The sky over Middlesbrough was a heavy shade of English gray, the kind that seemed to press down on the streets and the hearts of those walking beneath it. The River Tees flowed sluggishly past old industrial docks, and in the distance, the Riverside Stadium stood like a silent witness to both triumph and decline.
Jake Ashbourne stepped through the gates of Middlesbrough's training complex, his boots hanging from his shoulder. He had read enough about the club to know what he was walking into — a side that once dared to dream big, a side that had danced in Europe, beaten Arsenal for a cup, reached a UEFA Cup final… and now fought for survival in the second tier of English football.
The security guard at the entrance barely looked up from his clipboard when Jake explained himself. "Trialist? Maguire's recommendation? Head on through."
Inside, the place smelled of wet grass and ambition. The first team was already deep into a training drill, voices ringing out across the pitches.
Head coach Morrow stood with arms crossed, eyes sharp as a hawk's. A former club man through and through, he had seen enough false promises and overhyped youngsters to know that only reality mattered. Maguire's message had been clear: The boy's fundamentals are raw, but his passing vision… it's something else.
Still, Morrow had heard that before.
"Alright, we'll give you a run," Morrow said, nodding toward Jake. "Strip in. You're slotting in as the midfield pivot. Your side's in a 4-3-3. Keep us ticking."
Jake laced up and jogged onto the pitch. The assistant blew his whistle, and the intra-squad scrimmage resumed.
The ball came to Jake early. His first touch was… not elegant. A bobble, a quick adjustment. Morrow's brow furrowed. He'd seen that touch before — on Sunday league pitches, not in the Championship. Jake turned and played it safe, recycling the ball back.
The next few minutes didn't inspire confidence. Jake's positioning was intelligent, his head on a swivel, but the passes were conservative. For a man touted as a "midfield talent," this was… ordinary.
Morrow exhaled slowly. Maguire's pulled one over on me.
But Jake wasn't rushing. He was scanning, calibrating — letting the flow of the game sink into him. Every step, every turn of an opponent's shoulders, every subtle shift in a teammate's run began to arrange itself in his mind like chess pieces moving into place.
Then he saw it.
Space. The kind of space that opened for only a heartbeat before collapsing again. Jake raised his hand, calling for the ball.
The nearest teammate hesitated — Jake had looked clumsy so far — but a glance at Morrow's bench and a quick nod from the assistant convinced him. The pass came in.
Defenders pressed. There was no time for a touch. Jake didn't want one. He swung his right foot, the outside of his boot cutting under the ball with an unnatural precision. The ball bent away from the press, curling into the channel between the center-backs.
It wasn't a shot. It wasn't a clearance. It was an invitation.
Middlesbrough's towering striker, Onajike, burst between defenders, meeting the ball mid-air. One clean header. Net.
1–0.
For a moment, everyone froze — then Onajike turned, grinning. "Hell of a pass!" he shouted, thumping Jake on the shoulder.
On the touchline, Morrow's eyebrows shot up. The ball hadn't been lofted — it had been threaded through the air. A curved pass from the outside of the foot, dropping exactly where the forward's stride would meet it. That kind of vision didn't belong to someone who'd just bumbled their first touch.
Morrow's mind flickered with possibilities. Is this kid really…
"Keep playing through him !" Morrow barked. "If you see him free, give him the ball. Run for him. Trust the pass !"
The assistant leaned toward him. " that wasn't luck , was it ?"
"No," Morrow muttered, eyes fixed on Jake. "That was the kind of thing you can't teach."
Jake adjusted his armband, breathing steadily. He wasn't here to survive a trial. He was here to make the pitch his board, the players his pieces, and the game his checkmate.
The rest of the squad was about to learn exactly what that meant.