"It looks like a coffin," Arthur said, poking the metal tube with his cane. "A very expensive, futuristic coffin. Are we burying players in here if they play badly?"
Michael laughed. "No, Arthur. This is the future. It is a Whole Body Cryotherapy Chamber. It uses liquid nitrogen to cool the air to minus one hundred and ten degrees Celsius."
Arthur's eyes widened. "Minus one hundred? Michael, we are trying to recover their muscles, not turn them into frozen peas."
"Trust me," Michael said, patting the sleek silver side of the machine. "Three minutes in here reduces inflammation, speeds up recovery, and releases endorphins. It is exactly what the squad needs. The winter schedule is brutal. We have eight games in December. We need fresh legs."
The door to the medical wing opened. The players walked in, fresh from a muddy training session. They were chatting and laughing, shoving each other playfully.
Then they saw the machine.
The room went silent.
