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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
...
And two major tests against the Netherlands and Italy were drawing closer with every passing hour.
The following morning began much earlier than the previous day.
The first full training session at St. George's Park had gone exactly as Gareth Southgate had hoped. The players had shaken off the fatigue from their club commitments, reconnected with one another, and taken the first steps toward preparing for two demanding international friendlies.
Now came the next stage.
The Netherlands.
Away from home.
At the Johan Cruijff Arena.
Although it was only a friendly on paper, nobody inside the England camp viewed it that way.
Matches against the Dutch never truly felt like exhibitions.
Too much history.
Too much quality.
Too much pride.
Just after seven in the morning, the corridors of St. George's Park gradually came to life.
Hotel doors opened one after another.
Players emerged carrying wash bags and backpacks, many of them still trying to wake up properly.
Walker stepped out of his room first before spotting Francesco walking down the corridor.
He stretched dramatically.
"I forgot international football involved mornings."
Francesco smiled.
"I think football in general involves mornings."
"It shouldn't."
"You've been saying that for years."
"And I'll keep saying it."
Harry Kane appeared from another room carrying a small suitcase.
"You two started already?"
Walker looked offended.
"We're having an important discussion."
"About?"
"Whether football should begin after lunch."
Kane laughed.
"I'm sure the managers around Europe will appreciate your suggestion."
Jordan Henderson joined them a few moments later.
"I've heard enough already."
"You've only been awake for two minutes."
"Exactly."
The small group continued toward the dining hall together.
Breakfast was relaxed.
Fresh fruit.
Eggs.
Porridge.
Toast.
Coffee.
Nutrition staff quietly moved around the room ensuring every player had what they needed before travelling.
Nobody rushed.
There was still plenty of time before departure.
At one table, Rashford and Sterling discussed Premier League fixtures waiting for them after the international break.
Nearby, Pickford and Pope debated goalkeeping gloves.
Walker, unsurprisingly, managed to involve almost everyone in conversation.
He looked toward Francesco.
"You packed enough clothes?"
"For two days?"
"Yeah."
Francesco looked confused.
"Of course."
Walker nodded seriously.
"I forgot socks once."
Kane raised an eyebrow.
"How do you forget socks?"
"I don't know."
"It happened."
Lingard laughed.
"That's probably the least surprising thing you've ever said."
Even Southgate smiled as he walked past the table.
"Everyone finished?"
Several players nodded.
"Coach leaves in thirty minutes."
Before leaving St. George's Park, players completed one final equipment check.
Training gear.
Recovery clothing.
Match suits.
Passports.
Nothing could be forgotten.
England's logistics staff had organised everything with impressive precision.
Large equipment cases disappeared into the luggage compartment of the team coach while staff carefully checked names against travel lists.
Francesco placed his suitcase beneath the bus before climbing aboard.
He chose a seat beside the window.
Walker dropped into the seat next to him moments later.
"I knew this would happen."
Francesco looked across.
"What?"
"We're travelling together again."
"You sound disappointed."
"I'm not."
"I just think we're spending too much time together."
Francesco laughed.
"You'll survive."
"I suppose I will."
One by one the rest of the squad climbed aboard.
Southgate waited until everyone had settled before taking his place near the front.
"Morning, gentlemen."
"Morning, boss."
"We should have a straightforward journey to the airport."
"As always, stay together."
"If anyone needs anything, speak to the staff."
Simple.
Professional.
Exactly what everyone expected.
The coach eased away from St. George's Park and headed toward Birmingham Airport.
The journey itself passed quietly.
Many players wore headphones.
Others looked through tactical notes distributed after the previous afternoon's meeting.
Francesco spent part of the journey watching short video clips of the Netherlands.
Their attacking transitions.
Their pressing shape.
The movement of their front players.
Walker glanced sideways.
"Homework already?"
"Just having a look."
"I'll wait until tonight."
"I thought you said you didn't like mornings."
"I don't."
"So why would I watch tactics in one?"
Francesco couldn't argue with that.
Security and boarding procedures were completed smoothly thanks to England's travelling staff.
Within an hour, the squad were seated aboard their chartered aircraft.
The atmosphere remained relaxed.
The players knew this routine well.
Francesco found himself sitting beside Walker once again.
Walker looked around the cabin dramatically.
"We're definitely spending too much time together."
Francesco laughed.
"You picked the seat."
"I know."
"I've made a terrible mistake."
Across the aisle, Kane smiled.
"I'll swap if you want."
Walker shook his head immediately.
"No."
"I've grown attached now."
The aircraft slowly pushed back from the stand before beginning its taxi toward the runway.
Outside, grey English skies stretched across the horizon.
Inside, conversations gradually faded as everyone settled into the short flight.
Soon the engines roared.
The aircraft accelerated.
Within seconds England were airborne.
The flight to Amsterdam wasn't especially long.
Many players used the opportunity to catch up on sleep.
Walker lasted barely ten minutes before closing his eyes.
Francesco looked across.
"I thought you weren't tired."
Without opening his eyes Walker replied,
"I'm resting professionally."
That earned a quiet laugh from Kane.
Francesco eventually returned to studying another short scouting report.
The Netherlands possessed enormous technical quality.
Players comfortable in possession.
Dangerous in transition.
Excellent movement between midfield and attack.
Friendly or not, England would need to perform well.
After reading for another twenty minutes, even Francesco closed the folder.
Sometimes the best preparation was simply allowing the mind to rest.
Less than ninety minutes later the captain announced their descent.
Outside the window, the Dutch countryside slowly came into view.
Green fields.
Canals.
Neatly arranged villages.
Then, gradually, the outskirts of Amsterdam appeared beneath scattered spring sunshine.
Walker opened one eye.
"We here already?"
Francesco nodded.
"Looks like it."
"Good."
"My neck was starting to complain."
The aircraft touched down smoothly.
A brief ripple of applause came from several passengers near the rear of the cabin.
Soon England taxied toward a private stand where airport staff were already waiting.
Disembarking was quick and efficient.
The cool Dutch air greeted the players as they stepped onto the tarmac.
Several airport workers paused briefly to watch England's squad walk past.
Some quietly recognised familiar faces.
Sterling.
Kane.
Walker.
Francesco.
Pickford.
But everyone respected the team's privacy.
After collecting their luggage and completing the necessary formalities, the squad emerged outside the terminal.
Waiting for them was England's team coach.
White with the Three Lions crest displayed proudly along its side.
Equipment was loaded beneath the bus while players climbed aboard.
Walker settled into his seat beside Francesco once again.
Francesco looked across with an amused smile.
"You really are following me."
"I've accepted my fate."
The coach slowly pulled away from the airport and merged onto the motorway leading toward central Amsterdam.
The journey through the Dutch capital gave several players an opportunity to admire the city.
Cyclists moved confidently through dedicated lanes.
Historic brick buildings lined the streets.
Canals reflected the afternoon sunlight.
Lingard looked out the window.
"Nice city."
"It really is," Henderson agreed.
"We don't get much time to explore though."
Walker sighed dramatically.
"Occupational hazard."
Southgate stood briefly near the front.
"We'll have plenty of work tomorrow."
"So enjoy the view today."
Nobody argued.
The schedule had already been circulated.
Arrival.
Recovery.
Dinner.
Team meeting.
Sleep.
Training at Ajax's training complex the following day.
Everything had been planned carefully.
After roughly forty minutes, the coach turned into the driveway of England's hotel.
A modern five-star building overlooking one of Amsterdam's quieter districts.
Hotel staff waited outside ready to welcome the travelling delegation.
As the bus stopped, players collected their bags before filing inside.
The reception area was spacious and elegant.
Large glass windows overlooked a landscaped courtyard while comfortable seating filled the lobby.
The atmosphere remained calm despite the arrival of England's entire squad.
FA staff had clearly coordinated everything beforehand.
Within minutes, a long table was arranged near reception.
Small envelopes had been placed neatly across its surface.
Each contained a room key card and accommodation details.
One of the FA travel coordinators smiled as the players gathered.
"Alright, lads."
"We've got your room assignments."
"Just come forward when your name is called."
The players formed a loose line.
Harry Kane stepped forward first, accepting his envelope with a quick thank you.
Jordan Henderson followed.
Then Pickford.
Sterling.
Rashford.
Lingard.
Each player checked their room assignment before heading toward the lifts with their luggage.
Eventually the coordinator looked down at the next card.
"Francesco."
He walked forward.
The staff member handed him the envelope.
"There you go."
"Thank you."
Francesco opened it immediately.
Room 614.
He had barely finished reading when another name followed.
"Kyle Walker."
Walker accepted his own envelope before opening it.
He glanced at the card.
Then at Francesco.
Then back at the card.
"Oh no."
Francesco laughed.
"What?"
"We're roommates."
Francesco looked down at his own assignment.
Room 614.
He smiled.
"So we are."
Walker sighed theatrically.
"They've done this on purpose."
"I'm convinced."
Nearby, Kane overheard.
"You'll survive."
Walker shook his head.
"I'm not worried about surviving."
"I'm worried he's going to make me tidy the room."
Francesco raised an eyebrow.
"I wasn't planning to."
"Now you definitely are."
Several nearby players laughed.
Even one of the hotel staff struggled to hide a smile.
Once every player had received their room cards, Southgate gathered the squad together in the centre of the lobby.
The conversations gradually faded.
The England manager waited until everyone was listening before speaking.
"Good work, gentlemen."
He glanced around the group.
"Travel's gone smoothly."
"Exactly how we wanted."
Several players nodded.
Southgate continued.
"This afternoon is yours to recover."
"I don't want anyone wandering around the city."
"We're here to prepare."
"Get settled."
"Rest."
"Hydrate."
"Recovery first."
His tone remained calm but clear.
"Tomorrow morning we'll travel to Ajax's training ground."
"That's where our real preparation begins."
"We'll have a full training session."
"Tactical work."
"Set-piece preparation."
"And we'll begin building specifically for the Netherlands."
The players listened attentively.
Everyone understood the importance of the next day.
The opening training session in England had been about reconnecting.
Tomorrow would be about the opponent.
Southgate smiled faintly.
"So for today…"
"Enjoy a quiet evening."
"Get plenty of sleep."
"We'll need fresh legs tomorrow."
"Understood?"
A chorus of voices answered together.
"Yes, boss."
"Good."
"I'll see everyone at dinner."
With that, the meeting ended.
Small groups naturally drifted toward the lifts.
Walker adjusted the strap of his bag before looking at Francesco.
"Come on then, roommate."
Francesco smiled as they walked toward the elevators together.
"Just remember."
"I'm not making your bed."
Walker laughed.
"I wasn't expecting five-star room service."
The lift doors opened with a soft chime.
The two Arsenal teammates stepped inside alongside several England colleagues, the quiet excitement of another international challenge beginning to settle in.
The next day, morning arrived quietly over Amsterdam.
The city was only just beginning to wake when the first hints of daylight filtered through the curtains of England's team hotel.
From the sixth floor, the canals below reflected the pale orange glow of the rising sun, while cyclists had already begun making their way through the streets with the effortless rhythm that seemed uniquely Dutch.
Inside Room 614, however, the peaceful atmosphere lasted only until Kyle Walker's alarm rang.
A loud, upbeat ringtone shattered the silence.
Francesco opened one eye.
Walker reached across the bedside table without looking, missed the phone entirely, and accidentally knocked a bottle of water onto the carpet.
"Oh, brilliant…"
Francesco couldn't help smiling.
"Good morning."
Walker finally silenced the alarm before sitting upright with messy hair and a thoroughly unconvinced expression.
"I've decided."
Francesco looked over.
"What now?"
"Mornings are still overrated."
"You reached that conclusion quickly."
"It only took one alarm."
Francesco laughed as he climbed out of bed.
The previous afternoon had been deliberately uneventful.
After settling into the hotel, the squad had enjoyed recovery treatments, attended a short tactical meeting before dinner, and spent the rest of the evening relaxing.
There had been no heavy football discussions.
Southgate wanted fresh minds as much as fresh legs.
Today, the real preparation would begin.
Walker stretched his arms above his head.
"What time is breakfast?"
"Seven-thirty."
He groaned dramatically.
"I knew you were going to say something early."
"You asked."
"I regret asking."
Twenty minutes later both Arsenal teammates had showered and changed into England travel gear before making their way downstairs.
The hotel restaurant was already busy.
Players sat together in small groups, chatting quietly while helping themselves from the breakfast buffet.
Fresh fruit.
Porridge.
Scrambled eggs.
Wholegrain toast.
Yoghurt.
Coffee.
Everything had been carefully planned by England's nutrition staff.
Harry Kane was already seated with Jordan Henderson when Francesco and Walker arrived.
Kane looked up.
"Morning."
"Morning."
Walker slid into his chair.
"I'd just like everyone to know I survived sharing a room with him."
Henderson smiled.
"Were we expecting anything different?"
"I wasn't sure."
Francesco shook his head.
"He spent five minutes trying to find the television remote."
"It was hidden."
"It was on the table."
"It blended in."
Kane burst into laughter.
"I don't think tables usually camouflage themselves."
Walker pointed his fork toward him.
"I expected more support from England's captain."
"You'll get none."
Around the restaurant the mood remained relaxed.
Marcus Rashford and Raheem Sterling discussed the previous night's Champions League highlights playing on one of the televisions.
Jordan Pickford was debating something with Nick Pope about goalkeeping gloves again.
Jesse Lingard somehow had half the room laughing before eight o'clock.
Despite representing rival clubs throughout the season, England camps always seemed to create an easy sense of togetherness.
Everyone understood the demands of club football.
Everyone knew the sacrifices required.
For a few days, they were simply teammates.
After breakfast the players returned briefly to their rooms to collect their training bags before making their way back down to the hotel lobby.
The FA staff had already assembled near the entrance.
Equipment bags were stacked neatly beside the revolving doors while members of the medical department checked attendance one final time.
Southgate stood near Steve Holland, speaking quietly with several analysts before turning as the squad gradually gathered.
"Morning, gentlemen."
The players answered almost together.
"Morning, boss."
Southgate glanced around the lobby, making sure everyone had arrived.
"Good."
"Our transport is waiting."
"We've got a productive morning ahead."
"No rush."
"But let's stay together."
Outside, England's team coach waited with its engine already running.
The familiar Three Lions crest stretched proudly along its side.
The Dutch morning air felt crisp but pleasant as the players climbed aboard.
Walker naturally found the seat beside Francesco again.
Francesco smiled as he looked across.
"I didn't even have to save you a seat."
"I've accepted this partnership now."
"You've accepted it?"
"I think we're officially travel companions."
"Only for another few days."
Walker nodded.
"Then we'll go back to annoying each other at Arsenal."
"I was wondering how long it would take you to mention that."
The coach eased away from the hotel before joining Amsterdam's morning traffic.
The drive toward Ajax's training complex offered another glimpse of one of Europe's most famous football cities.
Red-brick buildings lined the roads.
Cyclists passed effortlessly alongside cars.
Canals wound through quiet neighbourhoods.
Several players looked out of the windows while others quietly reviewed tactical notes handed out by England's analysts.
Francesco opened his folder once again.
This time the focus centred entirely on the Netherlands.
Expected formations.
Pressing triggers.
Attacking combinations.
Set-piece tendencies.
Southgate believed preparation created confidence.
Every player knew exactly what would be expected before they ever stepped onto the pitch.
Walker leaned slightly toward him.
"Homework again?"
"I'm reading."
"I noticed."
"You should try it."
"I prefer practical learning."
Francesco smiled.
"You mean watching videos later."
"Exactly."
The journey lasted just over half an hour before the coach turned through the entrance of Ajax's famous training complex.
Several immaculate pitches stretched into the distance.
Modern academy buildings overlooked the grounds, while the iconic Ajax badge appeared proudly on signs throughout the facility.
Even from the bus, it was obvious why the club had produced so many outstanding footballers over the years.
Harry Kane looked through the window.
"Nice place."
Henderson nodded.
"You can tell how much history there is."
The coach came to a gentle stop outside the main building.
Ajax staff greeted England's delegation politely before directing them toward the senior dressing-room facilities that had been prepared for their visit.
The atmosphere immediately became more focused.
The jokes naturally became quieter.
Training days carried a different rhythm.
Players collected their bags before following the coaching staff inside.
The dressing room itself was spacious and modern.
England training shirts had already been arranged above every locker.
Boots were unpacked.
Tape, drinks and GPS training vests had been prepared in advance.
Walker looked around appreciatively.
"Not bad."
Francesco placed his bag beside his seat.
"They've looked after us."
Within minutes the room filled with the familiar sounds that accompanied every training morning.
Zips opening.
Boots being laced.
Medical staff checking ankles.
Players chatting while changing into training gear.
White England training tops.
Navy shorts.
Long white socks.
The Three Lions crest immediately transformed the atmosphere.
Francesco always paused for a second whenever he pulled the shirt over his head.
Representing Arsenal meant everything to him.
Representing England carried a different emotion altogether.
Walker tightened his boots before looking over.
"You ready?"
Francesco nodded.
"Always."
A member of England's support staff appeared at the doorway.
"Five minutes."
"Let's head out."
The players grabbed water bottles before filing out together.
The Dutch sunshine greeted them immediately.
The training surface looked immaculate.
Not a blade of grass seemed out of place.
Southgate gathered everyone into a semicircle near the halfway line.
"Morning."
He waited until every conversation had stopped.
"The work starts properly today."
His eyes moved around the group.
"Everything we do over the next three days has one objective."
"The Netherlands."
"We respect them."
"They're technically excellent."
"They're organised."
"And if we switch off for even a few moments…"
"…they'll punish us."
Nobody argued.
The Netherlands possessed far too much quality to underestimate.
Southgate smiled slightly.
"So let's begin."
The session opened with another structured warm-up supervised by England's fitness coaches.
Light jogging.
Dynamic stretching.
Balance work.
Acceleration drills.
The workload remained carefully controlled.
With the match still a few days away, there was no need to overburden tired bodies.
Soon footballs appeared.
Immediately the tempo increased.
Passing triangles spread across the pitch.
Communication became louder.
"Set."
"Turn."
"Again."
"Good."
Francesco found himself working alongside Kane, Henderson, Rashford and Walker.
The passing moved at tremendous speed.
One touch.
Two touches.
Constant movement.
Lose concentration for a second and the ball was already somewhere else.
Southgate watched every exercise closely.
Occasionally he stopped play.
"Body position."
"Receive side-on."
"Quicker support."
Steve Holland added his own instructions.
"Better distances."
"Compress the space."
Nothing escaped their attention.
After half an hour the coaches introduced pressing drills designed specifically for the Dutch build-up.
The players rehearsed how England wanted to close passing lanes, when to step forward aggressively, and when to remain compact.
Kane organised the front line.
Henderson constantly communicated from midfield.
Walker and Chilwell worked repeatedly on defensive positioning against overlapping full-backs.
Francesco listened carefully to every instruction.
International football demanded rapid adaptation.
There wasn't time for months of repetition.
Every session mattered.
The morning passed quickly.
By the time Southgate finally blew his whistle to end training, almost two hours had disappeared.
"Excellent."
He nodded with satisfaction.
"Recovery this afternoon."
"We continue tomorrow."
The players applauded lightly before heading back toward the dressing room.
⸻
The pattern remained almost identical over the following three days.
Every morning began with breakfast together.
Every morning the team coach carried them from the hotel to Ajax's training ground.
And every day Southgate added another layer to England's preparation.
The second day focused heavily on possession.
England wanted to control the tempo whenever possible.
The coaching staff repeatedly worked on building attacks patiently before accelerating through the final third.
Sterling and Rashford practised wide combinations.
Kane dropped into deeper positions to link play.
Francesco spent long periods rehearsing movement between central defenders, timing runs carefully to stay onside before attacking space behind the Dutch back line.
Steve Holland occasionally stopped the exercises.
"Again."
"Better timing."
"Communication."
"Trust the pass."
The players repeated the movements until they became instinctive.
Walker jogged over during one drinks break.
"I think we've made that same run twenty times."
Francesco smiled.
"Probably more."
"You'd better score now."
"I'll try."
"You'd better."
Southgate overheard as he walked past.
"I'd settle for the movement."
Walker grinned.
"We'll give you both."
The England manager smiled before continuing toward the analysts.
⸻
Day three carried noticeably greater intensity.
With only forty-eight hours remaining until kick-off, tactical preparation became increasingly detailed.
Large magnetic boards appeared beside the pitch.
Analysts demonstrated likely Dutch defensive structures.
Set-piece specialists organised attacking corners.
Defenders rehearsed marking responsibilities.
For almost forty-five minutes, England worked exclusively on dead-ball situations.
Henderson delivered corners.
Trippier practised wide free-kicks.
Kane attacked the near post.
Stones and Maguire challenged aerially.
Francesco alternated between attacking the penalty spot and making delayed runs toward the far post.
Every movement had purpose.
Southgate remained constantly involved.
"Again."
"Sharper."
"Recover quicker."
When the tactical work finished, the squad played an eleven-versus-eleven practice match over reduced time.
The intensity surprised everyone.
Challenges became stronger.
Pressing became relentless.
Nobody wanted to lose.
Not even in training.
Walker eventually recovered possession before driving forward.
"Come on!"
Francesco immediately sprinted beyond the defence.
One perfectly weighted through ball later, he guided his finish into the bottom corner.
Southgate nodded quietly.
Exactly the movement they had been rehearsing all week.
Steve Holland scribbled another note.
The coaches exchanged brief smiles.
Preparation was beginning to translate naturally onto the pitch.
⸻
By the fourth morning, there was a subtle difference around the hotel.
The conversations had become calmer.
The joking still existed, but beneath it lay unmistakable focus.
Tomorrow was matchday.
Breakfast passed more quietly than usual.
Some players reviewed tactical notes.
Others simply enjoyed the final relaxed meal before competition resumed.
Walker looked toward Francesco.
"Nervous?"
"No."
"Excited?"
"A little."
Walker nodded.
"Same."
The final training session lasted barely an hour.
Its purpose wasn't fitness.
It was sharpness.
Quick passing.
Light tactical reminders.
Set-piece rehearsals.
Finishing exercises.
Nothing physically demanding.
Southgate wanted fresh legs.
Fresh minds.
Fresh confidence.
As the session drew to a close, he gathered the entire squad into a circle one final time.
The Dutch sunshine shone brightly overhead while a gentle breeze drifted across Ajax's immaculate training pitches.
The England manager looked at every player individually before speaking.
"We've had three excellent days."
His voice remained calm.
"Professional."
"Focused."
"Exactly what I hoped for."
Several players nodded.
Southgate continued.
"Tomorrow, all of this preparation means nothing…"
"…unless we take it onto the pitch."
Silence settled over the group.
"The Netherlands will test us."
"They'll have the support of their home crowd."
"They'll have quality all over the pitch."
"But so do we."
His gaze travelled slowly around the circle.
"I don't want anyone worrying about reputations."
"I don't want anyone worrying about headlines."
"I want us to play our football."
"Trust each other."
"Compete."
"And enjoy wearing this shirt."
He tapped the Three Lions crest on his own training top.
"That's why we're here."
The players applauded softly.
Walker glanced sideways toward Francesco.
"Well…"
Francesco smiled.
"Tomorrow."
Walker nodded.
"Tomorrow."
The squad began making their way back toward the dressing room.
Boots crunched softly against the gravel pathway.
Staff carried equipment bags behind them.
Tomorrow night, the Johan Cruijff Arena would be full.
Orange shirts would fill the stands.
The Dutch national anthem would echo around one of Europe's most iconic stadiums.
England's preparations were complete.
Three days of hard work.
Three days of tactical planning.
Three days of building chemistry.
Now only ninety minutes remained to discover how well that preparation would stand against one of Europe's finest footballing nations.
______________________________________________
Name : Francesco Lee
Age : 19 (2017)
Birthplace : London, England
Football Club : Arsenal First Team
Championship History : 2014/2015 Premier League, 2014/2015 FA Cup, 2015/2016 Community Shield, 2016/2017 Premier League, 2015/2016 Champions League, Euro 2016, Premier League Champion 2016/2017, 2016/2017 Champions League, and 2017/2018 Carabao Cup.
Season 17/18 stats:
Arsenal:
Match: 45
Goal: 56
Assist: 6
MOTM: 6
POTM: 0
England:
Match: 2
Goal: 2
Assist: 0
MOTM: 1
Season 16/17 stats:
Arsenal:
Match: 55
Goal: 87
Assist: 5
MOTM: 14
POTM: 1
England:
Match: 1
Goal: 1
Assist: 0
MOTM: 0
Season 15/16 stats:
Arsenal:
Match Played: 60
Goal: 82
Assist: 10
MOTM: 9
POTM: 1
England:
Match Played: 2
Goal: 4
Assist: 0
Euro 2016
Match Played: 6
Goal: 13
Assist: 4
MOTM: 6
Season 14/15 stats:
Match Played: 35
Goal: 45
Assist: 12
MOTM: 9