Few words had been exchanged between Saleem and Gio. Gio had no clue if he'd done enough for his coach to consider taking him to the game, even as a substitute. Gio was starting to lose faith he'd ever play, but the squad selection pleased the Triwizard faithfuls, as Giovanni Jurgen was nowhere to be found on the team sheet.
Disheartened and a bit upset with himself, Gio would be forced to watch his team get massacred 7-0 in the opening match. The Reds were seeking vengeance for the last upset at home they lost to the Turtles. It was horrible. Not only was the team beaten to every ball, they didn't register a single shot during the entire game. It was bad for the away fans, and even worse for the team that lacked both chemistry and understanding for one another.
Bringing together so many puzzle pieces wasn't always easy for coaches, and the Turtles set a record for most starters replaced with eleven. The entire team was new, and that had never been done before. As rare as it was, seven to nil was really rough. The fans at least expected some composure from the team, at least glimpses of hope... but the season was long, and they would be forced to endure the entire season before learning their fate. But Gio knew he could've helped. He absolutely knew deep down he could've orchestrated the offense better than Riyad Terstain.
While he didn't doubt Riyad's abilities, he was not a true number ten. He would serve much better on the wing or perhaps as a central midfielder. Gio wanted the match back. He wanted to see if he could do any better, like he knew he could, but he wasn't the coach, and the coach seemed to take very little interest in their starlet.
The following day at practice, Gio would turn up early to consult with Coach Saleem. He knocked on the sliding glass door.
"If it isn't Mr. Money himself, Coach Saleem is happy you're here!"
"You're... more spry than I would have expected after a big loss," Gio said as he slid the door open.
"We lost because we didn't have our secret weapon," Saleem defended.
"Me? You haven't even let me practice yet, sir," Gio responded.
"We've all seen the tapes of you slaughtering above your age group."
"I was actually here about you letting me practice with the lads."
"Gio, the time will come. You're six feet three, right?"
"Yes, sir."
"The doctors told me you shouldn't play underweight that much, so we're working on getting you to a proper playing weight. Doctor's words, not mine. I just want you to be healthy."
"So all I have to do is get to one hundred fifty pounds and you'll put me on the team sheet?"
"You'll be the first of the team sheet, Gio. We broke records with your signing, but first, we walk. I don't know what compelled you to drop so much weight, but I'm glad it's over," Saleem said as he got out of his chair and clapped Gio on the shoulder and started heading for the weight room, which was where everyone on the team would start that day.
"Every player I bought was to accentuate your talents, Gio. You're sixteen and teams are already being built around you."
"Even Riyad?" Gio squirmed under the shoulder grasp.
"Your substitute should you get injured," Saleem assured, "you just gotta get the medical all clear, bub. Even at one fifty, you'd still be a bit low. I really want to see you in the seventies."
"Seventies," Gio moaned, "I've always been thin. It's nothing to worry about, Coach."
"The medical staff told me to make you gain weight before we could play you. They precede even me, Giovanni."
"I understand, but if I could just practice with the team... sir, it's your choice, though."
"Giovanni, I can't. Just get to fifty, like the doctor requested, and I'll let you play. How far off are you?"
"I only need to gain fifteen more pounds," Gio sulked, it took him a month to gain the first twenty. He could miss seven more games at that rate, not to mention how rusty he'll be.
"The goal is for more than that. Just keep eating, son. You'll be fine. We played the top team in our opener, it only gets easier from here."
"Okay, Coach, I won't let you down."
"Giovanni! Eat like it's your job. Constantly be snacking, never stop eating. We're gonna need you."
Saleem finally stopped digging his nails into Gio's collarbone. He was clearly frustrated to be missing his star player, but he didn't seem worried.
As usual, Gio showed up to work just to eat and workout. He started eating double what Coach Cath suggested, and he was starting to put on bad weight, fatty weight. But he wanted to play, and as long as he was in shape, he didn't care if it was fat or muscle.
For five days in a row, he put on three pounds each day. And on the sixth day, he had finally reached target weight. His eating wasn't in vain, but he seemed sluggish now. But he'd achieved his goal, he was finally able to practice with the team after passing a medical.
He didn't even miss a single game, but yet again, he was left off the team sheet for the following day's match.
Gio was livid! He didn't even get taken as a sub, and he had to watch his team get battered by the Gorba Gorillas, who had established themselves as a top team. Gio watched as one, two, three, four, five goals were scored against his team. Two games had passed, and they had a minus twelve goal differential. Two games had passed, and they hadn't scored a single goal. His team looked pitiful. They needed an injection of youth to help find their backbone.
But the next day, Gio was back in training.
"Aye, lads," Riyad shouted, "the princess finally arrives. Don't get too close, he might explode."
Gio was hurt, but the coach intervened quickly, "that's not funny, Riyad. We had to replace an entire team because of this. We went through fifty players to get this team. Giovanni is not an omen."
Having never given thought to the validity of the oldest prophecy of the galaxy, Gio was starting to reflect. Could the fate of the galaxy really rest on his morbidity? Should he not die before his brain was fully formed, could there be consequences?
It was stuff he'd never considered, but magic was thought to be dead, and few believed it would even be possible for magic to still exist.
Gio did what he did every time this situation came up, he shied away from conflict and shut down. He had no better way to handle the situation. He hadn't developed any coping mechanisms to that point. But he got through his ruffled feathers and awaited Saleem to tell them what drills they were doing.
They did drills for a few hours, then had a possession match while Coach Mingus worked the two goalkeepers. It was a good time, for everyone but Gio, who wasn't allowed to do the on ball training exercises, so he left the field and ate at the cafeteria. He'd grown accustomed to their food, having eaten it nearly every day for the last month, and he didn't want it to go to waste.
Most players didn't eat at the cafeteria, unless mandated by the coaches, but Gio always found Gideon Cath stuffing his face with endless supplies of custard. Cath, in truth, was much smaller than he should've been with the way he ate. He should've been nearing a quarter ton. But Cath worked out on his own time— that no one would see.
All Gio could do was eat, which was starting to send him spiraling down a staircase of depression. Each day he wasn't allowed to train, he became more glum.
