The Utrecht morning was freezing, but my mind felt even colder.
After yesterday's meeting with Mark Veldman… everything just felt different.
Heavier.
Quieter.
More serious.
This was the week before the Jong Utrecht integration test—
the week where any mistake could bury my chances.
---
Monday — A Strange Tactical Shift
The academy field was still soaked in morning dew when training started.
After warm-ups, Coach De Vries called me over.
"Richard, starting this week you'll train with the hybrid group."
I froze.
Hybrid group meant training with U18, U19, and some Jong Utrecht bench players.
"I–I understand, Coach."
"You'd better." His tone was flat but sharp.
"We need to see if you can handle players two years older than you."
Training that day was brutal.
Pressing faster, duels heavier, passing tempo insanely quick.
Twice I lost the ball.
Once I got tackled hard by an U19 defender.
But Coach didn't comfort me. He just yelled:
"Get up, Richard! There's no time to whine in Jong Utrecht!"
So I got up.
Jaw tight.
No retreat.
---
Tuesday — Video Analysis: Facing My Weaknesses
A small room, dim lights, the smell of coffee.
Coach Bram played clips from my last two matches.
"Look here," he said, pausing the screen.
My positioning was slightly too wide before receiving the ball.
"You do this in the test next week, and Jong Utrecht players will steal your space before you even turn."
I nodded quickly.
"And here…"
He paused again.
My cutback came too early.
"You need more patience. Choose the moment. Timing is everything."
My throat tightened.
Every second felt like being peeled open.
But this was what I needed—truth, no sugarcoating.
---
Wednesday — Internal Game With Real Pressure
A 2×30-minute scrimmage.
My team vs a mixed U19 squad.
From the first whistle, they targeted me.
Of course they did—
they wanted to test me… or break me.
Minute 12, the ball reached my feet.
Two players closed in instantly.
Normally, I'd panic-pass.
But not today.
I half-turned, flicked the ball through a defender's legs, and chipped a diagonal pass to the right winger.
Coach Bram yelled:
"THAT'S IT, RICHARD!"
But it wasn't all good.
Minute 37, I miscontrolled.
An U19 defender shoved my shoulder hard and stole the ball.
Some players laughed.
"Jong Utrecht material? That's it?"
My chest burned.
But I stayed calm.
I answered with play, not anger.
Minute 48, I cut inside from the left half-space, turned my body, and sliced a through pass splitting both defenders.
Goal.
Coach De Vries just gave a small nod.
Satisfied.
---
Thursday — Psych Test & Short Interview
Not many players know about this part.
But if you want to move up a level, you have to pass the club's mental test.
A white room, small table, academy psychologist sitting across from me.
He asked:
"If you fail next week, what will you do?"
I breathed slowly.
"Learn from every mistake and move forward. I don't stop."
He wrote something down.
"What if your teammates get jealous of your opportunity?"
"Fair. Competition always brings that out. My job is to stay focused."
He nodded.
Then the last question:
"Are you ready for the pressure of thousands of eyes, media, and coaches watching you?"
I lifted my head.
"Not just ready, sir. I want that."
A slight look of surprise.
He closed the notebook.
"That's… an answer at a professional level."
---
Friday — Last Training & Coach's Message
The session was light, but the atmosphere was heavy.
Every coach looked at me like they were measuring something—
Bram, De Vries, fitness staff, even the keeper coach.
After training ended, Coach De Vries walked right up to me.
"Richard…"
I looked up.
"Starting tomorrow… the world will judge you, not just the academy."
I went silent.
"You don't need to be perfect. But you must show who you are."
He paused.
"Don't play like someone trying to pass the test.
Play like someone who already belongs there."
His words hit deep—straight to the bone.
I nodded.
"Yes, Coach."
---
The Night Before the Test
The dorm room was quiet.
Only the wind tapping against the window.
I sat on my bed, staring at my clean red-and-white boots on the floor.
My hands were trembling a little.
Not because of fear—
but because tomorrow was the real beginning of my career.
My phone buzzed.
A message from Aquila:
"You're ready, Richard. I believe in you. Show them who you are."
A message from Mama:
Nak, hati-hati. Mama doain dari jauh.
And the last one—from the system:
> [Active Quest — The Path to Jong Utrecht]
Status: Progressing
Integration Test: Tomorrow.
I clenched my fists.
Tomorrow… the real story starts.