Chapter 129: Momentum in the Making

Chapter 129: Momentum in the Making Chapter 129: Momentum in the Making Sunday, August 22, 2010 Sunday morning broke gently after the hard-fought win over Preston. At Broadfield Stadium, there was a quiet sense of hope in the air. The training pitches were still slick from Saturday’s rain, and the sharp scent of wet grass mixed with the faint smell of bonfires in the distance. Niels pulled into the training ground, his pickup’s engine letting out a low grumble as he parked near the gate. The quiet was broken only by the soft hum of a nearby coffee cart. He felt a flicker of relief from the win still lingering in his chest but Notts County away was already on his mind. It was a chance to build momentum, or slip back into uncertainty. The media reaction was a mixed bag. On Sunday, a radio pundit didn’t hold back: "Crawley’s win was lucky just papering over the cracks. They’re not fooling anyone in League One." The jab was sharp, and it took some of the shine off the victory. But in Monday’s local paper, a Crawley journalist pushed back: "One bad week doesn’t define a team. League One isn’t won in August." It wasn’t a full-blown defense, but it was something, a small nod to Niels’s vision. He could feel the squad’s hunger sharpening again, ready to prove the doubters wrong. He held a worn clipboard, its pages crammed with notes, details on Notts County’s pacey wingers, and how Pogba and Freeman would need to control the tempo. Sunday’s rest day was anything but restful. In the team lodge, the radio buzzed in the background as players lounged on couches, nursing coffees and scrolling through their phones. A pundit’s voice cut through: "Lucky win, just papering over the cracks." Thiago groaned and chucked a cushion at the radio. "Mate, they’re chatting rubbish. We earned that." Across the room, Max smirked as he flipped through the local paper. "This guy gets it," he said, tapping the columnist’s defense. "We’re just getting started." Niels, passing through, caught the exchange and paused. "Let them talk," he said calmly. "We answer on the pitch." In the corner, Pogba gave a slight nod, his eyes sharper than they’d been all week, the win’s energy still lingering. Freeman, still reading the journalist’s column, murmured, "Notts County next. Let’s keep it going." The room settled into a quiet resolve. The media noise wasn’t a distraction anymore, it was more like fuel. Monday’s training crackled with new intensity. Under a gray sky, the squad moved with purpose, passes sharper, calls louder, the chemistry tighter. Niels watched from the sidelines, clipboard under his arm, a faint nod slipping through his usual scowl. The win over Preston had sparked something small, but real. During a rondo drill, Pogba took charge, his voice booming as he directed traffic, more commanding than he’d been in weeks. "Nate, move! Dev, quicker!" he shouted, cutting through the circle with long strides, intercepting passes with a grin. Thiago whooped, "There he is, Paul!" Laughter rippled through the group, a rare moment of lightness breaking through the tension. Fresh off getting his minutes against Preston, Kieron hit training with relentless drive. His tackles were sharp but disciplined, his energy unmistakable. In a small-sided game, he won the ball clean off Max and rifled a shot that clattered the crossbar. Thomas, watching from the sideline, clapped hard. "That’s it, Kieron! That’s the hunger we need!" Kieron’s face lit up, a rare smile breaking through. The fire he’d been carrying was finally getting noticed. "Cheers, Thomas," he said, voice steady but proud. After a passing drill, Niels pulled Freeman aside, his voice firm but encouraging. "You were sharp against Preston finding pockets, linking play. Keep it up. Be the spark." Freeman nodded, his quiet intensity saying more than words. Nearby, as Dev stretched, he caught Thiago’s eye and grinned. "You gonna score another screamer at Notts?" Thiago laughed. "Only if you keep up, bruh!" The banter flowed easily. The rhythm of the squad was starting to hum. Tuesday’s team meeting took place in the cramped room of the training complex. The projector hummed as clips of Notts County’s recent games flickered across the screen. The squad Max, Pogba, Freeman, Thiago, Dev, Nate, and the rest sat quietly, their faces a mix of focus and determination. Niels stood at the front, his voice calm but full of purpose. "This isn’t about redemption. It’s about building a foundation. We showed against Preston what we can be, compact, hungry, and united. Now, it’s time to build on that." He paused the clip, pointing to Notts County’s wingers cutting inside. "They’re quick and looking to stretch us. Liam, Harry, Reece, stay disciplined. Midfield, keep it tight, Pogba, Nate, you two set the tempo. Freeman, find the gaps. Max, Thiago, Dev, exploit their high line." The squad nodded, eyes fixed on the screen as the plan sank in. Max leaned forward, voice steady. "We’ve got this, lads. Let’s take it to ’em." Pogba, more vocal now, added, "No gaps this time. We move as one." At the back, Kieron clenched his fists, his hunger clear, ready to make his mark. The room buzzed with shared resolve, the fog of the past weeks lifting, if only a little. Niels switched off the projector and looked around the room. "Remember, confidence comes from control. Stay sharp, communicate, and trust each other. Notts County will test us, but they won’t break us." The squad rose, the weight of the meeting settling but replaced by a quiet determination. As they filed out, Thiago caught Kieron’s eye and nodded. "This is our moment." Kieron’s rare smile returned. "Let’s make it count." Outside, the drizzle had stopped, leaving the air fresh and expectant, just like the team. After training, Niels stopped by a local café, the air rich with the smell of fresh bread and coffee. A group of fans spotted him, their faces lighting up. "That win, Niels! That’s our Crawley!" one called out, giving his shoulder a hearty clap. Nearby, a grizzled supporter in a worn scarf handed him the local paper, the journalist’s defense circled in pen. "Keep going, mate. We’re with you." Niels smiled a rare, genuine warmth breaking through. "Cheers. We’re just getting started." Walking back to the training ground, Niels felt the weight of those words settle in. The support was real, but so was the challenge ahead. Notts County wasn’t just another game, it was a test of everything they’d built so far. Inside the locker room, the squad was already buzzing, preparing for the evening session. Niels called out as he entered, "Let’s keep that fire alive. Tomorrow, we show them who we are." Freeman looked up from tying his boots. "No turning back now." Pogba cracked his knuckles, a grin spreading. "Time to put the talk to the test." The room filled with energy, the team ready to face whatever came next. Back at the training ground, Emma caught up with him, her eyes bright. "The town’s buzzing, Niels. You’re giving them something to believe in." She handed him a stack of fan letters some scrawled by kids, others from lifelong supporters, all urging the team on. Niels tucked them into his bag, the words fueling his drive. "Let’s give ’em more, Emma," he said, voice low but determined. The week closed with a growing fire, the squad’s rhythm clicking, their unity strengthening. As Niels walked off the pitch Tuesday, clipboard tucked under his arm, his mind stayed sharp, focused on Notts County’s threats and the chance to build on Preston’s spark. The sky hung heavy with clouds, but the air felt lighter, charged with possibility. That evening, as the stadium lights flickered on and the town settled into quiet anticipation, Niels stood by the window of the training complex. He watched the empty pitch, imagining the battle to come. The doubts from the pundits, the pressure from past results, they all felt distant now. This was more than a game. It was a statement. He thought of the squad, their hunger, their fight, their belief. Tomorrow, they would step onto that field not just as individuals, but as a team ready to write their own story. With a deep breath, Niels turned away from the window, his resolve stronger than ever. "Let’s finish what we started."