Saturday, September 24, 2022

St. George's Park

9:15 AM

The bus pulled into St. George's Park just after nine in the morning, and the England squad filed off in scattered groups while fatigue from the previous night's match sat heavy in their legs, and Demien grabbed his kit bag from the storage compartment before following his teammates toward the dormitory building where recovery protocol would begin within the hour.

The post-match atmosphere carried that particular quality of professional routine rather than celebration, and nobody spoke about the Italy victory with excessive pride because three-nil wins in friendlies were expected outcomes rather than achievements worth analyzing, and as Demien climbed the stairs toward Room 214 he recognized that last night's debut had already become historical fact rather than current conversation.

Owen Blake was already unpacking when Demien entered, and his roommate glanced up briefly before returning his attention to organizing his training gear, and the silence between them felt comfortable rather than awkward because neither felt obligated to fill space with unnecessary words.

"Recovery session at eleven," Owen said eventually, and his tone carried the same practical energy he'd shown throughout the camp. "Ice baths and compression after. Then we're free until team meeting at six."

"Team meeting?" Demien asked, and Owen nodded while pulling compression tights from his bag.

"Germany prep. Tuesday away. Carsley wants everyone together tonight to go over the tactical approach before we start training tomorrow."

Demien processed the timeline quickly—Saturday recovery, Sunday and Monday training, Tuesday match—and the short turnaround meant there'd be minimal time for extended position work or tactical adjustments, and he'd either be ready for the Germany match based on what he'd already shown, or he wouldn't be.

"Got it," Demien replied, and he dropped his bag on his bed before pulling out his phone to check messages he'd ignored during the bus ride.

Three texts from his mother asking about the match, two from Marco congratulating him on earning his first cap, one from Luca confirming breakfast plans for tomorrow morning before the Italian squad flew back to their respective clubs, and one from Sophia that had arrived twenty minutes ago.

Sophia: Hope the ride back wasn't too bad. Still want to talk properly when you have time. No rush.

Demien stared at the message for a moment before typing a response that felt honest without overcommitting.

Demien: Yeah. Maybe next week when I'm back in Bergamo. Things are busy here with Germany on Tuesday.

He sent it and set the phone face-down on the nightstand, and the action felt deliberate because thinking too much about Sophia while still processing his debut and preparing for another international match would split his focus in ways that wouldn't help anyone.

11:00 AM - Recovery Session

The recovery room was modern and clinical with massage tables arranged in rows, ice bath stations positioned near the far wall, and compression therapy machines sitting ready for use, and the England physio staff moved between players with practiced efficiency while monitoring heart rates and checking for any lingering muscle tightness from last night's ninety minutes.

Demien climbed into one of the ice baths and felt the shock of cold water hit his legs immediately, and his breath caught involuntarily while his body adjusted to the temperature that hovered just above freezing, and beside him Harvey Keane grimaced as he lowered himself into his own bath.

"Never gets easier," Harvey muttered, and his accent carried Brighton's coastal influence. "Feels like your legs are being stabbed."

"Yeah," Demien agreed simply, and he forced himself to sit deeper until the water reached his waist.

They stayed submerged for twelve minutes while the physio monitored their times, and when Demien finally climbed out his legs felt simultaneously numb and lighter, and he wrapped a towel around his waist before moving to the compression therapy stations where mechanical sleeves would massage his muscles back to normal function.

The session ended just after noon, and players dispersed toward lunch or their rooms for rest, and Demien grabbed a meal from the dining hall—grilled chicken, brown rice, steamed vegetables—before returning to Room 214 where he ate alone while Owen attended a video analysis session with the defensive unit.

His phone buzzed once.

Sophia: That works. Focus on your football. We'll figure out the rest after.

He read it twice before setting the phone down without responding, and the lack of pressure in her message felt better than forced urgency, and he finished his meal before lying back on his bed and letting exhaustion pull him toward sleep that came easily despite the afternoon light filtering through the curtains.

6:00 PM - Team Meeting

The squad gathered in the main briefing room as evening settled over St. George's Park, and Lee Carsley stood at the front with his laptop connected to the projector while tactical diagrams filled the screen behind him, and the atmosphere carried focused energy because Tuesday's match was only three days away and preparation time was compressed.

"Germany away," Carsley began, and his voice carried the same measured authority it always did. "Different challenge than Italy. They'll press higher, transition faster, and punish mistakes more ruthlessly. We'll need to be sharper in possession and more disciplined defensively."

The screen changed to show Germany's expected 4-2-3-1 formation with player names filling each position, and Carsley spent twenty minutes breaking down their pressing triggers, their wide players' tendencies to cut inside, and the space their aggressive fullbacks left when they pushed forward.

"We have two training days," Carsley continued, and his eyes scanned the room. "Sunday we'll focus on tactical shape and set pieces. Monday we'll run through match situations and finalize the gameplan. Short turnaround means we keep things simple and execute what we know works."

He clicked to the next slide showing England's expected shape.

"Same formation as Italy. Four-two-three-one. We'll make personnel decisions based on Sunday's session, but the tactical approach stays consistent—control possession in our half, stretch them with width, exploit transitions when they commit numbers forward."

Demien's attention sharpened because "personnel decisions based on Sunday's session" meant selection wasn't decided yet, and tomorrow's training would matter more than usual given the compressed timeline.

"Questions?" Carsley asked, and silence answered him. "Good. Recovery continues tonight. Light gym work if you need it, but prioritize rest. Sunday we train at ten. Be ready to work."

The meeting ended without ceremony, and players dispersed toward dinner or their rooms, and Demien walked alongside Owen toward the dining hall while processing what the short preparation window meant—less time to prove himself in an unfamiliar position, but also less time for the coaching staff to make major tactical adjustments, which meant they'd likely stick with players they trusted in roles they'd been training all camp.

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