Gold Rush

The Final Push

6 Months Later

3 Days before the game

'Doctor Rhodes you are a cruel one... I'll be telling Jack', Sophie laughed at Kevin De Bruyne's statement as she carried on manipulating his leg to ensure there was no resistance.

'Kevin', she paused with a grin, 'we need to ensure your knee is fit for purpose.. ready for this last game. Three days until the final push.'

He nodded, he understood the weight of the situation and that the pressure was on, not just for the players, but for everyone.

There was one game between Manchester City and the Premier League trophy. They were already sitting at the top of the table but only just, all they had to do to secure it was beat Aston Villa, or for Liverpool to lose.

The injuries came in thick and fast towards the end of the season, players were tired, bruised and battered. They were down a handful of key names, and a few of the ones that remained had 'niggles', as Pep liked to call it.

'Hey Doc', Jack's voice loudly called her from the other side of the treatment room as he gestured to the little boy in-front of him pretending to bandage his leg, 'We've got a new physio'.

'He's got to be better than our current physio', Kevin yelled over with one eye on Harry who was rehabilitating Ruben Dias across from them, causing the room to erupt into laughter.

She wasn't sure why Jack was sat in nothing but his boxers, but my God she loved this team.

'Ahh see!', Jack continued as he high-fived Phil Foden's child, 'All better thanks t'you Ronnie lad'.

Her heart swelled watching Jack interact with children. He wasn't uncomfortable around them and the kids just loved him. They adored him for his daft humour and simple way of wording things, which made them feel grown up and acknowledged.

She swore she saw Jack's bright hazel eyes soften as he watched little Ronnie run over to his dad, who proudly scooped him up with one arm.

'That's my boy', Phil smiled, 'Do we think Uncle Jack can move from the bench now?'

'Oi Philipa!'

Kevin cleared his throat, making Sophie look down at her hands that had somehow settled themselves on De Bruyne's knee.

'Sorry...was in my own world for a sec', She carried on strapping him up, ready for training.

'It's okay.. I see that look on your face', he spoke quietly and very matter-of-fact as always.

'What look?', Sophie asked, puzzled.

'Michele radiated the same one before we had our three'

'Absolutely not', she lied, 'and you know Jack, it would be like having two children'

'True', Kevin shrugged, unable to argue with her.

*

Game Day

03:00AM

He'd been tossing and turning all night, unable to slow down his pounding heart and racing thoughts.

Jack was usually pretty good at calming himself down. But this situation was totally unique to him. Being in the final of the Premier League was nerve-wrecking enough without it being against Aston Villa, his old boyhood club.

Whichever way he looked at it, he'd be getting ripped to shreds.

If City don't win, people will say he moved for nothing, but if they do win, it won't count because they didn't work for it. He saw the comments on Twitter (namely from faceless profile icons).. Manchester City - a team built on money.