The following morning, before most of the academy had even stirred, Amani checked in at FC Utrecht's rehabilitation suite. Coach Pronk had spotted a slight roll to his right ankle after Saturday's frenetic Eredivisie finale and wanted it reinforced before regular training with the senior team.
The air smelled faintly of antiseptic and metal, cool lights overhead gleaming on the chrome of weight machines and the mirror-lined walls. On a table nearby, a bag of ice whispered condensation, and he flexed his aching left knee, remembering its slight wobble after that last heavy drill.
As he eased onto the treatment table, he could feel the warm hands of the physiotherapist applying a soothing rub to his quadriceps – fingers working magic on muscle fibers that still felt stiff from yesterday's session. His skin flushed under the rub, and for a moment, a jolt of heat chased away the deep, tired chill that had settled in his bones.
On the table below, a bowl of warm water waited for an ice massage, and Amani plunged his calf in, the cold biting immediately at his skin. He winced as the numbing chill crept up his leg, then slowed his breathing until he felt it spread: pins and needles exploding under his skin, then melting into dull ache.
This was different from home, where recovery meant a quiet night by the fire or a swim in the ocean. Here, cold therapy and targeted stretches were as much a part of training as drills on the pitch. The discomfort wasn't a setback – it was simply another challenge, another way for his body to learn strength.
As the physiotherapist moved on to taping his ankle for support, Amani's mind drifted, watching the tight pink tape embrace his skin. He thought of the whirlwind of the past: chasing dust-covered balls on Malindi's dusty pitches, the midnight trials by lamplight, and suddenly this: a gleaming European facility testing his body like a lab experiment.
His rise had been meteoric, almost dizzying in its speed. He could still feel the echoes of every shout and whistle back home fueling his current sprint, every barefoot sprint on sizzling sand teaching his calves to burn without surrender.
Anxiety fluttered in his chest – all those eyes watching him now, from Stein's quiet nods to scouts scribbling notes – but it settled into something hungry instead. No matter what, he thought, I have to stay sharp. Every bead of sweat and every rep in this sterile room was just another way to prepare.
When the ice bath followed – the buckets of cubes on his shoulders – he let the cold shock empty his mind of everything but discipline. Shivering, breathing shallow, he reminded himself that pain was temporary and purpose was permanent.
This was training. He might not be on the pitch today, but sitting here with muscles screaming was as close as he could get to scoring a goal. Closing his eyes against the sting, he pictured Stadion Galgenwaard again – the turf, the stands, his name on the team sheet – and promised himself he'd keep pushing until he belonged there completely.
On the wall in front of him, a whiteboard listed some recovery goals and training targets. Suddenly, a soft chime sounded in his ears. SYSTEM NOTIFICATION appeared above the board, visible only to him. It blinked with a single message:
***
NEW MISSION UNLOCKED:
"Mind and Body Maintenance"
Objectives: - Complete the prescribed ankle strengthening exercises.
- Watch a full match recording of Roda JC and note 3 tactical insights.
- Write a brief reflection on how your rookie season could improve next year.
***
Amani smirked, rubbing his ankle as if even the system knew he needed the reminder. He worked through the prescribed exercises with precision, treating each move as crucial. Later that afternoon, Malik joined him in the study room. Over two cups of strong black coffee, they pulled up the Roda JC-Utrecht match video on the tablet.
Malik pretended to critique Amani's running angles, but Amani was deeply focused on patterns: defensive shapes and forward runs. "They always pack the midfield, see?" Amani noted, pausing the clip over a three-player wall. Malik laughed, careful not to spill his coffee. "Smart!" he said. Together, they scribbled notes and schematics. Even with so much noise around the club now, this felt familiar – analyzing the game was what he loved most.
At 4 PM, Pronk called them onto the indoor pitch for a brief strategy session. Amani did cool-down passing drills under a gray sky, reviewing his mental checklist. To his surprise, Jan Wouters – the first-team coach – had slipped into the stands to watch. Wouters, lean and stocky, nodded as Amani ran through a series of sharp one-touch passes.
At halftime, he jogged down to the sideline. "How's the ankle feeling, kiddo?" he asked, hands on hips and breath steaming in the chilly air. Amani grinned. "Better, sir. Feels stronger already." Wouters gave a rare, approving smile and patted Amani's shoulder. "Good," he said. "Don't push too hard, but keep your head in the game."
The veteran coach's quiet confidence filled Amani with pride. Even as Wouters excused himself to talk tactics with the assistant, the message was clear: they were investing in him.
Back in the dressing room, Coach Pronk sat them down with a notepad and pen. "Alright," he said, "one more task before you go today." It was another writing assignment, required by their support plan: "Write one page about your goals and areas to improve for next season."
Malik groaned as he grabbed a sheet, but Amani took it seriously. Later that night, after tutoring and dinner, Amani opened his notebook at his bunk. By the soft light of a desk lamp, he jotted down honest reflections about what had gone well and what to work on: stronger finish, sharper defensive awareness, steadier mind.
As the familiar blue mission icon pulsed softly on the corner of his page (a tiny watermark he had drawn in), he realized another objective was met: he had to stay humble and hungry.
Meanwhile, in the Utrecht offices, the club's technical staff were not idle. After Amani's initial contract signing, whispers of trying to extend his deal had already surfaced. The KNVB rules still restricted minors to three-year contracts, meaning Utrecht had to be creative.
During a board meeting that morning, the CEO and technical director discussed options to keep the talented teenager at the club. Wouters had phoned in from the training ground, his gravelly voice emphasizing that Utrecht's next decade might depend on nurturing this one player.
The CEO rubbed his temples, listing names like OGC Nice and RB Leipzig that had been brought up in the last 48 hours. The technical director tapped nervously on the table.
A senior scout cleared her throat and reminded them of the solidarity and commitment Amani had shown – his family had struggled, and he had given everything for this chance. The mood was tense but resolute: everyone agreed that this "raw talent" was too great to lose.