Chapter 70: Chapter 69: The Calm Before Kickoff
Friday, August 5th, 2022
Friday’s training session was deliberately lighter—Gasperini wanted the squad fresh, not fatigued, for Sunday’s opener.
The morning consisted of activation work, dynamic stretching, and positional play in small groups. Demien worked with the midfielders on quick passing combinations, the ball zipping between de Roon, Koopmeiners, Pašalić, and himself in tight spaces while Gasperini watched with his arms crossed.
"Good tempo," the coach called out. "That’s the speed we need on Sunday."
After an hour they moved to set pieces—corners, free kicks, defensive organization when Sampdoria would have the ball. Demien practiced his positioning in the defensive unit, learning where to stand when defending corners and who he was responsible for marking.
Gasperini blew his whistle to gather everyone at midfield.
"Saturday we train at the stadium," he announced while the squad formed a semi-circle around him. "Light activation only—I want your legs fresh. We’ll walk through positioning one more time, then you rest. Sunday at three o’clock, we start our season properly. Any questions?"
Silence.
"Good. Go home, eat properly, sleep well, and come ready to work tomorrow. Dismissed."
The system pinged as they dispersed.
「MISSION COMPLETE」
「Today’s Training Session Accomplished」
「Reward: 10 TP」
「Current Balance: 304 TP | 15 SP | 66 MP」
The afternoon was entirely optional recovery—players could use the gym, get treatment, or simply rest at home. Demien opted for a massage to work out the accumulated tightness from the week, then spent an hour in the cold plunge pool before heading back to his apartment.
He did laundry, prepared meals for the next few days—grilled chicken, rice, vegetables, everything clean and simple for match preparation—and fell asleep early with his mind already running through tactical scenarios for Sunday.
Saturday, August 7th, 2022 - Match Day -1
Saturday morning brought a light training session at the stadium itself, just enough to loosen muscles and go through final tactical instructions without tiring anyone before tomorrow’s match. The Gewiss Stadium looked immaculate in the morning light, the grass freshly cut in those professional patterns that TV cameras loved, the stands empty but somehow still carrying the weight of anticipation.
After an hour of activation work and positional drills, Gasperini blew his whistle and gathered the squad at midfield. The system pinged quietly in Demien’s mind as the session concluded.
「MISSION COMPLETE」
「Today’s Training Session Accomplished」
「Reward: 10 TP」
「Current Balance: 314 TP | 15 SP | 66 MP」
Back in the dressing room, Gasperini stood in front of the tactical board with his arms crossed while the squad settled onto the benches. The atmosphere was focused—no jokes, no casual chatter. This was the final briefing before opening day.
"Tomorrow at three o’clock, our season begins," Gasperini started, his voice carrying authority without being loud. "Everything we’ve worked on in pre-season, every drill, every tactical session—it all matters now. Sampdoria will come here organized and disciplined. Dejan Stanković is a good coach. His teams are always difficult to break down."
He turned to the tactical board and began drawing Sampdoria’s formation with a marker.
"They will play 4-2-3-1. Four defenders sitting deep. Two defensive midfielders—Winks and Rincón—who will anchor their midfield. Djuricic in the center as their number ten, Fernandez on the right wing, Sabiri on the left, and Gabbiadini up front."
Gasperini circled the two defensive midfielders’ positions.
"Winks and Rincón are their double pivot. Winks likes to get on the ball and dictate tempo—press him early, don’t let him settle. Rincón is thirty-four years old, experienced, reads the game well. He doesn’t run much anymore, but he positions himself perfectly. We need to move them around, make them turn, force them to cover ground they don’t want to cover."
He pointed to the full-back positions on the board.
"Their full-backs—Zanoli on the right and Augello on the left—Augello especially likes to get forward when he can. But against us, they’ll be more conservative. They know we punish transitions. When they do push up, that’s our opportunity. Hateboer, Mæhle—exploit that space immediately."
His marker moved to the right wing position.
"Now, their right winger—Manuwa Fernandez. Twenty years old, came through their academy. He’s been making noise since last season. Quick, direct, good one-versus-one ability. He can be their most dangerous player on the counter. Scalvini, when he cuts inside onto his left foot, don’t dive in. Stay on your feet, force him wide."
Demien’s attention sharpened when he heard the name. Manuwa Fernandez—he’d seen highlights of him during pre-season, read articles about how Sampdoria’s academy product was attracting interest from mid-table Premier League sides and clubs across Europe. The kind of player who could make a difference in moments like these.
Gasperini continued, his marker now on the attacking midfielder position.
"Djuricic is their creative player in the middle. He’ll drop deep to receive, then try to find Gabbiadini with passes in behind or slip Fernandez and Sabiri through on the wings. De Roon, Koopmeiners—you cannot let him turn comfortably in central areas. Force him wide, make him play sideways."
Gasperini set the marker down and looked at the squad.
"Defensively, they will sit in a low block. Five meters between their defensive and midfield lines, compact, organized. They want us to have possession in areas that don’t hurt them. So what do we do?"
He didn’t wait for an answer.
"We move the ball quickly. Side to side. Force them to shift. Create small overloads on the wings, then when they collapse, we switch play. Patience, precision, and when the opening comes—be clinical."
He grabbed a different marker and began writing the starting eleven on the board.
Starting XI - 3-4-1-2
GK: Musso
Defense: Tolói - Djimsiti - Scalvini
Wing-backs: Hateboer - Mæhle
Midfield: de Roon - Koopmeiners
Attacking Mid: Éderson
Forwards: Lookman -
Demien’s eyes scanned the starting eleven, his name absent as expected. He’d known since Wednesday when the squad list was posted, so the disappointment was muted—more a dull acknowledgment than a sharp sting. Lookman starting on his debut made sense given his Premier League experience and £15 million price tag. Højlund was the natural choice up front after his strong pre-season. Éderson had earned his spot with consistent performances.
The bench had been confirmed earlier that morning—a printed sheet posted in the corridor listed all fifteen substitutes. Demien had seen his name there, fifteenth on the list, the last player selected. Not ideal, but he was in the matchday squad for Serie A opening day.
Gasperini turned back to face the room.
"Starting eleven, you know your roles. We’ve practiced this all week. Execute what we’ve drilled. Substitutes—"
His eyes swept across those on the bench, landing briefly on Demien among others.
"—you are just as important. Serie A matches are long, tactical, momentum shifts happen quickly. When your number is called, you perform. Stay warm, stay focused, be ready. With fifteen on the bench, we have depth and flexibility. Use it."
He held up three fingers.
"Three key points for tomorrow. One: Be patient in possession. Don’t force it. Move them around until the space opens. Two: Defend transitions immediately. When we lose the ball, five seconds of aggressive pressure to win it back or get organized. Three: Take your chances. We might not get many clear opportunities against their low block, so when they come, finish."
He paused, letting the words settle.
"Any questions?"
Silence. The squad was locked in, faces serious, minds already running through their roles for tomorrow.
"Good. Go home. Eat clean. Sleep well. Report here at noon tomorrow for pre-match meal and final preparation. Forza Atalanta."
"Forza Atalanta," the squad echoed back.
The meeting ended and players dispersed to their homes for rest, the pre-match routine familiar from years of professional football for most but still new enough to Demien that he felt nervous energy building in his stomach.
Saturday Evening
Demien sat at the small kitchen table in the apartment, pushing pasta around his plate while Luca scrolled through his phone on the couch. The TV played highlights from earlier Serie A pre-season matches, but neither of them were really watching.
"You nervous?" Luca asked without looking up.
"Yeah. First league match tomorrow. It’s different."
"You’ll be fine. Even if you don’t start, being on the bench for opening day is huge."
Demien nodded, though his mind was already elsewhere. He wanted people there tomorrow—his people. Family, friends. The ones who’d supported him through everything.
He pulled out his phone and opened his messages, starting with Marco.
Demien: "You coming tomorrow? 3pm kickoff."
Marco’s reply came quickly.
Marco: "Wouldn’t miss it. Already got my ticket. First Serie A match for my client? I’ll be there."
Demien: "Probably won’t even play."
Marco: "Don’t care. You’re in the squad. That matters."
Next was his mother.
Demien: "Match tomorrow. You coming?"
Isabella: "Of course! I took the day off work. So proud of you ❤️"
Demien: "I might just sit on the bench the whole time."
Isabella: "Then I’ll watch you sit on the bench. I’m your mother. I’ll always be there."
He smiled at the screen, feeling warmth spread through his chest, then glanced over at Luca who was still on the couch.
"You coming tomorrow?"
Luca looked up. "To watch you warm up for ninety minutes?"
"Shut up."
"Obviously I’m coming. Wouldn’t miss it." Luca grinned. "Plus I need to scout the opposition for when I’m back from Portugal."
"Still not confirmed yet."
"Will be soon. Marco says another week or two."
Demien hesitated for a moment, then scrolled to Sophia’s name in his contacts. His thumb hovered over the call button before he finally pressed it.
She answered on the third ring.
"Hey, what’s up?"