The second week of training at Ajax Academy arrived, and the pressure was building for
Femi. After days of uncertainty, he was eager to improve, but the transition to left-back still
felt like a burden he couldn't shake off. His training sessions were filled with frustration,
and it seemed like no matter how much he tried, nothing was clicking.
But things were different now. Lars de Groot, the retired Dutch left-back legend, had agreed
to mentor Femi. His arrival at the academy had given Femi a glimmer of hope—a sense that
maybe, just maybe, he could turn things around.
The First Training Session with Lars
The morning of the first training session with Lars, Femi was both nervous and excited. Lars
had been one of the best left-backs in the world, renowned for his tactical intelligence and
defensive skills. If anyone could help him make this transition, it was Lars.
Femi arrived early, his mind racing. As the rest of the squad warmed up, Lars stood by the
sideline, watching quietly. His eyes were sharp, calculating, as if he was already assessing
Femi's weaknesses before the session even began.
"Alright, Femi," Lars called out after a few drills. "Let's see what you've got. Defenders,
gather around."
Femi, along with a few others, jogged over. Lars didn't waste time with pleasantries. He
immediately dove into a tactical drill—a series of one-on-one defending situations, where
Femi had to contain a winger on the ball.
Lars' style was calm, but intense. He stood with his arms crossed, observing every move
Femi made. The first few times Femi tried to engage with the attacker, he found himself
lunging too early or standing off too far. The winger easily slipped past him each time, and
the frustration started to creep in.
Lars didn't speak much at first, but his quiet intensity was enough to make Femi realize that
this wasn't about speed or flair—it was about discipline and anticipation. Lars would
occasionally shout out tips:
"Stay on your toes, Femi. Don't rush in, wait for him to make his move."
"Watch the ball, not his eyes. He'll try to fake you out."
"Be patient. Good defenders don't chase the ball. They read the game."
The Struggle Continues
The first session ended with Femi feeling more defeated than ever. He had made a few
tackles, but he wasn't in the right positions half the time, and his decision-making was off.
The other players could tell that he was struggling, and though they didn't say much, their
eyes were filled with unspoken judgment.
Lars saw it, too. But instead of criticizing, he pulled Femi aside.
"Listen," he said, his voice calm but firm. "You're not going to become a top defender
overnight. This is going to take time. But you've got the physical tools. You just need to work
on your mind—on your decision-making. Take a step back and let the game come to you.
The hardest thing is slowing down."
Femi nodded, but the words didn't bring him any relief. Slowing down? How was he
supposed to slow down when the game felt like it was rushing past him?
The Middle of the Week: Frustration Sets In
By the third day of training, Femi felt himself hitting a wall. No matter what Lars said, the
basic principles of defending felt unnatural. Every time he tried to anticipate a play, he
found himself a step too slow. Every time he tried to make a challenge, he was beaten. He
was exhausted—physically and mentally.
After one particularly brutal drill where he was beaten for speed three times in a row, Femi
stood at the sidelines, wiping sweat from his brow, his frustration palpable. Coach Bakker
gave him an encouraging pat on the back, but Femi could tell the coach's patience was
wearing thin. The other defenders seemed to be improving while Femi remained stuck.
As the team gathered for a water break, Femi overheard a few of his teammates whispering.
"Femi's just not cut out for this position, is he?"
"He doesn't have the mentality for it. He's a winger. This is a different kind of game."
The words stung, and Femi's self-doubt grew heavier with each passing minute. The
pressure was mounting. He could feel himself slipping further away from the player he
used to be.
Lars' Wisdom
On the fourth day, Femi was ready to give up. He had spent the last few days trying to
replicate the same instincts he had as a winger, but it wasn't working. He couldn't even
make it through a simple 1v1 drill without being beaten or out of position. As he walked to
the field for another session, Femi thought about quitting—maybe he wasn't cut out to be a
defender after all.
But as he stepped onto the field, Lars was waiting for him. The old left-back had been quiet
all morning, but now he approached Femi with a different look in his eyes. It wasn't
disappointment—it was understanding.
"You're frustrated," Lars said, his voice low but firm. "I get it. This is hard. But what you need
to understand is that defending isn't about being the fastest or strongest. It's about
patience. A good defender reads the game before it happens."
Femi listened carefully, his eyes locking with Lars'.
"Defending is like chess. It's about positioning, timing, and reading the opponent's next
move," Lars continued. "You don't need to rush into tackles. You need to wait for the right
moment. Anticipate their moves and be ready."
Femi looked at Lars, confusion still written on his face. But Lars smiled, sensing the doubt.
"It's like this: you can't win every battle, but you can win the war. Take a deep breath. Let
the game come to you."
It wasn't some magical solution, but the simplicity of Lars' words started to make sense.
Maybe Femi had been trying too hard. Maybe he had been playing at full speed when he
needed to slow down and let the game develop.
The Turning Point
By the end of the week, Femi wasn't a completely different player, but he had made
progress. During a final drill of the week, Femi found himself in a defensive position against
a winger from the youth setup—his best friend, Liam Janssen.
Liam was fast and tricky, a perfect test for Femi's progress. As the drill began, Femi stayed
calm, waiting for Liam to make his move. When Liam tried to cross into the box, Femi
anticipated the play perfectly and made a solid block, sending the ball out for a throw-in.
In the heat of the moment, Femi couldn't hold back. He let out a loud cheer, pumping his
fist like he had just scored a goal.
Liam, who had been preparing to chase down the rebound, paused, laughing. "Chill, bruh,
it's just one block," he teased with a wide grin. There was no malice in his voice, just the
playful camaraderie that had always existed between them.
Femi, catching his breath and still buzzing from the small victory, grinned back. "Hey, it
feels pretty good, alright?"
Lars, standing off to the side, nodded approvingly. "Good. You're starting to understand," he
said with a rare smile.
Femi felt a surge of pride. It wasn't a perfect performance, but for the first time since his
position change, he could see the progress. Maybe—just maybe—he could make this work.
To be continued…