Chapter 56: Chapter 55: First Team [I]
Monday, July 28th, 2022 - Centro Bortolotti Training Complex
Demien walked through the gates of the training complex at quarter to seven in the morning, the sun already warm against his skin while his backpack hung over one shoulder and his muscles still felt tight from the week off.
The walk from the apartment had taken fifteen minutes, just long enough to wake him up properly and settle the nerves that had been building since he’d opened his eyes at six.
First team training.
Today it started.
He headed toward the U23 building first, where Coach Rossi had his office, because he still needed to report back about the assignment from last week.
Other players were arriving too, most of them U23 squad members he recognized from the trials and the matches against Como and Fiorentina.
"Demien!"
He turned and saw Ricardo jogging toward him with a wide grin, and behind him were Parisi and a few others from the U23 squad.
"Hey man," Ricardo said, reaching him and pulling him into a quick hug. "Been long! Congratulations on signing the contract, bro. Everyone was so happy when we heard the news."
"Thanks," Demien said, smiling back. "Appreciate it."
"First team too," Parisi added, shaking his hand. "That’s crazy. You’re moving up fast."
"Just trying to keep my head down and work," Demien replied.
They talked for a few more minutes, catching up on what everyone had done during the break, before Demien excused himself and headed inside toward Coach Rossi’s office.
He knocked twice on the door.
"Come in," Rossi’s voice called from inside.
Demien pushed the door open and stepped into the small office. Coach Rossi looked up from his desk where papers and tactical diagrams were spread out, and his face broke into a warm smile.
"My boy Demien!" Rossi stood and came around the desk to shake his hand firmly. "How are you?"
"I’m good, Coach. Really good."
"Sit, sit." Rossi gestured to the chair across from his desk and both of them sat down. "I’m so happy you signed with Atalanta. You earned it. Really earned it. I hope to see you grow here and make something special of your career."
"Thank you, Coach. That means a lot."
Rossi leaned back in his chair and studied him for a moment. "So why are you here? You’re meant to be with the first team for training this morning, no?"
"I am," Demien said, sitting forward slightly. "But I wanted to come report to you first about the assignment you gave me. Watching the Atalanta match on Saturday."
"Oh, that." Rossi waved his hand dismissively with a small laugh. "No need for a formal report, Demien. I just wanted you to watch and see what it’s like playing for the first team. Get a feel for the level, the intensity, the way they move. That’s all."
"Oh," Demien said, a bit surprised. "Well, I saw enough. The first team is a different type of team on its own. The way they’re coordinated, the way they press and move together... it’s another level entirely."
Rossi nodded with approval in his eyes. "Good. That’s exactly what I wanted you to understand. Now you know what’s expected when you step on that pitch with them." He stood up and Demien did the same. "Go on now. Don’t be late for your first day."
"Thanks, Coach."
They shook hands again, and Demien left the office, his heart starting to beat faster as he walked out of the U23 building and headed across the complex toward the first team training center.
The building was bigger, newer, with the Atalanta crest displayed prominently above the entrance.
Demien pushed through the doors and immediately felt the difference.
Everything was more professional, more serious, the air itself seeming to carry weight.
A man in his forties with a clipboard spotted him almost immediately and walked over with a knowing smile.
"You must be Demien Walter," the man said in accented English, extending his hand. "I’m Giorgio, the team coordinator. We’ve been expecting you. Come with me."
Giorgio led him down a hallway lined with photos of past Atalanta teams and trophy cabinets displaying the club’s history, and they stopped outside the first team locker room.
"Ready?" Giorgio asked.
Demien nodded.
Giorgio pushed the door open and stepped inside, Demien following behind.
The locker room was larger than the U23 one, with individual wooden cubicles for each player arranged around the room, and the smell of liniment and fresh laundry hung in the air.
Several players were already there, in various stages of changing into training gear, and conversations paused as Giorgio and Demien entered.
"Everyone," Giorgio called out, his voice carrying easily through the space. "This is Demien Walter, our new signing. He’s joining the first team squad starting today."
Heads turned toward him.
Marten de Roon, the captain, was the first to walk over. He was a tall Dutchman with a calm presence and intelligent eyes, and he extended his hand with a welcoming smile.
"Welcome to Atalanta," de Roon said in clear English. "Demien, right?"
"Yes. Thank you, Captain."
"Just Marten is fine." De Roon turned to the room. "Everyone, make him feel at home."
Rafael Tolói came over next, the Brazilian defender who’d marshaled the defense on Saturday, followed by Davide Zappacosta, then Mario Pašalić, and soon Demien was shaking hands with half the squad while names and faces blurred together in a wave of welcomes and congratulations.
"Good to have you," someone said.
"Heard good things about your trial," another player added.
"You’re young, work hard and you’ll do well here."
Giorgio guided him to an empty locker near the back corner of the room, between two other spots that were currently unoccupied.
"This is yours," Giorgio said, opening the wooden door to reveal shelves and hooks inside. "Your training kit is already here." He pulled out folded training gear—shorts, shirts, socks, all in Atalanta’s colors with the club crest embroidered on the chest. "Change and be ready to head out in ten minutes."
"Thank you."
Giorgio patted him on the shoulder and left.
Demien set his bag down and started changing, pulling on the training shirt that felt lighter and better quality than anything he’d worn before, and as he laced up his boots someone approached from his left.
"Demien Walter."
He looked up and saw a lean player with sharp features and kind eyes, older than most of the squad, maybe late twenties.
"I’m Ruslan Malinovskiy," the player said in slightly accented English, extending his hand. "Attacking midfielder. I’ve been asked to be your mentor while you settle in."
Demien shook his hand. "Nice to meet you. Thanks for doing this."
Malinovskiy smiled and leaned against the locker beside him. "No problem. Listen, now that you’re here, you need to give it everything you have. Training with the first team is different from what you’re used to. The pace, the intensity, the expectations—it’s all higher."
"I understand."
"I have to say," Malinovskiy continued, his expression thoughtful, "I was shocked when I heard a trialist was signed directly to the first team. That almost never happens. But Gasperini saw something in you, and he’s rarely wrong about these things, so I’m happy you’re here."
"I’ll do my best not to disappoint."
"Good." Malinovskiy clapped him on the shoulder. "Stick with me today. I’ll help you through the sessions."
They finished changing and joined the rest of the squad as they filed out of the locker room, through another corridor, and out onto the training pitch.
The grass was perfect, the lines freshly painted, and the morning sun cast long shadows across the field while the coaching staff waited near the center circle.
Demien’s heart hammered in his chest.
Then the system chimed softly in his mind.
「DAILY MISSION AVAILABLE」
「Complete Today’s Training Session」
「Reward: 10 TP」
He dismissed the notification and focused on the present as Gasperini’s assistant blew a whistle.
"Alright, let’s go! Warm-up, two laps, then stretching!"
The squad started jogging around the pitch in a loose group, and Demien fell in beside Malinovskiy while scanning for familiar faces.
He spotted Moretti a few strides ahead and jogged up to him.
"Moretti!"
His former U23 teammate turned and grinned. "Demien! Finally made it to first team training, yeah?"
"Yeah. How long you been here?"
"Started last week. Still getting used to it." Moretti’s expression turned sympathetic. "Fair warning, it’s brutal."
"I’m starting to see that."
They completed the laps together, falling back into the easy rhythm they’d developed during U23 training, and Demien felt grateful to have at least one familiar face in this new environment.
The jogging wasn’t particularly taxing, just enough to get blood flowing and muscles warming up, but Demien could already sense the difference in intensity from the way the senior players carried themselves, the focus in their movements even during something as simple as a warm-up lap.
After the second lap, they gathered in a large circle at the center of the pitch.
"Dynamic stretching, let’s go!" one of the assistant coaches called out. "High knees, twenty meters!"
The squad began moving through the drill, knees pumping up toward their chests as they moved forward in synchronized chaos, and Demien matched the pace while his heart rate began climbing.
"Butt kicks!"
He switched immediately, heels kicking up toward his glutes with each stride, and already he could feel his hamstrings warming properly.