My Football Legends Chat Group-Chapter 79: Team Chemistry
As the fog began to lift over the Yorkshire hills, two figures cast long shadows as they walked toward their destination. One was tall and wearing Leeds United training gear while slinging a broken bicycle on his shoulder, while the other was limping slightly, carrying a bag full of footballs.
While the scene might look like a dedicated captain helping his teammate from an outsider’s perspective, the two people in particular were dead silent. Only the sound of their footsteps and the rattling of the derailed chain rang in their ears.
Archie Gray was currently staring at the ground as he walked forward, his ears flushed in embarrassment. He didn’t know what to say to break the silence that he felt was picking away at his sanity.
Rio on the other hand was mortified.
’How could I have been so stupid...’
He blamed himself for crashing into the kid, even if the fog was thick. Caught up in his own System notifications, he didn’t realize the atmosphere had become so unbearable.
"S-So..." Archie stammered, raising his head to look at the vice-captain beside him.
Seeing his stoic face and the lack of reaction to his voice, he couldn’t bring herself to continue speaking. Instead, he just gazed at him, appreciating the calm demeanor and the effortless way he carried the bike.
’Now that I see him up close, he really is built like a tank.’
Archie’s ears suddenly felt on fire as he realized he was staring.
As if feeling the gaze on him, Rio turned, only to see Archie’s wide eyes staring at him. This only lasted for a moment before both turned away, clearing their throats.
’Argh damn it. Am I his babysitter now?’
He chastised himself for being so distracted. However, it didn’t seem like he had much choice in the matter considering his Titan’s Core made the bike feel like a feather.
Being accompanied by the future star of Leeds United seemed to be enough for his leadership instincts to kick in.
Despite having the mental age of a veteran due to his future memories, he was in fact still unaccustomed to being a role model. Therefore he honestly did not know how to act in front of Archie when not on the pitch.
’Damn, this is more pressure than a penalty shootout at Wembley...’
"Um Rio." Archie’s quiet voice called out to him as he stopped in place.
"Y-Yes?" Rio turned around, adjusting the bike on his shoulder.
"This is the garage. Where we drop the balls." He said, pointing to a small outbuilding next to Rio’s apartment block.
"Oh... I’ll wait here for you then."
He inwardly sighed, feeling exasperated at his lack of social skills off the pitch. Just what kind of captain was he if he couldn’t hold a conversation with a seventeen-year-old.
Archie walked up and punched the code into the keypad. It wasn’t long until the shutter rolled up to reveal a messy storage space filled with cones and old nets.
He tried to lift the bag of balls onto the high shelf, however, his ankle twinged and he stumbled. Unfortunately, he underestimated the weight of twenty Mitre balls when standing on one good leg.
"Here, let me take that. You go sit down."
"W-What are you doing, I-I’m not a c-c-cripple!"
Rio’s eyes narrowed in response, his whole body poised to act.
In the moment of Archie’s flustered denial of his injury status, the winger swooped in and placed the bag on the top shelf with one hand. Then in a matter of untold speed, he grabbed a folding chair from the corner and set it up, forcing the boy to sit.
Archie’s eyes widened in shock. He was pretty sure that this guy would give Adama Traoré a run for his money with his raw strength.
He had half a mind to ask what protein shake he was drinking.
"Pfft HAHA—"
Seeing the pouting look on Archie’s face, along with the whole situation, Rio couldn’t help but stifle a laugh, quickly placing his hand over his mouth.
Archie turned his head to look over at Rio and saw him trying to hide his laugh. Instead of being angry, he also found the whole situation to be ridiculous.
A smile crept onto his face as he gazed at him.
’So he has this kind of side too?’ he thought inwardly.
Ever since noticing him break into the first team, Archie had only seen the hardworking and serious Rio. This was the first time seeing that he could also laugh at silly things and have fun.
Subconsciously, he began to relax.
On his way past Rio to leave the garage, he nudged him with his shoulder and stuck out his tongue.
Rio froze for a moment, not expecting such a reaction. However, he suddenly felt a lot less awkward around him.
The two continued to walk along the path towards the apartment entrance, this time feeling a little closer. Rio even took the initiative to begin the conversation.
"Wow, who would have thought that a bag of balls could defeat the great Archie Gray."
Archie nodded, "They actually used to be filled with concrete in the old days. My granddad told me."
"What!? Concrete footballs?" Rio almost dropped the pink bicycle on his back in shock.
"Pfft.. Hahahaha"
A loud laugh poured out of the boy beside him as he began to clutch his sides and giggle to his heart’s content. The laugh was infectious, causing a smile to subconsciously appear on Rio’s face.
It was then that he knew, he had been duped.
"Ha ha ha." Rio laughed sarcastically, however he was inwardly surprised and impressed at the same time. Even though he knew Archie’s potential from the future, he had never witnessed this cheeky side of him.
The two continued to talk back and forth for the remaining walk up the stairs to Rio’s apartment. Since the ice had been broken, it was as if the two were old friends, sharing their interests and blabbing about anything and everything.
Rio learned that Archie’s family had a strict ’no football talk at dinner’ rule because it always ended in arguments about tactics. This was news to him since he assumed the Gray family lived and breathed tactics 24/7.
Now that he thought about it, he had decided to run a different route this morning for some reason. Since his mind was feeling all foggy from the Tactical Blueprint overload, he couldn’t quite remember why he had chosen to do so.
Archie also loved gaming and even played Football Manager in his spare time.
"I actually signed you on my save last night," Archie admitted, looking a little shy. "You cost £50 million."
"Only £50 million?" Rio scoffed, feigning insult as he unlocked his front door. "I’m worth at least £100 million."
"Dream on," Archie grinned.
Rio opened the door, and the smell of burnt toast hit them instantly.
"Leo!" Rio shouted. "I told you not to cook!"
Leo emerged from the kitchen, wearing boxer shorts and a panic-stricken expression.
"I didn’t burn it! It’s... caramelized!"
Archie burst out laughing again. Rio shook his head, placing the broken bike in the hallway.
"Breakfast is on me," Rio sighed. "Leo, put some pants on. We have a guest."
As they sat down to eat (takeout croissants, thanks to the burnt toast disaster), Rio’s phone buzzed in his pocket.
[Chat Room Active]
The_King: You are feeding the boy croissants? A warrior needs meat. Eggs. Steak. Raw.
Zizou_5: Ignore him. Pastries are good for the soul. But tell him to fix his bike chain. A broken tool is a sign of a broken mind.
Total_Football_14: The bond is forming. This is good. On the pitch, he will run for you because he laughs with you.
Rio smiled at the messages.
"So," Rio said, wiping crumbs from his mouth. "QPR tomorrow. Are you ready to watch from the bench?"
Archie’s smile faded slightly, replaced by a determined look.
"I’ll be watching," Archie said seriously. "And I’ll be learning. Because next time, I’m not coming off."
Rio nodded, impressed by the fire in the kid’s eyes.
"Good," Rio said. "Because I need someone to pass to who doesn’t have two left feet like Dan James."
"Hey!" Archie laughed, throwing a piece of croissant at him.
The Next Day. Elland Road.
The atmosphere was electric. It was a Wednesday night game under the lights. The cold Yorkshire air bit at the players’ skin as they warmed up.
Rio stood in the center circle, the captain’s armband tight on his bicep.
He looked around the stadium. 36,000 people screaming "Marching On Together."
It never got old.
He looked at the opposition. QPR were huddled together, looking nervous. Their manager, Gareth Ainsworth, was shouting instructions, wearing his trademark leather jacket.
"They look scared," Piroe whispered, standing next to Rio.
"They should be," Rio replied calmly.
He activated The Scout’s Eye.
[Target: QPR Team]
[Morale: Low / Defensive]
[Tactical Set-up: Low Block / Counter Attack]
Rio grinned.
"Everyone listen up!" Rio shouted, clapping his hands.
The Leeds players gathered around him. Even Meslier jogged up from the goal.
"They are going to park the bus," Rio said, his voice cutting through the noise. "They want a 0-0. They want to waste time. We don’t let them."
He pointed at Summerville and James.
"Stay wide. Stretch them."
He pointed at Rutter.
"Drop deep. Pull the center-backs out."
He looked at Kamara and Ampadu.
"Win every second ball. If they clear it, you send it back."
"And you?" Ampadu asked.
Rio tapped the number 10 on his chest.
"I’m going to paint a masterpiece."
The whistle blew.
PEEEP!
The game began.
QPR immediately dropped into a 5-4-1 formation. They built a wall of blue and white hoops on the edge of their box.
For the first ten minutes, it was frustrating. Leeds passed sideways. Backwards. Sideways.
"Boooo!" The QPR fans jeered every pass.
"Patience!" Farke shouted from the sideline.
Rio drifted between the lines. He felt the space. It was tight. Suffocating.
But he had the Tactical Blueprint.
[Tactical Blueprint Active]
[Pattern: The Can Opener]
[Cost: 500 Major Points]
Rio saw the lines appear on the pitch. Blue glowing lines that only he could see.
He received the ball from Ampadu. He didn’t pass it wide.
He turned.
Two QPR midfielders, Dozzell and Field, rushed to close him down.
"Gotcha," Rio whispered.
He waited until they were a yard away. Then he played a blind reverse pass through the gap they just created.
It was a laser. It sliced through the midfield.
Rutter received it with his back to goal.
"Turn!" Rio shouted.
But the blueprint showed something else.
Rutter didn’t turn. He laid it off first time.
Back to Rio. 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦
Rio had continued his run. He burst through the midfield line.
Now he was facing the back five.
The center-back, Cook, stepped up to engage him.
[Blueprint Step 2: The Decoy]
"Crys! Run!" Rio yelled.
Summerville made a diagonal run from the left, dragging the wing-back with him.
Rio faked a pass to Summerville. Cook shifted his weight.
Rio didn’t pass. He drove straight at the gap Cook left behind.
He was in the box.
The crowd rose to their feet.
Begovic, the QPR keeper, rushed out.
Rio saw the angle. He could shoot.
But he saw Piroe (who was on the bench? No, Piroe was resting. Rutter was the striker. Wait, the lineup said James-Piroe-Summerville in the previous Chapter? Let me check. Ah, Farke said ’Rutter goes up top’ and ’You start in the middle’. Piroe is on the bench.)
Correction: Rutter is the striker.
Rio saw Rutter making a run to the back post.
But Rio also saw the goal.
The_King: Shoot. Be selfish.
Rio ignored the voice. He saw something better.
He rolled his foot over the ball, freezing the keeper.
Then he poked it. Not to Rutter. Not to the goal.
He poked it backwards. To the edge of the box.
"WHAT!?" The commentator screamed.
Ampadu was running onto it. Unmarked.
"HIT IT!" Rio screamed.
Ampadu unleashed a thunderbolt.
The ball smashed into the top corner.
1-0.
12th minute.
Elland Road erupted.
Ampadu ran to the corner flag, sliding on his knees. Rio jogged after him, a wide grin on his face.
"I told you I’d paint a masterpiece," Rio said as he hugged him.
"You’re crazy!" Ampadu laughed. "Who passes backwards in the six-yard box!?"
"Someone who sees everything," Rio tapped his temple.
Farke on the sideline was clapping, but he was shaking his head in disbelief.
"He sees things I don’t see," Farke muttered to his assistant. "And I have the tactical cam."
Rio looked up at the Director’s Box. Archie was there, waving his crutches in the air.
Rio gave him a salute.
DING
[Tactical Blueprint Successful]
[Team Chemistry Increased]
Rio looked at the QPR defense. They were arguing. They were broken.
"One down," Rio whispered. "How many more do you want, Boss?"
He looked at Farke. Farke held up three fingers.
"Three it is," Rio smirked.
