Against All Odds: Legacy Of A Football King
Chapter 190: Training Session 3

Chapter 190: Training Session 3

Benjamin smirked at Adam’s words and jogged back toward the group as the next set of attackers stepped up.

The drill had brought out the competitive fire in everyone, each player eager to prove themselves.

Henriksen took his turn, facing off against Lam, Haye, and Marcellis. He was methodical in his approach, using small, precise touches to shift the ball away from danger.

His composure in tight spaces allowed him to slip past the first two defenders, but Lam was ready.

Timing his challenge perfectly, Marcellis stepped in with a strong but clean tackle, poking the ball away just as Henriksen looked to accelerate into the final phase.

"Excellent defending from Marcellis!" Martin Haar called out. "That’s how you stay disciplined—no unnecessary lunges, just good positioning."

The defenders rotated once more, and this time, it was Beerens who took his position. His strength was in his blistering pace, and he knew it.

The moment the whistle blew, he pushed the ball forward aggressively, looking to beat the defenders in a footrace.

Haye barely had time to react before Beerens ghosted past him. Lam tried to close him down, but a sharp cut inside sent him the wrong way.

Only Marcellis remained, and he braced himself, knowing Beerens was coming at full speed.

Beerens feigned right, then dropped his shoulder left, bursting through. The final step was clinical—a quick glance at Alvarado’s position, and then a confident strike into the bottom corner.

"No chance stopping that one," the assistant coach muttered, taking the role of a commentator. "Once Beerens gets up to speed, it’s almost impossible to catch him."

The session continued with each player bringing their own approach. Some relied on raw power, others on agility, while a few, like Overtoom, played with calculated finesse, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Gertjan Verbeek with his arms folded, watched closely from the sideline. He wasn’t just looking at individual performances—he was also analyzing their decision-making, adaptability, and the players’ ability to read the game under pressure.

As the drill neared its final set, Altidore nudged Benjamin with a grin. "You sure you don’t want another go? Can’t have your last one being too easy."

Benjamin rolled his eyes but chuckled. "Nah, I’ll let you take the spotlight this time."

Altidore smirked, stepping up for his final attempt. As the whistle blew, he immediately used his body to shield the ball, absorbing the pressure from the defenders before spinning away with a powerful turn.

The team watched with interest. Every rep mattered. Every moment on the training ground was an opportunity to sharpen their edge.

With the final strikes hitting the net and the A & D drill coming to an end, Gertjan Verbeek finally called them in.

"Good work, everyone" he said, his tone firm yet approving. "Intensity was high, and that’s what we need. We’ll go into tactical drills next, but keep this energy. The season isn’t won in matches—it’s won in training."

The players nodded, some still catching their breath, others already mentally preparing for what was to come.

The players gathered near the center of the pitch, sweat glistening on their foreheads as they caught their breath.

Gertjan Verbeek, standing with his arms crossed, scanned the group before nodding toward one of his assistants, who stepped forward holding a bag of training bibs.

"Red bibs to my left, blue bibs to my right," the assistant called out, tossing them randomly into the crowd. The players caught them midair, quickly pulling them over their heads.

Benjamin glanced down at his blue bib, then looked around at his teammates. Adam, Altidore, Berghuis, Henriksen, Marcellis, and Alvarado had also been assigned blue.

On the other side, Martens, Gudmundsson, Overtoom, Beerens, Gorter, Lam, and Yves De Winter formed the red team.

Gertjan Verbeek clapped his hands once, gathering their attention. "We’re running a half-pitch tactical scrimmage. Thirty-five minutes. No stoppages. This isn’t just about scoring—pay attention to your movement off the ball, build-up play, pressing, and transitions. I want control, not chaos."

The players nodded in understanding. There was no need for further instruction. The game itself would reveal what Gertjan Verbeek wanted from them.

Yves De Winter placed the ball at his feet inside the penalty box, signaling the start. The red team had possession, and the blue team immediately pressed forward.

Gorter received a short pass from De Winter but barely had time to settle before Altidore closed in.

Instead of forcing a risky pass, Gorter played it simple, shifting the ball to Lam, who quickly found Martens in midfield.

"That’s it," one of the assistant coaches murmured from the sideline. "Clean, composed build-up. That’s exactly what we want."

But the blue team wasn’t giving them space. Berghuis pressed Martens immediately, forcing him to play the ball back under pressure. The tempo was high.

Gudmundsson dropped deep to receive, but Marcellis read it well, stepping forward to intercept.

A sharp touch and a quick pass later, and Henriksen had the ball at his feet, driving forward.

"Now, let’s see what they do," The coaches muttered, their eyes locked on the movement unfolding.

Henriksen didn’t rush. He carried the ball with confidence, scanning his options. Overtoom moved to close him down, but a simple turn sent him the wrong way.

Benjamin peeled off toward the left flank, signaling for the pass. Henriksen saw it and delivered—a crisp, well-weighted ball rolling into Benjamin’s stride.

"Good movement," Gertjan Verbeek muttered under his breath.

Benjamin took one touch to control and another to push it forward. Lam came across, blocking his path. Instead of trying to beat him outright, Benjamin slowed, feinting a cut inside.

Lam hesitated, and that was all Benjamin needed.

A sudden burst forward, a quick shift onto his left, and Lam was left chasing.

Benjamin lifted his head—Altidore was already making his run into the makeshift box.

The cross came in fast and low.

"That’s a good delivery," the assistant coach noted.

Altidore lunged forward, but Gorter reacted just in time, clearing it for a corner. The red team let out a breath of relief, while the blue team quickly repositioned for the set piece.

Berghuis jogged over to take it. He adjusted his socks, letting the players get into position before raising his hand.

He took a deep breath.

The ball curled in beautifully, dipping just past the first defender. Henriksen rose above the rest, meeting it with a powerful header.

Yves De Winter was ready.

A lightning-fast reaction, and a strong hand pushed the ball over the bar.

"That’s a hell of a save," one of the coaches called out.

The red team regrouped, while the blue team lined up for another corner. The intensity never dropped. Every pass, every movement, every decision was made with intent.

The scrimmage continued with relentless energy. The red team soon found their rhythm, building their attacks through Martens and Overtoom.

The blue team countered with quick transitions, using Benjamin and Henriksen as their creative outlets.

Gertjan Verbeek watched it all unfold, his sharp eyes taking in every detail. The mistakes were noted and the smart plays were silently acknowledged. He was watching how they fit together.