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It was just past nine, but the sun had already baked the sideline boards until they gave off that faint, metallic smell of heat on paint. Somewhere in the distance, sprinklers ticked softly, washing over the far side of the secondary pitch. No one was using it today. All drills were compressed. Narrow space. High intensity.

The main squad had just finished the final segment—five-zone shape rotation, done with uneven teams. Giuly and Plašil pressed like madmen. Morientes held ground b ...

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