The office was quiet except for the faint scratch of a pen across paper.
Assistant coach Nolan sat hunched over his desk, sleeves rolled up, reviewing notes from the previous night's match.
His handwriting was quick but deliberate, numbers and arrows bleeding into little sketches of player movements.
From the corner of the room, his assistant leaned against the filing cabinet, glancing at a sheet on her clipboard.
"Coach," she said, breaking the silence.
"We've just had a request come through. Someone's asking for one of the tapes, player footage, stats, the usual bits of info from clubs looking to sign players, but this seems like it's coming from an individual."
Nolan didn't look up at first, only gave a small nod.
"Send it over to me."
She tapped the keys on her laptop, and within seconds, Nolan's inbox pinged.
He set his pen aside, leaned back in his chair, and pulled his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose before clicking the new mail.
