Become A Football Legend Chapter 377: Preseason Starts

28 July 2025.

The Manchester City Football Academy was unusually quiet at 7:00 a.m.

The summer sun had only recently climbed above the Manchester skyline, bathing the sprawling Etihad Campus in a soft golden glow. Dew still clung to the perfectly cut training pitches, sprinklers hissed somewhere in the distance, and birds chirped from the trees lining the walkways between the buildings. It was the sort of peaceful morning that existed only before footballers, coaches and staff filled the complex with noise.

Aaron eased the black Range Rover to a stop outside the first-team building.

"We’re here."

Lukas unclipped his seatbelt and grabbed his duffel bag.

"Thanks."

"I’ve got a couple of errands to run," Aaron replied. "I’ll be back later this afternoon."

"All right. See you then."

Lukas stepped out of the vehicle, slung the bag over his shoulder and watched Aaron drive away before turning toward the entrance.

The security guard at the gate smiled as soon as he saw him.

"Morning, Lukas."

"Morning."

"Ready for pre-season?"

Lukas chuckled.

"I’ll let you know in a few hours."

The guard laughed as Lukas continued inside.

A few members of the ground staff were already trimming hedges and preparing equipment carts. Some of the medical staff crossed paths with him carrying clipboards and coffee cups, while a couple of analysts walked briskly through the corridors with laptops tucked under their arms.

Lukas greeted everyone he met.

Some faces he remembered from his medical a few weeks earlier.

Others he had met during the Club World Cup in the United States.

He still couldn’t put names to every face, but everyone greeted him warmly enough that the unfamiliarity hardly mattered.

Inside the dressing room, it was almost empty.

His locker had already been prepared.

Folded neatly inside was Manchester City’s new training kit. The sleeveless Puma training top carried the OKX logo across the chest, paired with matching navy shorts and white training socks.

Lukas changed quickly before lacing up his white Puma boots.

Standing in front of the mirror for a brief moment, he adjusted the collar of the sleeveless top, rolled his shoulders once, then gave himself a small nod.

"Let’s get to work."

The gym downstairs was quiet.

Music drifted through the speakers overhead.

A Central Cee track echoed around the otherwise empty room.

Lukas smiled.

Of course.

Then he noticed the only other person inside.

Erling Haaland was on a stretching mat, working methodically through his warm-up routine.

The Norwegian looked up at exactly the same moment Lukas walked through the doorway.

They both spoke simultaneously.

"You’re here early."

For a second they simply stared at each other before bursting into laughter.

Lukas walked over and bumped fists with him.

"I was trying to be the first one here."

"Too bad."

Haaland grinned.

"I beat you."

"I’ve been here nearly 20 minutes."

Lukas shook his head dramatically.

"So much for making a good first impression."

Before Haaland could answer, another voice came from behind them.

"Oh, come on... not again."

The two turned.

Rúben Dias had just entered the gym carrying a water bottle over one shoulder.

The Portuguese defender looked at Haaland before throwing both hands into the air.

"Seriously, Erling?"

"You’re already starting the season 1 mile ahead of me."

Haaland simply shrugged.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Don’t act innocent."

Dias pointed accusingly.

"We both know we’re competing over who gets here first every morning."

Lukas looked between them, confused.

"Wait... This is actually a thing?"

"Of course it is," Dias replied. "He thinks because he’s won the last few seasons that he owns first place."

"I do own first place," Haaland answered with complete confidence.

Lukas laughed.

"So... who won last season?"

Haaland looked at him as if the answer were obvious.

"What do you think? Me, of course, three-time winner back to back to back."

Dias groaned dramatically.

"I hate this guy. Just you wait. I’m coming for your spot this year."

The three laughed together before beginning their own warm-ups.

Over the next hour the gym slowly came to life.

Bernardo Silva arrived carrying a coffee in one hand and greeted everyone before heading for the bikes.

Nico González came in next, followed by Rico Lewis, Phil Foden, Rayan Cherki, Tijjani Reijnders, Matheus Nunes, Jérémy Doku and Savinho. Conversation bounced around the room as players reunited after their holidays, joking about sunburns, family trips and who had returned the most out of shape.

By 8:30 a.m., Pepijn Lijnders walked into the gym with a whistle hanging around his neck.

"Morning, boys."

A chorus of greetings answered him.

Not long afterwards, the squad moved outside onto the training pitches, where they continued mobility work, light passing drills and activation exercises while more members of the coaching staff filtered onto the field.

At exactly 9:30 a.m., Pep Guardiola appeared.

Hands running across his bald head as always, he stood quietly near the touchline, watching his players without saying a word. After a few moments he called Kolo Touré and Pepijn Lijnders over. The 3 exchanged a few quiet words while occasionally glancing toward the squad.

Kolo eventually nodded.

Then he lifted the whistle to his lips.

Every conversation stopped.

The players jogged over.

Kolo smiled.

"Well, boys..."

"The holidays are over."

A few groans immediately came from the group.

He laughed.

"You’ve warmed up enough."

"Now it’s time to get your hearts pumping."

More groans.

A few players actually clapped instead.

Pep folded his arms and watched with the faintest smile.

Today’s main session would be a repeated sprint conditioning test, one of the toughest ways to restart pre-season. The players would complete successive shuttle sprints over increasing distances, each repetition on a strict time limit with only a brief recovery before the next whistle. Every set became longer, the recovery became shorter, and anyone failing to reach the line before the whistle accumulated penalties for the squad.

Bernardo Silva volunteered to go first.

By the end of his final sprint, he bent over with both hands on his knees, breathing heavily as Kolo called out his time.

Next came Nico González.

The Spaniard finished a fraction slower, walking away with a tired grin.

Phil Foden stepped up after him.

He completed the final shuttle, stumbled across the finish line and immediately collapsed onto the grass, lying flat on his back while everyone around him laughed.

"I hate pre-season," he muttered between breaths.

Then it was Haaland’s turn.

The Norwegian exploded off the line like a sprinter.

Even after the final shuttle he remained on his feet, bent slightly forward with his hands resting on his thighs, breathing hard but still looking remarkably composed.

Kolo glanced at the stopwatch.

A whistle escaped his lips.

"Best time. So far."

A few appreciative nods came from the group as Foden, who had now stood up, slapped Haaland on his back.

Then Kolo looked down at his clipboard.

"Next, Lukas."