Madrid, Spain: Real Madrid Training Ground
The next morning, the session had been brutal.
Three hours of high-intensity drills, sprints, pressing and tactical work had left most of the players drenched in sweat, their legs heavy and their lungs burning.
But the mood in the recovery area was light. Players stretched and laughed and traded jokes, and the tension of the session faded into the easy camaraderie of men who had fought together and won together.
Kazuki Yamada sat on a bench with a towel draped over his shoulders and his expression calm. At twenty-eight, he was one of the older players in the squad, a leader whom the younger ones watched more closely than they let on.
Across from him sat Nico Paz.
The Argentine midfielder was quiet, as he always was.
He didn't talk much, and he didn't joke around, but when he played he became something else entirely, a conductor and a creator who could change a match with a single touch.
