Chapter 17: Chapter 17: Win the First Trust Window II
"At the end of the two weeks," Garcia said, "there’s a trial programme running on August 3rd. Five days, training sessions first, then a trial match at the end."
He reached into the folder and placed the programme sheet beside the plan.
"I have information that scouts from five mid-table League One clubs are expected to be there."
Alan looked at the programme sheet, then at Garcia.
"Expected."
"Yes," Garcia said. "Not guaranteed. I’m not going to sit here and promise you scouts will turn up until they’re standing by the pitch. But the source is solid."
"Who is the source?"
"A lower-league journalist I know who covers academy releases and the trial circuit. He is usually careful because clubs stop feeding people who make things up."
Alan picked up the programme sheet and read it properly.
Jamie watched his father’s face.
"You think two weeks of training is going to make five clubs want him," Alan said.
"No," Garcia said. "Two weeks won’t make clubs want Jamie. The clubs will either see what I saw or they won’t." He kept his voice level. "What two weeks can do is stop Jamie walking in there with the same version of himself that got released. Quick enough to recover, smart enough to read danger, but so careful on the ball that he disappears whenever possession comes under pressure."
Alan set the programme sheet down.
"If he walks into that trial the same way he walked onto the pitch yesterday," Garcia said, "the scouts won’t see what I saw. They’ll see what Millwall saw."
Alan did not answer immediately.
Jamie looked at the floor for a second, then back up.
"What if I’m still too safe?" he asked, his voice dropping on the last word.
"Then we find out why," Garcia said. "Fear, habit, coaching damage, whether you want it badly enough to change. If it can be fixed, we fix it. If it can’t, I tell your father directly instead of wasting your time pretending otherwise."
Jamie did not answer.
His shoulders shifted slightly, the same way they had at the trial ground when Garcia mentioned the exact minutes.
"Who pays for the coach?" Alan asked.
"G11 covers the two-week block," Garcia said.
Alan held his gaze. "You’re a new company."
"Yes."
"Taking a risk on a prospect with no contract."
"Yes," Garcia said. "If I’m wrong about Jamie, the first cost should fall on me before it falls on you."
Alan’s eyes stayed on him.
"Where is the training happening?"
"Private pitch or rented facility, depending on availability," Garcia said. "I’ll confirm the exact location tonight."
Alan did not look fully satisfied, but he did not push the point yet.
Alan watched him for a moment longer than was comfortable.
"Oliver Whitmore’s office called us yesterday afternoon," he said.
Garcia kept his expression still.
Of course it did.
The room was quiet enough for him to hear a car passing outside.
"Right," Garcia said.
"He has a larger agency. Better contacts. People in the industry know his name."
"He does," Garcia said. "All of that is true."
Alan waited for the caveat.
Garcia gave him none.
"If you want the safer name," Garcia said, "you should speak to Oliver. But before you do, ask him three things."
He held up one finger.
"What he saw Jamie do before Jamie touched the ball."
A second finger.
"What Jamie needs to fix before August 3rd."
A third.
"What the first two weeks should actually look like."
He put his hand down.
"If Oliver gives you better answers than I’ve given you, you should consider him."
The room went quiet again.
Jamie was still watching Garcia carefully, but his eyes no longer looked ready to leave the conversation. Alan looked at his son once, then back at Garcia, and whatever was behind the man’s expression had become harder to read.
Alan said nothing for a long moment. He looked at Jamie, and Jamie looked back. Something passed between them that Garcia did not try to name.
Then Alan looked at Garcia again.
"Jamie," he said. "Do you want this?"
Jamie opened his mouth, closed it, then said, "Yes."
Something crossed his face, not doubt exactly, more like he had heard the word come out and was not sure it was the right one.
"I want to try," he said.
The second version was quieter and sounded more like the truth.
Alan looked at his son for another second, then turned back to Garcia.
"Two weeks," he said. "No contract. No promises. You keep me informed about everything. You don’t contact clubs or scouts behind my back. If Jamie says he wants to stop, it stops."
He held Garcia’s gaze.
"Those are the conditions."
"Agreed," Garcia said. "All of them."
Alan gave a short nod, the kind that ended the discussion without softening it.
"Then we’ll try it for two weeks. Nothing beyond that."
"Understood."
"Leave the plan," Alan said, looking at the folder. "I’ll read it tonight."
Garcia slid the two pages across the table without picking them back up.
He walked back to the car with his face calm.
He had not smiled inside the house, and he did not smile on the pavement either. The street was too open, and the win was too unfinished.
He got in, closed the door, and let the quiet of the car settle around him.
By the time he sat behind the wheel, the promise had caught up with him.
I promised a private coach. Training starts Monday. Monday is tomorrow. G11 is paying.
He stared through the windscreen at the recycling bin outside Alan’s gate.
I do not actually have the coach yet.
His phone buzzed in his jacket pocket.
He pulled it out and looked at the screen. The notification was from a group chat he had muted months ago, the kind of muting a person does when they are too embarrassed to leave a group but not ready to be reminded it exists.
Someone had tagged him.
He opened it.
Ben Owusu has shared a photo.
The photo was from years back, taken in a hotel bar somewhere warm, with the four of them in the kind of state that only happened on the last night of a trip that had no business being as good as it was. Garcia, Ben, Rafi, and Theo were all there, looking like they had not slept and had decided not to worry about it.
Ben: The ghost is alive. I repeat, the ghost is alive.
Theo: Nope. Ghost emoji. Back to muted.
Rafi: Theo leave him alone. Garcia where have you been
Ben: I’ll tell you where he’s been. Off the grid like a man who owes money or a man who did something embarrassing. One of those.
Theo: Both probably
Garcia’s eyes stopped on Rafi’s name.
Rafi worked with academy rejects, semi-pros, and youth prospects, usually the kind who never made television but sometimes left him with contracts they would not have found anywhere else.
Garcia had known that for years and still had not thought of him until the problem was sitting in his lap.
He typed into the chat.
Garcia: Are you lot free tonight?
Three seconds passed with nothing.
Ben: THE GHOST SPEAKS
Theo: No
Rafi: Yes. What happened?
Ben: What’s the spot? Don’t say that bar on the high street it was terrible last time
Garcia: The usual place. I’ll explain when I get there.
Theo: I said no
Rafi: Theo you’re coming
Theo: Fine but I want it on record that I said no
Ben: Noted and ignored. What time Garcia?
Garcia typed seven o’clock, then put the phone in his pocket.
The system appeared before he could start the car.
[SIDE MISSION COMPLETED]
Mission: Win the First Trust Window.
Objective Complete: Alan Holt has agreed to trust G11 Sports Management with Jamie Holt’s two-week preparation period.
Rewards:
— Skill Points +1000
— All Current Stats +1 SP
— Negotiation SP +10
— Client Management SP +10
[Agent Stats Updated]
Scouting: D — 430 / 1500 SP → 431 / 1500 SP
Negotiation: D- — 270 / 1000 SP → 281 / 1000 SP
Contract Knowledge: D — 390 / 1500 SP → 391 / 1500 SP
Client Management: C- — 620 / 2000 SP → 631 / 2000 SP
Network: Damaged — 45 / 100 → 46 / 100
Reputation: Ruined — 0 / 100 → 1 / 100
Influence: 0 → 1
Skill Points: 0 → 1000
Garcia looked at the numbers while the chat kept buzzing with new messages faster than he could read them.
Two weeks, one raw right-back, no signed contract, and a coach he still had to convince tonight.
Garcia started the car before the next message could pull his eyes back to the screen.
