Los Angeles | 2009
Bradley's POV
The weekend was here, and I had plans. They weren't party plans, or even plans to hang out with Alex, not yet. They were training plans. I sat at my desk, my dad's old training regimen laid out next to a fresh page in my notebook. I was adapting it, modifying it. His plan was designed to forge soldiers. Mine needed to forge a team.
I had instructed Leo, David, Patrick, Adam, James, Marcus, and Joshua to come to my place for conducting training. On the first day of school, I had mapped out how good everyone was on the court, and to be perfectly honest, all of them were laughably incompetent, apart from Leo and David. Adam was a decent point guard but lacked ambition. Joshua was big but slow to react. The others were just bodies, raw potential with no discipline. Patrick showed promise but that needed to be unearthed through training.
The school tournaments would start in mid-October. I planned on winning that thing. We had a month and a half. Forty-five days to turn a collection of individuals into an unbreakable unit.
I closed the notebook, the mission parameters set. I got up from bed and went into the shower, letting the hot water wake my muscles, my mind already on the court. After getting dressed in my practice gear, I headed down for breakfast. The smell of coffee filled the kitchen. Mom was sitting at the island, scrolling through news on her tablet.
"Morning, honey," she said, looking up with a smile. "What are your plans for the day?"
"Team practice," I said, grabbing a bowl for cereal. "The whole team's coming over. First of many."
"The whole team?" she asked, a flicker of surprise in her eyes. "I thought it was just you and your friends."
"They are my friends," I said, then clarified. "But they're also my team. And if we're going to win the championship, they need to start acting like it. I'm running them through Dad's old conditioning drills today."
She winced theatrically. "Oh, you poor boys. Don't push them too hard, Bradley. They're your friends, not your soldiers."
"Sometimes there's not a lot of difference," I said, my tone dead serious. She just shook her head with an amused, slightly worried smile.
Just as I finished eating, the doorbell rang. It was Leo and Patrick.
"Morning, Captain!" Leo greeted me with a mock salute.
"Morning, Brad," Patrick added, a quiet, friendly nod.
"You guys ready for hell?" I asked with a grin.
"Dude, I was born ready," Leo shot back. "Unlike David. Where is that guy?"
"Algebra homework," David's voice announced as he walked up the driveway, a half-eaten breakfast burrito in his hand. "That last problem was a killer. I was up half the night."
"It wasn't that bad," Patrick said as we all walked inside. "You just had to carry the denominator."
"See?" David said to me, gesturing with his burrito. "This is what I'm talking about. You guys are on another level. My brain doesn't do denominators before 9 AM."
The squeak of sneakers and the rhythmic, pounding beat of four basketballs on the hardwood was the only music on the court. We were half an hour into the grueling drills from the training regimen that my dad had previously made, and the air was already thick with the metallic tang of sweat. We were a single, focused unit, moving through the exercises with grim determination. Patrick had troubles with skillset exercises but since he had played rugby he was athletic enough to keep up during this warm up phase.
The sound of the side gate sliding open was a jarring intrusion.
I looked over to see Joshua, Adam, James, and Marcus walking in. They were laughing, sipping from sodas, moving with the lazy, relaxed air of a Saturday morning hangout.
I put the whistle I'd been using to my lips and blew a single, sharp, piercing blast. Everything stopped. Bradley halted everything as he approached them.
The four of them stopped, the smiles fading from their faces as they saw the look on mine. I could see the group show signs of nervousness as they took in our sweat-drenched jerseys and the disciplined intensity of the court.
"You're late," I said, my voice flat and cold.
Adam, the ringleader for the group, was the first to recover, a lazy, unconcerned smile returning to his face. "It's the weekend, man," he said with a shrug. "We didn't want to wake up so early."
I let Adam's lazy excuse hang in the air for a moment, my gaze sweeping over the other three. "Am I to assume that he speaks for all of you?"
The question was heavy with implication. I saw them all show signs of breaking, but it was Marcus that stepped away from the others.
"I was with my Grandpa, Brad," he said, his voice low and laced with sadness. "He has Alzheimer's, so I take him out for a walk every weekend. It's the only time I really get to see him. I'm sorry. I won't be late again."
The anger in my chest cooled instantly, replaced by a pang of regret. "I'm sorry, Marcus," I offered as a sincere apology. "I was hasty. I didn't think about your circumstances."
"It's alright. I'm here now," he said, visibly perking up.
I nodded to him, then my cold gaze settled back on the remaining three. "Do you all have appropriate reasons for being late, too?"
They didn't. The silence was their confession, and it solidified my resolve. The humiliation they suffered during the try-out wasn't enough.
"Adam, I'm surprised you even showed up at all," I said, my voice dripping with condescension. "What's the point? You don't really like the game; you just like the attention it gets you. You can't play any other position, and with me here you won't play more than a quarter in any of our real games. Why are you here?"
I saw his face distort with rage, his fist clenching so hard that the soda can in his hand crumpled, spilling its contents onto my court. Bad move bitch.
"Who do you think you are?! I have been on this team for two years! Just because—"
"Wipe it," I said, my voice cutting his rant off dead.
"Whaa—" he said incredulously. I stepped into his personal space, my eyes locked on his.
"The only thing that can dirty my court is the sweat of players giving their all," I said, each word slow and cold. "You spilling your soda on it is a violation of my temple." I raised my voice just enough to make it a clear command. "WIPE IT."
He flinched and stepped back. David walked over and silently handed Adam a wiping cloth. Adam took it, his gaze flickering between me and the floor before he finally lowered his eyes and cleaned the spill.
I changed my tone immediately, my voice becoming calm and reasonable. "Now, that wasn't so hard, was it? As long as we have an understanding where we show respect to each other, we won't have problems, guys. I respect your time, so you respect mine." I looked at all three of them. "Do we have an understanding then?"
They just gulped and nodded.
"I said, DO WE UNDERSTAND?!" I shouted, the drill sergeant's bark I'd learned from my dad echoing off the walls.
"YES, SIR!!" Joshua, Adam, and James all said stammeringly but in unison.
"Good. Now go get changed. We've wasted enough time. And don't be late tomorrow," I said, the warning clear. As they moved, I stopped Adam. "Not you, Adam. You stay. We need to talk."
He turned to look at me and there was some residual anger in his voice but I could care less for his tantrums right now.
"Listen dude you really need to pull your shit together; I know that you like playing because of the popularity it brings you and I get that. Everyone has their motivations but you seriously need to decide whether you are doing this for show, or do you want to tangibly make a difference in your play?" I told him.
"I don't like you Brad" he said hatefully.
"I know that, but it isn't the answer to my question. You don't have the capability to supplant me Adam, try as you might. I know you arranged this stunt to assert your authority, but it only proves to me how wrong you are for the team. The others no matter how little, like the game and even though they aren't that great in it, they are at least willing to put in some effort. You on the other hand are good at the game but only see it as a means to an end. Let me disabuse you of that notion. You are not invited here unless you wish to succeed not for yourself but also for the team. I want you to leave the team and if you don't I will phase you out no matter what" I gave him the ultimatum.
"You cant do this, only the coach decides who stays" he retorted.
"He does," I agreed. "And who do you think he's going to listen to? Me, or the kid who sometimes shows up for practice with paltry skills? You overestimate your value, Adam. And that's why you can't be here. You can leave now, or I will phase you out. Either way, you're done."
He didn't say anything, just glared at me for a long moment, then turned and walked out of the gate.
I walked back to Leo, David, and Patrick, who were talking among themselves, their conversation stopping as I approached.
"Don't you think that was going a little too far?" David asked, his expression serious and concerned.
"It may have been," I admitted. "But I needed to do something immediate to establish the lessons that they refused to learn after the tryouts. The only people who have a place on this team are the ones who are dedicated. Adam was only interested in the popularity being part of the team brought him, so he had to go."
"I get your point," Leo chimed in, "though you could have warned us you were going to do this."
"I actually wasn't," I confessed. "I had initially planned on giving him a chance this weekend, but when I saw his attitude today, I just didn't want him here anymore."
"You're quite intense, mate," Patrick added, his gaze analytical. "No offense, but it can be scary sometimes."
"Fear is a good motivator, Patrick," I supplied.
"Until it isn't," he retorted simply.
I stilled for a second. He had a point. "Until it isn't," I said, a small, appreciative chuckle escaping me as I placed an arm on his shoulder. "I'll temper it. But thank you, all of you, for standing by me."
"All day, man," Leo said, bumping his fist to my shoulder.
David just gave me a firm nod. "Me too." Patrick followed suit.
With the dissent settled and our core unit solidified, I turned my attention to the remaining players as they entered. "Let's start over!" I yelled, my voice echoing in the suddenly quiet court.
What followed was a systematic dismantling of their pride, using my Dad's training regimen as the hammer. I had Joshua, James, and Marcus—and Patrick was not spared—run the most grueling physical drills I knew. We started with endless Defensive Shuffles back and forth across the court until their legs burned. Then came the Bear Crawls, a primal, muscle-shredding exercise that had them groaning in agony.
While they struggled, Leo, David and I did our best to instruct and help them. "Lower, Joshua! Stay low!" I'd command. "Faster, James!" Leo would bark. David was surprisingly good at it, using his own frame to demonstrate the proper form for boxing out. The three that came late were clearly not in any athletic shape as they easily buckled under the stringent demands of the regimen, moaning about how tough and taxing it was on their body. I did not let them rest though, this was a crucible and they were being forged into winners.
After a while, Patrick, too, began feeling drained, his raw athleticism no match for this level of targeted conditioning. I watched them all, pushing them to their absolute limit, breaking down their lazy habits and their preconceived notions of what a practice was.
By the time practice ended in the afternoon, all the new trainees were lying on the court floor as if their souls had left their bodies. They were sprawled on the polished hardwood, drenched in sweat, chests heaving, not a single one of them able to speak. Leo, David, and I were tired, but we were still standing, looking down at the wreckage. It was a good start.
"Alright boys that's all for today. You can pick yourselves up and get some food at my place and then we can play some video games if you'd like" I announced.
The way they stared at me when I offered them food and games it was priceless.
"What I can be kind when we are of the court you know. We are team, not savages" I winked at them. They all groaned but eventually got up.
Leo, David and I chuckled as we made our way back to the house. This was fun.
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There was some issue with Webnovel it seems to be resolved now thats why I posted the chapter late. Also guys if you could leave a review it will really help me with outreach and appeal for the novel.