The press conference was packed—far more than usual for a third-division match. Ethan sat at the table, flanked by CD Almazora's media officer, as cameras clicked and reporters jostled for position.
"Coach Reyes," one asked, "your tactics last week were… unconventional. Do you think they'll work against Atlético Sagunto?"
Ethan leaned into the mic. "Football isn't about convention. It's about evolution. And we're just getting started."
The room buzzed.
Across town, in a more polished press room, stood his next opponent: Coach Martín Delgado. A former youth coach at Valencia, Delgado was known for his rigid 4-3-3, his disdain for flair, and his obsession with possession. He was a purist—disciplined, methodical, and deeply skeptical of innovation.
Ethan remembered him from online forums. Delgado had once mocked Ethan's FIFA tactics as "video game nonsense." Now, they were about to meet on the real pitch.
The mind games began early.
Delgado's pre-match comments were barbed: "Football isn't a sandbox for experiments." "Let's see how long the circus lasts." "I prefer tactics that exist outside of PlayStation."
Ethan didn't flinch. He welcomed the fire.
At training, he doubled down on his system. He introduced vertical passing drills, third-man runs, and pressing triggers. His players were starting to believe—not just in the tactics, but in themselves.
Matchday arrived.
The stadium was tense. Fans sensed the stakes. This wasn't just a game—it was a clash of ideologies.
Delgado's team dominated possession early, stroking the ball around like a metronome. But Ethan's side waited. Patient. Poised.
In the 27th minute, it happened.
A trap was sprung. A misplaced pass. A lightning counter. Goal.
1–0 to Almazora.
Delgado's jaw tightened.
Ethan didn't celebrate. He just turned to the away bench and smiled.
The purist had been cracked.