They were called in groups again. The sun was now above them, bright but not harsh. Russell adjusted his kit, his socks pulled up to just below his knees, the number 17 still visible on the back. His body felt warm, focused. No signs of fatigue. But his mind, that was loud.
He stood near the side of the pitch, waiting with the others. A staff member walked in with a clipboard and a folded sheet of paper in hand. When he reached the centre, he raised his voice.
"Alright, listen up. We have arranged two full teams. Eleven versus eleven. We will rotate players if needed. These are not based on your preferred positions. They are based on assessment needs. If you are not where you like to be, adapt. That is part of the test."
Russell straightened his back.
The staff member unfolded the sheet and began reading.
TEAM A (4=4-2)
GK - Callum Rivers
RB - Sean Umar
CB - Freddie Moore
CB - Nathaniel Burns
LB - Leo Graham
RM - Russell Hayes
CM - Jamie Ross
CM - Tyrone Mace
LM - Daniel Wells
ST - Malik John
ST - Omar Adeyemi
TEAM B (4-3-3)
GK - Hayden Shaw
RB - Niko Ajayi
CB - Andre Maxwell
CB - Cameron O'Neill
LB - Josh Lin
CDM - Emmanuel Obasi
CM - Luca Greaves
CM - Keiran Holt
RW - Zayne Foster
CF - Alexis Butcher (False 9)
LW - Felix Grant
Russell blinked at the sheet. Right midfield. Not his usual spot. Not where he was most dangerous. On the left, he could cut in. Drive inside. Play on his stronger foot. But on the right?
No complaints. No excuses.
He jogged over to Team A's half, falling into line beside the other boys. A staff member handed out bibs. Russell pulled the red one over his head and joined the rest near the touchline.
One of the coaches walked over. "You will play the first half. We will make changes at the break. No set time, just watch the referee."
Russell nodded.
The match began within minutes.
Team A kicked off.
Russell started wide on the right. He stayed disciplined for the first few possessions, tracking back on defense, tucking inside when needed. The ball did not come to him at first. The midfield worked it through the center. He stayed patient.
Then, about six minutes in, the left back played a diagonal ball across the field. It bounced once, and Russell took it on the second touch, cushioning it cleanly. The left back from Team B came rushing out. Russell shifted his body, touched the ball down the line, accelerated past him.
Go. Be direct.
He broke into space, head up. The two Team A strikers were making runs. Russell whipped the ball low across the box. It skipped past one defender, Omar Adeyemi met it clean and swept it in.
"Great ball, seventeen" one of the coaches shouted.
Russell jogged back into position, not smiling. Just focused. That was good. But it could not be the only moment.
The game flowed fast. Alexis, as the false nine for Team B, kept dropping deep, dragging the center backs with him. Russell noticed it. It created space in behind. He kept scanning the field during pauses.
On the next transition, Russell received the ball again, this time in his own half. He dropped a shoulder and beat his man with a quick step-over, then slid a pass down the line for the overlapping right back. Simple. Effective. He did not try anything extra. He did not need to.
Midway through the half, Team B started to grow into the match. Alexis got on the ball, linked play, and shifted the tempo. Russell had to track back more, helping his fullback double up on Felix, Team B's left winger.
It was tiring. But he kept going. When his legs started to complain, he tuned it out.
Keep showing them you can think. That you can work.
He got forward again a few minutes later. Malik John held the ball up well and rolled it to Russell. A defender closed in fast. Russell chopped it back with his right foot, faked a cross, then darted inside before releasing a grounded pass across the edge of the box. His teammate scuffed the shot wide.
Still, another coach made a note.
The ball did not always reach him. The game did not revolve around him. But when it did, he made it count.
Then, near the end of the half, with the match still balanced, Russell saw his number raised on the substitute board.
Seventeen. Off.
He jogged to the touchline, heart pounding, chest damp with sweat. The coach gave him a nod. "Good half."
Russell did not respond.
He sat down quietly, sipping water, breathing slowly.
But his thoughts started moving again.
Why sub me now?
Was I not involved enough?
Did I not take enough risks?
Was I just okay?
No one said anything to him. The game continued. He watched from the sideline, arms folded, eyes fixed.
Behind him, two scouts were speaking.
"That kid on the right wing, Russell, yeah" one asked.
"Yeah. Seventeen."
"He is clean. Everything simple, sharp. Can beat a man, can pick a pass. Tracks back, too."
"Good decisions. Reads space. Probably better off the left, but he did not force anything."
"You taking notes?"
"Already wrote him down. He is off because they have seen what they need to see."
Russell did not hear it. He just sat there, staring at the pitch. Inside his head, everything twisted.
Did I do enough? Was I just another trialist?
What if that was it?
He was not tired. He was not injured. He just, was not in the game anymore.
The final whistle had not blown yet. But his part was over.
And all he could do now was wait... and wonder.
A/N: Did a fair bit of research for this trial thingy, but if there's anything off about it, I'm very, very open to corrections and criticism.