The sun was already high over Ciutat Esportiva Joan Gamper by the time the first team stepped onto the pitch. Spirits were up. The energy was sharp. Today wasn't just any session—it was going to be intense.
"Alright," Hansi Flick called out, clapping his hands. "We'll break into pairs for offensive finishing drills. Crosses. Situational runs. I want clean execution, quick reactions, and sharp link-up."
Luca stretched out, glancing around, until Lewandowski casually nodded in his direction.
"You and me, kid."
Luca blinked. "For real?"
Lewy smirked. "You play left wing, I'm the nine. Let's see what you've got."
The rest of the players raised eyebrows, murmuring among themselves.
"Luca training with the GOAT?" Gavi whispered to Raphinha.
"Man's birthday powers haven't worn off yet," Raphinha grinned.
Crossing Drills Begin
The drill was simple: Luca would drive down the wing, beat a mannequin defender, and deliver crosses—low, floated, cutbacks. Lewandowski would make runs into the box, timing perfectly with Luca's service.
And they clicked. Immediately.
First rep — Luca burned down the sideline, cut back onto his right, and whipped a fast, low ball into the near post. Lewy met it in stride. Boom. Goal.
"Clean!" Flick shouted.
Second rep — A floated cross to the far post. Lewy adjusted mid-air, rose between two defenders, and nodded it in with ease.
"Again!" Lewandowski called out, adrenaline flowing.
Third rep — This time, Luca faked a cross, stepped back, and fired a cutback along the grass toward the penalty spot. Lewandowski arrived late, cool finish. Net rippled.
From the sideline, Pedri nudged Flick. "They're eating, mister."
"Better than I expected," Flick muttered, impressed.
Switch It Up
Now Flick added a twist: random defenders, limited touches, different angles.
"Make it game-like," he shouted. "No time to think. Just react!"
Luca exploded down the flank again, this time facing pressure from Koundé, who pushed him wide. But Luca stayed composed, chopped the ball inside, and curled a first-time cross around the defender.
Lewandowski read it like a book. One touch. Top bin.
The field stopped.
"Yoo…" Gavi said, jaw slightly open.
Raphinha whistled. "They got chemistry. That's dangerous."
Even Ter Stegen cracked a grin from goal. "Are we sure he's not been here for years?"
Final Drill: Reaction Challenge
Flick set up the last drill. A coach would randomly shout which side Luca had to cross from—left, center, or right—and Lewy had to adjust accordingly. No warning.
The first shout came: "Center!"
Luca sprinted in, took a touch, and dinked a ball over the top. Lewy sprinted in behind, chested it down, volleyed. Bang.
"Right!"
Luca dashed to the opposite wing, this time under pressure, and launched a curling ball that curved in behind the defense. Lewandowski met it with a diving header.
"Left!"
Back to his natural side, Luca fired in a low rocket cross. Lewy backheeled it in.
Three reps. Three goals.
Flick raised both eyebrows. "That's enough. You two… that was clinical."
Cool Down & Chat
As the rest of the squad moved to cool down, Lewandowski walked over and patted Luca on the shoulder.
"You've got the right instincts. That cutback cross? Perfect timing."
"Thanks," Luca said, still catching his breath.
"You keep serving balls like that…" Lewy smiled, "you'll be starting games before long."
Lamine came jogging over. "Yo, you and Lewandowski were doing co-op mode today."
"Bro," Gavi added, "it was like watching FIFA on Ultimate chemistry."
Flick clapped his hands. "Enough jokes. Good session. And Luca…" he paused. "You're showing the right growth. Be ready."