Chapter 12: I Give You Two Choices
Sam Parker realized something was wrong—
Very wrong.
Team training had already begun.
Players were grouped.
Drills were organized.
Intensity was rising.
And yet—
He was alone.
At first, he thought it was temporary.
A short punishment.
Something symbolic.
But as the sessions progressed…
As the squads were divided…
As instructions were given…
Sam Parker was still excluded.
That was when it hit him.
His position in the team—
Was nowhere near what he had imagined.
"Damn it…"
He clenched his fists slightly.
Are they seriously planning to use those amateur players?
That Vardy? That Austin?
Sam wasn't stupid.
He knew exactly how football worked.
The head coach—
Had absolute authority.
If Joshua Smith truly decided not to use him…
Then no matter what he did—
He would never play.
And that—
Was unacceptable.
Sam needed games.
Needed performances.
Needed exposure.
Only then could he attract other clubs.
He glanced down at the training sheet in his hand.
Then his face darkened.
Aerobic training: 60 minutes × 6 sets
"…What the hell…"
Weight room training
"…You've got to be kidding me…"
Diet plan: boiled egg whites, semolina
Sam nearly exploded.
Is this how you treat a key player?!
Originally—
He had planned to swallow his pride.
Maybe apologize.
Maybe compromise.
But now?
This wasn't discipline.
This was humiliation.
Sam clenched the paper.
Then—
He looked toward the main training group.
Joshua Smith stood at the center.
Explaining.
Commanding.
Without hesitation—
Sam walked over.
Joshua was outlining the day's structure.
"Morning—physical conditioning."
"Afternoon—defensive structure."
"One-on-one. Two-on-two. Small-sided pressure drills."
He drew quickly on the tactical board.
Lines.
Arrows.
Movement patterns.
"Defense is not optional."
His voice sharpened.
"I want pressure."
"I want intensity."
"When the opponent has the ball—"
"You suffocate them."
"From striker…"
"To goalkeeper…"
"Everyone defends."
"Distances between lines—tight."
"No gaps."
"No excuses."
The players listened intently.
Then—
Joshua stopped.
His eyes shifted.
Silence spread instantly.
The players followed his gaze.
Sam Parker.
Standing behind them.
Awkward.
Exposed.
Everyone knew.
Sam had been training alone.
Punished.
Most players assumed—
He would be reintegrated soon.
After all—
He was still the most experienced striker.
But Joshua's expression—
Was cold.
"Did I allow you to join?"
The words fell like ice.
Every player turned toward Sam.
His face flushed red instantly.
In front of everyone…?
"Who do you think you are?!"
Sam snapped.
"Some Jamaican coach thinks he can boss me around?!"
A ripple spread through the squad.
Tension.
Sharp.
Immediate.
Joshua didn't get angry.
He smiled.
A calm—
Almost dangerous smile.
"As I said," Joshua replied evenly,
"If your condition isn't acceptable…"
"You don't train with the team."
Then—
He turned.
Not to Sam—
But to everyone.
"My lineup…"
"Is empty."
"My starting eleven…"
"Does not exist yet."
Silence.
"I don't care who you were last season."
"Starter."
"Substitute."
"Youth player."
"It means nothing to me."
Joshua's voice grew stronger.
"I only care about one thing."
"What you show me now."
"Your effort."
"Your attitude."
"Your performance."
"That determines everything."
"Train hard—you play."
"Slack off—you sit."
"Simple."
The players felt it.
This wasn't talk.
This was real.
Charlie Austin clenched his fists.
His heart pounded.
This is it…
My chance…
I'm not going back to laying bricks…
Jamie Vardy's eyes burned.
This is my shot…
He had clawed his way out of amateur football.
Worked jobs.
Played at night.
Now—
He had a door open.
He would not waste it.
Even if it killed him.
Joshua finally turned back to Sam.
His gaze was steady.
"As for you…"
"I'll give you two choices."
The entire training ground fell silent.
"First—"
"You follow the training plan."
"Properly."
"No shortcuts."
"Second—"
Joshua stepped forward slightly.
"You leave."
Shock.
Pure shock.
Even John Aston froze.
Joshua didn't stop.
"I don't keep players who don't work."
"Not in my team."
He turned slightly toward John.
"How much did we pay for him?"
John hesitated.
"…£100,000."
"…One and a half years left on his contract."
Joshua nodded once.
"£50,000."
That stunned everyone.
"Any offer above that—he goes."
Then Joshua looked directly at Sam.
"That's your value now."
Silence.
Heavy.
Crushing.
"Decide."
"Train properly…"
"Or don't come back tomorrow."
Sam stood there.
Frozen.
He hadn't expected this.
Not even close.
Joshua turned away.
Clapped his hands sharply.
"What are you waiting for?!"
"Training—NOW!"
The players snapped back instantly.
Running.
Moving.
Executing.
No one spoke.
But everyone understood—
A line had been drawn.
And Joshua Smith—
Had just taken full control.
(End of Chapter 12)
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