Chapter 4: In the Shadow
Monday, October 12, 2009
Monday morning was rainy and cold.
After two wins, the mood at Crawley Town felt lighter.
Niels stepped onto the pitch and felt a quiet confidence among the players.
They were already warming up, jogging in circles. Milan stood watching, focused.
Niels put down his bag on the wet grass.
"Morning, boss," Milan called over through the rain.
He looked at Niels, nodding but keeping his eyes on the players. "Did you watch the footage this weekend?"
"Yeah," Niels said, pulling on his training top. "Easy to see what worked."
Milan almost smiled. "Good. Want to run the session today?"
The question hit Niels like a cold breeze—heavy but exciting. He didn't hesitate. "Yeah. I think I'm ready."
Milan's smile appeared, small but real. "Alright, lad. I'm here if you need me."
Niels nodded, feeling grateful. He turned to the players, who were gathered in a loose group at the center of the pitch, watching him.
Their eyes showed more than curiosity, they were starting to trust him.
Today wasn't just about practice.
It was about keeping the spark alive, building on the wins, and proving they weren't lucky.
"Alright, guys, listen up!" Niels shouted, his voice cutting through the drizzle. "We've shown we can fight. We've shown we can win. But that's not enough. Now it's about being consistent and building something real. We're not just playing for points, we're building a team that can fight for promotion."
Luka Radev, the 17-year-old winger with quick feet and sharp instincts, looked at Niels steadily more mature than his age.
Niels trusted Luka's spark but wasn't going to go easy on him or anyone else.
"We're starting with a small-sided possession drill," Niels said, pacing on the wet grass. "Keep it tight and moving. Talk to each other and know where your teammates are. Win the ball, then move it forward fast no more than three touches."
The players split into two teams orange bibs against no bibs.
Niels paced the sideline, watching closely.
Jamal Osei controlled the midfield, calm and steady, setting the pace.
Liam McCulloch led the defense, shouting orders and keeping everyone organized.
But Luka stood out. His choices were quick, his positioning sharp, moving through the chaos like he was always one step ahead.
"Good job, Luka!" Niels called after a quick one-two. "Jamal, move the ball faster! Don't let them settle. Dev, keep moving don't stand still!"
Niels felt the change.
The players weren't just running drills they were listening, moving with him, not just for him.
They trusted his voice and his plan, not because he was a big-name coach, but because he'd earned it, one shout and one nod at a time.
The session mixed possession drills with tactical work.
Niels pushed the players to bring extra energy the kind of intensity that could lift a scrappy League Two team into something better.
They practiced quick transitions, pressing high, then dropping back to cover gaps moves Niels knew would matter down the line, even if he couldn't fully explain why.
As the session ended, the players were panting, hands on knees.
Milan walked over, hands in his pockets, rain dripping off his jacket. He didn't say anything at first, just stood next to Niels, watching the players cool down, their laughter blending with the rain.
"You're getting it," Milan said at last, his voice low and warm. "They're listening to you now. That's the hardest part."
Niels watched the squad, a small smile appearing. "I'm just trying to keep them sharp. One or two wins don't mean we're safe. We need to be consistent."
Milan nodded, steady and sure. "Exactly. Tactics are one thing, but you're not just coaching systems, you're coaching people. That's where it gets messy, and that's what really matters."
Niels watched the players Luka joking with Dev, Marko wiping sweat from his brow, quieter but prouder than last week.
They were starting to feel like a team, not just a group of individuals.
The mood was changing for the better.
That evening, in the analysis room, Milan left Niels alone to study the footage.
Rain tapped against the window, and outside, the world grew dark.
Niels felt in control. His pen moved as he took notes, thinking through tactics for the upcoming cup match against a lower-league team.
It was a chance to prove himself again not just filling in or being Milan's shadow.
He wasn't a kid anymore not the player who'd lost his way.
He was still the assistant, still learning, still behind the scenes.
But every drill, every shout, every nod from the players felt like progress.
He wasn't the manager yet.
But deep down, on that quiet, rainy night, Niels knew he was on his way.