The Greatest of all Time

Friday was a day off for Zachary and his teammates. Even the usually no-nonsense Coach Johansen had advised the players to get some rest after playing the last group match the previous day. They could afford to take a break since their quarter-final match against Zenit was—slated for Sunday afternoon.

Zachary woke up late, at 9:00 AM, cleaned up, and had his breakfast. His muscles were tense, and he still felt sullen after the loss the previous day. However, a night of ample rest had settled his mind.

"Zachary, there you are," Magnus called, interrupting his breakfast. "We have to go to the gym with Coach Bjørn."

"Isn't this our day off?"

Magnus smiled ruefully. "Coach Bjorn says it's a day of rest, not a day off. There's a difference. As part of our schedule, we have to do some exercise to recover faster from fatigue."

"At what time are we supposed to head to the gym?" Zachary inquired, in between mouthfuls of his breakfast.

"Right now," Magnus replied, eyeing the full plate of eggs, bread, and fruits before Zachary. "Most of the other players are already waiting at the bus. I'm rounding up the slackers. You need to hurry."

"Crap," Zachary cursed. "Why were we not informed of this yesterday?"

Magnus spread out his hands, his shoulders rising in a casual shrug. "I heard about this gym work today as well."

"I'll be there within 10 minutes," Zachary said, increasing the speed at which he was gobbling down his breakfast.

"Okay. But hurry up. Coach Bjørn is waiting." He added before rushing out of the uncrowded restaurant.

Zachary smiled—ruefully as he emptied his glass of milk. He'd just remembered that he had a date scheduled with Marta Romano. He called her to cancel and reschedule it for the afternoon as he ran to the bus.

"Good morning, players," Coach Bjørn greeted them at the gym.

"Good morning, coach," all the players returned the greeting more or less in unison. They were seated on mats in the weights section of the People Fitness Gym.

"I'm sorry to call you in for some training on your day off," Coach Bjørn began. "However, you're academy players above all else. It's important that I teach you how to accelerate your recovery after a tough 90-minute game. I don't want any cases of players limping across the hotel lobby the day after a match. The end goal of the exercises we'll be going through is to relax your tired muscles."

He smiled at the players, moving through their ranks. "It's imperative to recoup your energy reserves right after every game. We often provide you with milk chocolate drinks for proteins and carbohydrates in one hit during that critical time for muscles to recover energy right after games. We've also advised you to soak in ice baths to get rid of aches and pains in the short term during this tournament."

He raised an eyebrow, letting his gaze roam across the players. "How many of you have been diligently taking ice baths after every match?" He asked after a slight pause.

Most of the players, including Zachary, raised their hands. Zachary had been soaking in iced water for ten minutes after every match, even in his previous life. He had found the tactic useful for fast recovery from muscle fatigue after intensive exercise.

"That's good." Coach Bjørn nodded in approval. He flexed his muscles, covered by only a vest, making him look like a bodybuilder rather than a soccer coach. "We've also been advising you to eat highly nutritious food within two hours after the match to replenish depleted energy reserves. That's why your approved dinner and lunch menus consist of dishes rich in carbohydrates and protein and plenty of green vegetables."

Coach Bjørn folded his arms across his chest and continued his lecture. "I'm telling you all this to give you an understanding of the sort of routine you need to get into to recover quickly from fatigue when you go pro. Being a professional involves consecutive intensive matches like you're experiencing in this tournament."

"However, food and rest aren't all you need to recover quickly after an intensive game. We're here today to help you recover even faster."

"We'll start by hitting the bike for 30 minutes. Let's keep the exercise at a moderate intensity. The goal of the exercise is to have a slight warm-up. Then, we'll stretch all our essential muscle groups for 30 seconds for each. I'll lead the stretching routine and use foam rollers to guide your postures. After that, our massage therapists will help you relax your muscles. Any questions?"

None of the players raised their hands. They'd been stretching routinely at the academy. They were familiar with the routine.

"I expect you to pay close attention to the stretching exercises. Follow my lead, and don't deviate. For now, let's start with the bike." He clapped his hands to shoo them off.

They spent the next two hours following Coach Bjørn's routine.

He was in charge of physical fitness at the academy. Zachary did not doubt the efficacy of his muscle relaxation exercises in post-match recovery. He started with cycling, then stretched using the foam roller, following the coach's lead.

When he was—finished, he headed to the massage room. In that room with scented candles, pervaded by relaxing music, the massage soothed his body in ways nothing else could. His body responded to the ministrations of the massage therapist. Zachary didn't know her—but his muscles and joints were in love with her hands.

The massage stretched out his muscles, working out knots, giving his body well-earned bliss. Even though the pressure hurt at times, it left an overall sensation of wellness. When the session ended, Zachary felt as light as a feather, all burdens on his mind eliminated.

He had been doing a lot of exercises, which took a toll on his body. He looked great but had felt like a car in need of a service. He'd just realized that professional sports massage therapy could be the service.

He walked out of the massage room with a swagger, rivaling that of any world-famous hip-hop artist. The massage therapy had taken him briefly out of time and space, to exist without any worries. He made a mental note to add more massage sessions in future training routines.

"That massage was heaven on earth," Kasongo commented as he fell into step with him when he was moving towards the bus. "I feel like I'm ready to face Zenit right now." He smiled like a rogue and did a few basic stretches from Coach Bjørn's routine.

"I wanted more time, but the masseuse refused," Paul commented, sighing from behind him.

Kendrick, by his side, nodded. "What will you guys do with your free time? Should we go play some table tennis?" He asked, mopping a hand through his tousled brown hair.

"Count me out," Zachary was the first to object, raising his hands in a placating gesture. The four of them had stopped just outside the gym, waiting for their teammates.

His friends raised their eyebrows in questioning gestures.

"You're not hanging out with us?" Paul asked, creasing his brows. "What are you up to?"

"Don't ask," Zachary replied firmly. "I've got a few plans of my own for today." He decided not to tell them about his date with Marta Romano. He wasn't ready to turn into the next hot gossip topic among his teammates.

"Why the secrecy?" Kasongo chipped in, smiling sheepishly. "Did you meet a hot Latvian supermodel you don't want us to see and report to the coach?"

"That's is a possibility," Kendrick chipped in, nodding his head like a hen pecking grain.

"With the way he's been playing, I wouldn't be surprised," Paul added with a serious face. The three rhymed like they were from a music band.

"Okay, guys," Zachary interrupted. "Stop with the jests. You know me. I just need some time alone to settle my mind for the Sunday quarter-final. I think a walk around the city, on my own, will do me wonders. That's all." He lied with a straight face.

"Hmmm!" The guys expressed their doubt, more or less in unison.

"Let's get into the bus," Zachary said, changing the topic. "Coach Bjørn just came out of the gym. I'm famished and need some lunch." He added as he led the way towards the bus.

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