Time moved quickly, almost too quickly for Malik to notice.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, and somewhere along the way, the camp began to feel less like a strange, intimidating place and more like a second home. The fear that once sat in his chest slowly gave way to focus.
What surprised everyone wasn't just that Malik understood the lessons.
It was how fast he did.
Things that took others several sessions to fully grasp seemed to settle in his mind almost immediately. He didn't just memorize concepts, he felt them. Shapes on the board became moving pictures in his head. Arrows turned into real players running, checking shoulders, opening passing lanes. He started to see football the way a conductor sees music, not as noise, but as patterns and rhythm.
In video analysis, while others focused on the ball, Malik watched everything else.
He noticed the slight angle of a winger's body that blocked one passing lane and opened another.
He caught the moment a center-back stepped half a second too early and left space behind him.
He saw gaps between the lines that existed only for a heartbeat, but were enough for a clever midfielder to slip through.
Sometimes he would whisper his observations to himself before the instructor even paused the clip.
Gradually, things changed around him.
During group tasks, people began choosing seats closer to his. Not because he was the youngest curiosity anymore, but because his thoughts were useful.
"What did you think about that press?" someone asked.
"Why did the overload work on that side?" another followed.
"If you were defending that transition, what would you do?"
Malik answered in a calm, almost quiet way. He never spoke to impress. He never raised his voice. He just explained what he saw, the way he saw it, using simple words and clear logic.
He didn't realize it at first, but people were listening. Really listening.
Coach Ade watched all of it from a distance, arms folded, a small smile sometimes forming at the corner of his mouth.
One evening, as they walked back from the pitch, Ade said, "Your brain plays one-touch football."
Malik looked at him, confused.
"No wasted movement. No wasted thought," Ade continued. "You don't hold onto ideas. You release them at the right time."
Malik smiled, a little shy.
And slowly, without any announcement, the teasing stopped.
The doubts softened.
The room changed its tone.
Where there had once been laughter and whispers, there was now quiet respect.