Goal on goal, win on win. Madrid were having a successful run in Texas to say the least, with the team winning both of their played games. Only one game now remained, which was against none other than their historic rivals Barcelona. The infamous El Classico.
They'd rented out a training center in Texas for the day, which was in order to get an extra session or two in before the thrilling game that lay ahead. Not only would it boost spirits, but it would also aid in getting each players fitness back in top shape. They needed this win, even if it was just a friendly.
The training center was a small indoor pitch often used for youth team clashes, the exterior making the building look like an old factory. At least that way they wouldn't gain much unwanted attention from press.
Echoing through the rusted building, frustrated and excitable shouts, angry groans and hopeful cheers were all present and persistent throughout the entire session. Whether a player was impatient with their own self or another, they gained frustration at some point.
Valeria stood pitchside, notebook in hand as she analysed every player individually. From their style of play to their devotion in training. It was interesting to her, being able to see the difference in certain players.
Ancelotti was set by her side, on a steel chair with one leg crossed over the other. He didn't have a notebook, yet his eyes scanned just as hers did, the difference being that he took mental notes rather than physical. He'd been doing this for so long, that he grew used to having phenomenal decision making and just as good memory.
His eyes were narrowed, his brows furrowing every so often once there was a rough tackle, bad pass, failed drill or missed shot. Everything you'd expect, of course. I'm sure you get it.
Something rather cocky or arrogant was that Ancelotti had already planned a night out right after the El Classico, at a bowling alley.
There was no going back with the booking as Carlo didn't plan to cancel it whether they lost or won. If they lost, they'd be stuck together for a night whilst moping. And if they won, they'd have an enjoyable night. It was a win-win in his book. Each way being a learning lesson for the team.
Kroos fired a powerful shot, immediately leaning over as the ball left his feet, his hand grasping at the back of his lower leg. He sat down on the artificial grass, raising his free hand with a pained expression on his face.
Valeria took quick notice of his signal and distress, stuffing the notebook into her pocket as she stepped onto the pitch. Others watched on, panting with their hands planted on their hips just as every other footballer does. By now, it was a thing that came naturally.
Luka had been a step ahead of the others, currently knelt down by Toni's side. He'd glanced up at Valeria, who joined him, also kneeling down. Yet she was on the other side of Toni. Her eyes flickered from one man to the other, before she kept her gaze on the distressed Toni Kroos.
"Where does it hurt?" Her tone of voice was gentle, and she made sure to keep it low as her hand began to press on specific pressure points in his lower leg.
It was her first time working medically on a member of the team, her heart beat beginning to pump and jolt a little. The job was still incredibly surreal to her. It was an opportunity a lot of people in the world could only dream of, always seeming to be out of reach. She was extremely grateful.
"There." He groaned, lips pursing. His leg had twitched when she pressed down on exactly where it was, gaining a nod of understanding from her.
Her eyes seemed to ask him for permission, before both of her hands now worked at the tension, with Luka patting and rubbing Toni's back reassuringly. She always loved seeing their bond on TV and through social media, and it was already so much better to her in real life.
Valeria's thumbs pressed into the same point, the man throwing his head back whilst his face screwed up in pain. "Luka, can you help me get him over there please?" She questioned politely, her head nodding back toward where she was stood before.
He nodded profusely, standing up and offering his friend a hand almost immediately. She too stood up, mirroring Modríc's action. Toni had then grabbed each hand with a firm grip, taking a deep breath before pulling himself up...
Training still yet hadn't resumed, with every other man on the pitch watching on intently. They seemed much too afraid to dare move an inch, as if they were the next to get injured.
Ancelotti blew his whistle, as if to tell them to get on with it already. They resumed drills all whilst Toni, Valeria and Luka were stood pitchside.
Soon enough, the training period came to an end as players jogged a final lap around the indoor pitch, an exhilarating amount of excitement circulating within them as the El Classico drew near. There was the doubt of not being able to win the 'friendly', yet when you're Real Madrid, failure is never optional. It's always been that way in the huge club, and no way was that going to change.
Everyone was advised to head back to their hotel and rest up, in order to have a clear conscience ahead of the game. Some were disappointed that they couldn't go out to see Texan nightlife, others glad as they preferred to sit in.
Valeria was among those who were glad. She'd had a pretty good day if you asked her, being able to actually work for the first time. Toni was now also perfectly fine, in tip top shape and beyond ready for the game tomorrow.
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