My Ultimate Gacha System

Chapter 353 - 28: Carrington & Old Trafford I

Sunday, June 18, 2023

The Lowry Hotel, Salford

7:30 AM

The alarm went at seven-thirty and Demien’s eyes opened before the sound finished its first cycle, and Phillips was already in the bathroom with the tap running and the electric toothbrush humming against the tile while light came through the gap in the curtains showing Manchester’s morning grey.

He swung his legs off the bed and sat on the edge for a moment while his body ran through its mental checklist—legs good, back fine, shoulders loose, no tightness anywhere—and the recovery pool yesterday had done its work because match day minus one always started with the question of whether the previous game left anything behind.

The River Irwell moved below the window and the city was waking up in the way Manchester woke up on Sunday mornings, which was slower than weekdays but with the particular energy that came before big matches at Old Trafford, and somewhere out there seventy-five thousand people would be making their plans for tomorrow night while he was about to spend the day preparing to play in front of them.

Phillips came out of the bathroom and nodded once without speaking because match day minus one had its own rhythm and unnecessary conversation wasn’t part of it, and Demien went in and turned the shower hot enough that steam filled the small space before he stepped under it.

The England training kit was laid out on his bed when he finished—white base layer, dark blue shorts, the training top with the three lions and the Adidas stripes—and he dressed methodically because the routine mattered even when the routine was simple, and by the time he laced his trainers Phillips was already packed and waiting by the door.

They walked to breakfast together at seven fifty-five and the restaurant was filling with players who moved through the buffet line with the same focused quiet that came before tactical sessions, and the energy was different from yesterday’s recovery day because today was about North Macedonia and tomorrow was about executing what today taught them.

Demien took eggs, toast, oatmeal with berries, orange juice, water, and found a table where Eze and Gallagher were already sitting with plates that looked similar to his while the room filled with the low sound of cutlery and occasional conversation that stayed professional rather than social.

Rice appeared with his tray and sat down across from Demien without asking, and his plate had double portions of everything because his body required more fuel than most, and he ate three forkfuls before he spoke.

"Sleep alright?" Rice asked.

"Yeah," Demien said.

"Good," Rice said, and he took another bite before continuing. "Today’s session is tactical. Southgate’s going to drill North Macedonia’s pressing triggers properly. They’re organized, not chaotic like some teams. They press as a unit."

Gallagher nodded while chewing and swallowed before adding his part. "Played against Elmas at club level last season. Chelsea versus Napoli. He’s quality in the middle. Presses intelligently, doesn’t just run at you. Waits for the right moment, then closes the space fast."

Demien filed that information away because knowing how individual players operated was different from watching video, and Gallagher’s direct experience meant something video couldn’t show, and he ate his eggs while Rice continued talking about North Macedonia’s defensive shape and how they transitioned from mid-block to counter-attack when they won possession.

Southgate walked through the restaurant at eight-fifteen and his eyes moved across the tables without stopping, and he didn’t sit or speak to anyone but his presence did the communicating because a manager checking breakfast on match day minus one was checking energy levels and focus and whether anyone looked off, and apparently everyone passed because he walked out after two minutes without saying anything.

The message was clear enough.

Team Bus — 8:45 AM

The bus departed the hotel at eight forty-five with the squad filing on in their training kits and taking seats without assigned positions because the hierarchy wasn’t rigid enough to enforce seating charts, and Demien sat near the middle beside Eze while Phillips took the row behind them and the bus pulled away from the River Irwell and merged into Sunday morning traffic that was light enough to make decent time.

The drive to Carrington took fifteen minutes through streets that Demien had seen on television during Manchester United coverage but never in person, and the city looked different from how Serie A cities looked because English architecture had its own character and Manchester had red brick and Victorian buildings mixed with modern construction in ways that Italian cities didn’t, and he watched it pass while Eze sat quietly beside him doing the same thing.

Carrington Training Centre

9:00 AM

The bus turned into Carrington and the security guard at the gate checked the vehicle before waving them through, and the road inside the facility ran past multiple training pitches where the grass was perfect and the lines were fresh and youth teams were running drills on the far fields while the first-team pitches sat empty and waiting.

The Manchester United crest appeared on the main building as the bus parked and Demien saw it properly for the first time in person rather than on screen, and the building was modern and professional in the way elite football facilities were professional, and this was where Ten Hag coached and where Rashford and Bruno and Casemiro trained every day and where he might be training himself if Thursday’s meeting went the right way.

The thought sat there for a second before he pushed it aside because today wasn’t about transfers, and he grabbed his bag and followed the squad off the bus into the building where the changing room had been prepared for England with kits laid out and training numbers assigned to each position.

His number twenty-six bib sat folded on the bench with his name card above it, and he changed with the rest of the squad while conversation stayed minimal and focused, and when he laced his boots—the same Predators he’d worn against Malta—his fingers went through the familiar pattern automatically while his mind stayed on the session ahead.

He grabbed a water bottle from the rack near the door and walked out toward the training pitches with the main group, and the temperature outside was sixteen degrees with light wind and cloud cover that looked stable enough that rain wasn’t likely, and the conditions were good for tactical work that required concentration rather than just physical output.

Training Pitch 1

9:20 AM

The squad jogged two laps of the main pitch and Demien settled into the rhythm beside the other midfielders, and Rice appeared on his left during the second lap without breaking stride while they moved at the steady pace that warmed muscles without burning energy.

"Old Trafford tomorrow," Rice said, and his breathing stayed even because two laps at this pace wasn’t work for someone at his fitness level. "Different beast from Ta’ Qali."

"Yeah," Demien said.

"Seventy-five thousand," Rice continued. "Louder than any Serie A ground you’ve played. San Siro’s big but this is louder when it’s full. Home crowd behind you. They’ll sing your name if you do what you did Friday."

"Biggest I’ve done is San Siro," Demien said. "Sixty thousand maybe when Milan played there."

"This is louder," Rice said. "Home crowd at Old Trafford for England is different. It’s inside your chest, not just your ears."

They finished the second lap and moved into the stretching circle where the physios were already set up with resistance bands and foam rollers, and the squad spread out into organized chaos while hamstrings and quads and groins and calves got the attention they needed before intensive work, and Demien went through his routine with the same focus he gave it at Atalanta because the routine worked regardless of which country’s crest was on his shirt.

Southgate and the coaching staff stood on the touchline with tactical boards and iPads in hand, and they were talking in the low intense way that coaches talked when planning sessions, and whatever they were discussing would become the session’s structure in about ten minutes.

Kane was doing his stretches three positions over and his eyes came up and found Demien while his hands worked through a quad stretch that looked deeper than comfortable.

"How you feeling?" Kane asked.

"Good," Demien said. "Ready."

"North Macedonia will press you harder than Malta," Kane said, and he switched legs without losing the thread. "First time you receive the ball, they’ll try to take it off you immediately. Set the tone early. Win that first duel."

"I will," Demien said.

Kane nodded once and went back to his stretches, and the exchange was brief but the message was clear because Kane didn’t waste words and when he told you something it was because it mattered, and the expectation was higher now after Malta which meant the standard he’d set Friday was the standard he’d be measured against tomorrow.

9:45 AM — Main Training Session

Southgate’s whistle cut through the low conversation and the squad gathered in a semicircle facing him and the coaching staff while a screen was being set up on the touchline by one of the FA’s media team, and when everyone was positioned Southgate spoke without preamble.

"Right," he said. "Tactical focus today. North Macedonia’s pressing system."

The screen came alive and showed North Macedonia’s defensive shape against Ukraine, and the formation was clear even from distance—four-four-two mid-block that compressed space and forced decisions.

"They press in a four-four-two mid-block," Southgate continued while pointing at the screen. "When we build from the back, their front two close down our center-backs. Their wingers tuck inside to press our pivots. Midfield stays compact. Forces us wide or forces errors centrally."

The video played and Demien watched their pressing traps develop, and the coordination was obvious because their triggers were specific—when the ball went to England’s fullback, their winger would press immediately while their midfielder shifted across to cover the passing lane back inside, and if England tried to play through the middle their front two would close the space so fast that the receiving midfielder had maybe two seconds to make a decision before the press arrived.

This wasn’t Malta.

Southgate let the video run through three examples before pausing it. "We need to be comfortable under this pressure. First touch has to be clean. Decision-making has to be instant. If you try to dribble out of their press without the space to do it, you’ll lose the ball."

He looked around the group and his eyes moved across faces without stopping on anyone in particular. "We’re going to replicate their system. First team attacks, second team defends using North Macedonia’s shape. Switch every ten minutes. By the end of this session, you’ll know exactly where they press, when they press, and where the space exists."

The squad split into two groups and Demien found himself in the second team initially, which meant he’d be defending using North Macedonia’s pressing structure before switching to attack, and learning a system by executing it was how you understood it properly because watching video showed you what to expect but actually doing it showed you why it worked.

The drill started with the first team building from the back and Demien positioned himself as the right-sided midfielder in the four-four-two, and his job was to tuck inside when the ball went to England’s left-back and press their pivot while cutting the passing lane back to the center-back, and the first time the pattern developed he executed it too slowly and Foden received the ball comfortably and played out of the press before Demien could close the space.