dribble pass! Are you able to dribble pass 11 people on the field!"

"I only needed to enter the penalty area…" Moke knew he was losing the argument.

"Don't worry, they would have tackled you down before you enter the penalty area, just like what Wood did to you before!" Kerslake yelled.

"That was a foul," Moke said.

"Have you seen a football match without fouls?" Kerslake asked. "What did Tony say just now? Regard this as an official match! In an official match, your opponents would not be unmovable sticks for you to pass through! They are not robots without self-reflections!"

Moke was utterly stunned.

"The rule was to win three out five, Moke, and you lost. Return to the reserve team now!" Kerslake coldly commanded while pointing to the western side of the field.

The players who were watching felt bad. It was undeniable that the stunt he pulled on George was beautiful and awe-inspiring.

"David." Twain walked over and stopped his assistant. "Let him finish the last two rounds."

He turned to Moke. "I'll give you another chance, seeing how you almost succeeded in dribbling past George. I can give you another chance. You can stay if you win just one round. Right now, you are left with two rounds." He raised two fingers.

Kerslake turned to look at Twain. He did not, in the least, think this was Twain giving Moke a second chance. Rather, it seemed to him that Twain wanted to utterly destroy Moke's faith. Based on Moke's performance, there was almost no chance of him winning the next round.

Moke quietly picked up the ball and walked back to the starting point. Eastwood, who was essentially a spectator, sighed and shook his head as he followed.

In the fourth run, Moke decided to charge forward past Wood. This time, Wood did not even have to turn to determine Moke's position to hold him in place. Moke fell over as the ball was intercepted.

There was no discussion or whispering. All the players were stunned. Honestly, everyone knew that Moke was average and had no chance of winning against Wood. What stunned them was that Moke was still charging forward to face Wood, who did not give any chances even against a weaker opponent. A lot of them thought that, if they were in Moke's shoes, despair would be all they felt.

Pepe, upon looking at Wood competing with Moke, shrugged and turned to make a wry face toward his teammates. What kind of a two-versus-two match is this? This is just George Wood challenging Adriano Moke on his own. We were just unlucky spectators...

※※※

In the fifth round, Moke continued to challenge Wood on his own. Pepe came over to prepare for the opportunity to charge forward once Wood had his back turned on him. Although he knew the odds were small, he could not let Wood always be the main lead. As for Eastwood? He could just have his way.

This time, Moke did not charge from the front. He instead dribbled the ball on the side lane, keeping Wood within the inner line and the ball running on the outside. He was using his body as a wall to block Wood's tackles and the possibility of a slide tackle. Hence, even if Wood slid, he could pre-emptively dodge it with a flick of the ball.

After running for a while, he made a feign for a sudden cut. Wood bought it and lost his footing as Moke dribbled forward. However, how could it be so easy to shake off Wood? Moke was not as naive as before. He dribbled a distance from Wood and adjusted his footing. He lifted his foot to pass.

Seeing how the ball was going to cross over, he instead lifted a foot from behind and tapped the ball with his heel, causing the ball to change direction and fly out of the area. The group of spectators finally let out the breath they had been holding.

George Wood rushed back at the most critical moment. In the five encounters, he did not allow his opponent to escape his defending area once. Regardless of his measures, he still won.

Upon seeing how the ball suddenly changed direction and flew out, Moke's legs became wobbly as he knelt onto the ground. His partner, Eastwood, ran over and said, "Want to hear my thoughts, kid? The last ball was unfortunate."

He shrugged while walking away. Wood stood up, wiped the grass off his butt, and also walked away without exchanging words with Moke at all. Two silhouettes appeared in front of him. Moke raised his head to see Kerslake and Twain.

"Moke, you lost." Kerslake commented without any expression.

"Yes, I know, coach…" Moke softly spoke while holding his head low.

"You know you lost, but do you know how you lost?" Twain asked.

"I shouldn't have done this alone," Moke said.

"What kind of reason is that?" Twain snorted.

"Sorry, boss. I'm not sure…" Moke was at a loss.

Twain lifted his leg and stomped onto the firm ground. "Be realistic, kid. This way, you'll be able to walk further." He raised his arm to pat Moke. "Your skills are not bad, so maintain them. Now, report to the reserve team. If you want to be loaned out for competitions, then go and apply."

After saying his piece, he also turned to walk away.

"Go back and carefully reflect, Moke. Hopefully, these five rounds today will help you in your road in the future." Kerslake finally smiled. "You have talent, but football is not a sport you can play with just talent."

Moke opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but he was interrupted by Twain's voice. Both parties were distracted by what happened on the other side.

"Why are you all in a daze? Go and start training! The show has ended! All of you go back! We have wasted too much time… Freddy! What are you doing!"

"Oh, Boss!"

※※※

By the time Moke looked away, Kerslake had already left. He was standing on the field alone, looking at that bunch of first team players starting their training.

Chris Cohen, whom he had always looked down on, was running slowly among the team with his head down. Before this summer, he was only a small shrimp in the reserve team who seemed to have no future. Now, he was a first team player, and Moke would have to take his place on the reserve team.