The sun hung low over Elland Road, casting long shadows on the pitch as James prepared for another training session. The air was thick with expectation. Yesterday's practice had gone better than he'd hoped, but consistency was key. One good session didn't mean he'd earned their trust.
As the players filtered in, James noticed Bowyer and Kelly arriving together, laughing about something. A good sign, he thought. Team morale had been an issue lately, and seeing the lads in good spirits was promising.
Eddie Gray approached, clipboard in hand. "Heard good things from yesterday. Keep pushing them, and they'll come around."
James nodded, grateful for Eddie's support. Today's focus was on positional awareness and maintaining shape during transitions. He had mapped out a series of drills aimed at getting the midfield to support both defense and attack more efficiently.
When the session began, James divided the team into three groups, focusing on overlapping runs and quick one-twos. He made a point to encourage those who showed the right movement, reinforcing good habits.
Gary Kelly struggled to adapt to one of the drills, hesitating on whether to drop back or push forward. James pulled him aside.
"Gary, it's all about timing," James explained. "You've got to read the play. If the winger is isolated, support him. If there's danger behind, drop. Trust your instincts."
Kelly nodded, his expression serious. "Got it."
The next time the drill ran, Kelly timed his run perfectly, linking up with Bowyer and creating space on the right. James gave a loud clap of approval. "That's it! Good work, Kelly!"
As the intensity ramped up, James noticed Kewell, who had been quiet during the warm-up, suddenly burst into life. The young Australian weaved through the defenders, laying off a clever pass to Hasselbaink, who slotted it past the keeper.
James couldn't help but grin. "That's the sharpness we need, Harry! Keep it up!"
Bowyer, not to be outdone, picked up his game as well, pressing higher and forcing mistakes. The competitive spirit was infectious, and James knew this was the edge they needed in their next match.
After the session, James gathered the team around. "That was solid work today. This intensity—this hunger—is what we need every single game. We play with this mentality, and no one will outwork us."
The group dispersed, but Bowyer lingered. "Gaffer," he started, the word sounding slightly foreign on his tongue, "you reckon we can really push for Europe this season?"
James didn't hesitate. "If we keep training like this, absolutely. It's not just about talent. It's about working for each other, being relentless. You've got that fight in you, Lee. We need more of it."
Bowyer looked thoughtful before giving a quick nod and heading off. James watched him go, sensing that he was slowly chipping away at the player's doubts.
In the coach's office, James sat with Eddie, reviewing footage from last weekend's loss. "Our biggest issue is commitment to the press. One or two go, but the others hesitate," James pointed out.
Eddie rubbed his chin. "Maybe they're not sure when to commit. We've got experienced lads, but sometimes they're stuck between instincts and instructions."
James knew Eddie was right. "We'll drill it again tomorrow. Simplify it. Make it clear: when one goes, everyone goes. No second-guessing."
The following day, the training ground was buzzing. News had leaked about James's firm approach, and the local press had begun speculating about a shift in the team's attitude. The players seemed aware of the scrutiny, pushing harder during warm-ups.
James called for a full-pitch game to test the press in real scenarios. As they played, he barked instructions, demanding more urgency and cohesion. After twenty minutes, he stopped the play.
"Alright, gather up! We're pressing in waves, but it's disjointed. If one of you pushes up, the whole line has to follow. If we leave gaps, good teams will exploit them. Stay compact. Communicate!"
The next sequence went smoother. The midfield closed space quicker, and the forwards harassed the defenders relentlessly. The energy was palpable.
After training, James headed to the club's media room, where he was scheduled to give a short interview. A local reporter, Sarah Lawson, greeted him. "James, there's a lot of talk about your approach. Some say you're too intense for the squad. Your thoughts?"
James considered his words carefully. "Intensity is non-negotiable. This club has a legacy of hard work and fighting spirit. I'm here to make sure we live up to that. The lads are responding well. It's not about being harsh—it's about being committed."
Later that evening, James found himself at his local pub, catching his breath after another long day. A few fans recognized him, nodding approvingly. One, an older man in a Leeds scarf, approached him.
"Back when you played, you were a proper grafter. Glad to see you're not letting these lads off easy," the man said, raising his pint.
James smiled, grateful for the support. "We're getting there. One step at a time."
The next match loomed on the horizon—a tough away fixture against Newcastle. As James planned the lineup that night, he knew the real test would be how the players responded when the pressure was on. He needed them to show the same hunger they had in training.
That night, James couldn't sleep, his mind swirling with thoughts of tactics and team selection. He knew Newcastle's strengths—fast counter-attacks and physicality. He needed to prepare the team for a gritty battle, one that would test their resolve.
Determined to leave nothing to chance, he watched tapes of Newcastle's recent matches, making notes on their patterns and set-piece routines. It was going to be a fight, but James wouldn't have it any other way.
One step at a time.