Cafeteria

11:15 AM

Demien and Owen sat at a table near the windows with mugs of tea steaming in front of them, and the cafeteria was quiet except for a few other players scattered throughout the space doing the same thing—waiting for the hours to pass until training began—and the atmosphere carried that pre-session calm where everyone conserved energy.

Demien's phone buzzed against the table and he glanced at the screen to see a message from Marco, and when he opened it the preview made him sit forward slightly as his heart rate increased with anticipation.

Demien - Good news from Adidas. The €20,000 signing bonus just processed—should hit your account today. Also confirming you received the initial product shipment (boots, training gear)? They want to schedule your first Shape the Game campaign shoot for late September after the international break. Let me know. - Marco

He read it twice while processing the numbers, and even though he'd signed the contract eleven days ago seeing the signing bonus confirmation still felt surreal—twenty thousand euros just for signing the deal, with the quarterly base salary payments starting in October—and the reality of professional sponsorship money was still sinking in.

A second message arrived while he was still staring at the first, this one from his bank with a notification that made everything feel more real.

Transaction: ADIDAS AG - €20,000.00 CREDIT - Signing Bonus

Demien locked his phone and set it face-down on the table while trying to compose himself, though the weight of the financial transformation happening in his life felt impossible to fully comprehend, and when he looked up Owen was watching him with a slight smile and raised eyebrows.

"Good news?"

"Just sponsor payment came through," Demien said while trying to sound casual though his voice betrayed some excitement. "Still feels weird seeing that kind of money hit the account."

Owen's expression shifted to curiosity as he pulled out his own phone and opened Instagram, and his fingers moved quickly as he navigated to what appeared to be a post before turning the screen toward Demien with a knowing grin.

"Saw this earlier. They tagged you."

Demien took Owen's phone and his eyes widened slightly as he saw the post from @adidasfootball—his photo in Atalanta training gear wearing the three stripes, and the caption read: "Welcome to the family, @demienwalter. The next generation starts now. 🔥 #ShapeTheGame #Adidas"

The post had hundreds of thousands of likes already and the comments section was flooded with fire emojis and welcome messages from fans, and seeing his name tagged by a brand with 36 million followers made the whole arrangement feel more real than any contract signature had.

"Didn't know they'd posted that," Demien said while handing the phone back, and his voice carried genuine surprise mixed with satisfaction.

"Yeah, went up yesterday I think," Owen replied while pocketing his phone. "Big announcement. That's how you know it's official—when the brand posts you to millions of followers."

"Adidas, then," Owen confirmed as if the Instagram post had answered his earlier question.

Owen nodded knowingly, and his expression suggested he'd been through similar situations before, and when he spoke his tone carried the wisdom of experience.

"Gets easier to process after a few payments. First couple times though, it's hard not to look proper buzzing when you see those numbers."

Demien laughed despite himself as the tension broke, and he picked up his tea while Owen checked his own phone for messages, and the moment of shared understanding helped ease some of the nervous energy that had been building.

The cafeteria gradually filled as lunch service approached, and by noon the space was busy with players loading plates with the pre-training meal—grilled chicken, rice, steamed vegetables, fruit—all designed to fuel afternoon sessions without sitting heavy, and the conversations around them shifted from casual topics to football as game day approached.

Training Pitch 1

1:55 PM

The squad gathered on Training Pitch 1 five minutes before the scheduled start as players in full England training kit formed loose groups while stretching or jogging lightly to activate muscles, and the September air felt cooler than Bergamo's had been though the overcast sky suggested rain might arrive later.

Demien stood near Owen and Harvey going through his warm-up routine—leg swings, arm circles, light dynamic stretches—and as he moved through each exercise his body responded better than it had this morning though the fatigue was still present beneath the surface.

At exactly two PM, Carsley's whistle cut across the pitch sharp and commanding, and the sound carried authority that made everyone stop their individual warm-ups immediately.

"Gather up! Let's go!"

The squad formed a circle around the coaching staff, and Carsley's assistant—a younger coach named Simon who'd been introduced yesterday—stepped forward holding a tactical board while scanning the group with focused eyes.

"Before we start," Simon began, and his voice was clear and direct as he addressed the assembled players. "Need to have a word with a few of you about positions this week."

His eyes found Demien in the group, and he gestured for him to step forward along with two other players, and as Demien moved toward the center where Simon waited his stomach tightened slightly though he kept his expression neutral while the rest of the squad watched.

"Walter," Simon said, and his tone was professional without being harsh though the directness was unmistakable. "We know you play central midfield for Atalanta. That's your natural position, and you've done well there. But for this camp, we need you on the left wing."

The words took a moment to process fully because Demien hadn't played winger since youth football, and his mind immediately started calculating what that meant for his role in the team while trying to understand the tactical reasoning behind the decision.

"Inverted profile," Simon continued while apparently reading Demien's confusion on his face. "You'll cut inside onto your right foot, operate in the half-spaces, link with the striker and the ten. We want to see your versatility and your technical quality in different positions."

Demien nodded because what else could he do, though internally he was already worrying about how this would affect his chances of playing, and the unfamiliar role added another layer of difficulty to an already challenging situation.

"Questions?"

"No, coach. I understand."

"Good. We'll work on it this week. Don't overthink it—just play your game in a different area of the pitch."

Simon dismissed him back to the group and spoke briefly with the other two players about their positional adjustments, and when the conversation ended the coaching staff organized the squad into groups for the session while players processed the information.

The warm-up consisted of dynamic stretching and activation drills, and by two-twenty the real work began as they moved into tactical shape work, and the intensity increased immediately as Carsley's voice carried instructions across the pitch.

2:25 PM - 4:30 PM | Tactical Training

England's structure became immediately apparent as soon as they moved into eleven-versus-eleven shape—rigid and disciplined with every player's positioning predetermined by the system rather than fluid like Atalanta's approach—and the difference was stark enough that Demien felt disoriented within the first minute.

Demien lined up on the left wing in the second group—those competing for starting spots—and the instructions came fast from Simon who stood on the touchline shouting corrections while watching every movement with critical eyes.

"Wingers stay wide until the ball enters the final third! Don't drift inside too early!"

The first attacking sequence broke down within thirty seconds because Demien had instinctively moved centrally to offer a passing option, and his movement pulled the left-back out of position which created a gap that the opposition exploited immediately, and Simon's whistle stopped play before the attack could develop.

"WALTER! STAY WIDE!" Simon's voice cut across the pitch sharp with frustration. "You're a winger now, not a midfielder! Hold your width until the ball progresses!"

Demien raised a hand in acknowledgment and jogged back into position, though frustration was already building because his natural instincts were completely wrong for this role, and fighting against seventeen years of positional habits felt like trying to write with his non-dominant hand.

The next sequence went slightly better—he stayed wide as the ball circulated through midfield, and when it finally reached him on the touchline his first touch controlled it cleanly before he attempted to drive inside—though the defender had read his intention and stepped across to cut off the angle, and Demien's attempted dribble resulted in the ball being poked away for a throw-in.

On the opposite flank, Reece Darlow received in a similar position and his execution was completely different—explosive acceleration combined with a sharp change of direction, and he was past his marker before the defender could react—and the comparison was obvious to everyone watching as Reece delivered a dangerous cross that forced a save.

The comparison was obvious to everyone watching, and Demien could feel eyes on him as the session continued.

Kayden Muir dominated the central zones with the kind of ease that came from playing this position his entire career, and his movement between the lines created space for others while his passing range kept the opposition guessing, and every touch looked effortless in a way that highlighted the gap between experience and adaptation.

Jamal Whitmore pressed like a machine in midfield—reading passing lanes with supernatural timing, closing space aggressively, winning the ball back within seconds of losing possession—and his intensity set the tempo for everyone around him while making the game look simple through sheer work rate.

Demien tried to match the energy though his positioning kept putting him in the wrong places, and by the time Simon blew his whistle for a water break at three-fifteen the gap between established players and newcomers felt vast, and the frustration was mounting with each mistake.

"Right, listen up!" Carsley called as players grabbed water bottles and formed a loose circle. "Defensive transition work now. When we lose the ball, immediate counter-press for five seconds. If we don't win it back, drop into shape. Wingers—you track their fullbacks immediately. No exceptions."

The session restarted with emphasis on what happened when possession changed hands, and this proved even more difficult for Demien because tracking back required sprint after sprint that his tired legs protested against, and each recovery run felt slower than the one before as fatigue accumulated.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.