Before turning onto the highway, he noticed an unopened text message.
“Coach, my Mom said you might be coming to watch us in Sweden?”
Eddie sat at the stop sign wondering how to reply.
“She did offer to fly me over, but I don’t want to make things weird. You doing OK?” He hit the send arrow.
A long pause followed.
“No, not really,” replied Peter.
Eddie waited for the three flashing dots to signal a follow-up text. But the screen was quiet.
“Pete, you’ll be fine. Just listen to your coach and the doctor.”
Still nothing in return.
He dialed Karen’s phone.
"Hello Karen, it's Eddie.”
“Oh Eddie, did you change your mind?” she said with an uptick in her voice.
“No, sorry. Has Benny called you today?”
“No, why?”
"Did Pete tell you about the fight?"
"What fight?" she said.
Eddie instantly regretted blurting out the news.
"Benny said Pete got into a fight with one of his teammates.”
"Oh, no, no. Is he OK?" asked Karen.
"He is, but apparently not the other guy. I'm surprised the Academy didn't call you yet."
"Peter's never been in a fight in his life. What is happening, Eddie?"
“I don’t know. Do you think Sam will stop in to see him in Stockholm?”
“Probably not. He doesn’t seem to have time for anything but business, right now.”
Eddie stopped himself before he replied. He did not want to tell Karen about Peter’s text to him. But he had no soothing answer for her. So he snuck out the back door.
“OK, well I thought you should know. I’m sorry, I have to go.”
Eddie turned onto the highway back to town. He told himself he wasn’t responsible. That this is something only Peter’s parents should be handling. His head pounded. His mom’s words came back to him. “But you do what you can to help each of them.”
17
As the public address announcer, speaking in Swedish-accented English, welcomed the fans to the Scandia academy tournament, two teams entered the stadium. Dual lines of players followed the four officials in a ceremonial march to the center of the field where they spread out, shoulder to shoulder, facing the main press box. They disbursed with the customary playing of national anthems, moving right into handshakes and the coin flip to determine which end to defend. Stuart's lads had improved their appearance since the flight from Kotka, wearing matching warm-ups of Kotka blue and white. Still, they could not match the spit and polish of the Manchester United team who wore an air of smugness with their starched and pressed Nike attire.
A raucous band of about one hundred United fans, wearing red team jerseys and carrying oversized flags, filled the stadium with their chants. Along the top row, were a dozen middle-aged men busily tapping their phones, some with laptops open in front of them, and a few with low-tech clipboards. These were team scouts serving a dual purpose; to gather information on the future competition for their senior teams but also on potential recruits that they could pursue or, better yet, steal from their current academies. One English scout declared it the "luck of the draw" that United opened with Kotka, the Finnish minnow. Just a stretch of their legs to get ready for the real competition from mainland Europe.
The other teams, playing later in the day, filed into the lower rows wearing their coordinated outfits. Among them were the maroon, red and blue of Barcelona, the black and red of AC Milan and the bronze, black and blue of their crosstown rivals, Inter. Juventus and Bayern Munich, the match-up after this game, stretched on the field across the street, near the finish line for the Stockholm Marathon.
To generate revenue before they built a larger, modern stadium across town, the Swedish Djurgårdens club had constructed five enclosed luxury boxes just below the clock tower, mostly for the owners and guests. Since then, various VIPs of the events, which on this day included dignitaries from United and Kotka, reserved them.
The early moments of the game were a cautious cat-and-mouse chase. Each team sought possession of the ball only to lose it through impatience or a poorly placed pass. But there were a few successful combinations of play through the middle of the field. With Peter in the center flanked by Pavel, playing there in Aleks’ absence, Kotka pinged the ball around the perimeter of the United defense, testing passes to Benny on the far right and Toshi on the left. Over the last twelve minutes of the first half, Kotka controlled the play with Peter bouncing a shot from just inside the box off the right post and Harry having a crossed header saved by the outstretched United goalkeeper. There was a rhythm to their movement. It was a bit of the chemistry that Stuart had seen glimpses of during the Malmo scrimmage but not quite with the same fluidity and anticipation as when Aleks and Peter joined forces. In his press conference the day before, Stuart avoided questions about Aleks’ injuries but remained confident he would return to the line-up at some point in Stockholm. Halftime arrived with no goals.
The mid-morning sun was now beating down, chasing the light-skinned, local fans up to the higher sections in the cool shade of the covering roofline. But one enjoyed the heat and the southerly breeze that blew across the field. He stretched out over three rows, leaning back with his elbows on the seat behind him, and his feet stacked one over the other on the row below. To block the glare, he donned his bargain sunglasses and pulled a ragged Badgers ball cap further down on his forehead. His phone buzzed in his back pocket.
"Hi Eddie, it's Karen. Just thought I'd check in to see how the game is going."
"0-0 at the half. They look good, actually. Better than I expected.”
"Oh, that's good. How's Peter playing?"
"Solid in the middle, as usual. And he looks like he's enjoying it."
"Wonderful, I'm so relieved. Well, maybe I overreacted a little."
"So far, so good. I'm keeping a low profile just to make sure," said Eddie.
"Again, I don’t know how to thank you. It's comforting to know you're there."
"No problem. And thank you for the lavish digs!" said Eddie. "I'll stay in touch."
Eddie ended the call and put the phone back in his pocket, standing up to stretch. He watched Peter and Benny head towards the locker room, content with their first-half performance. They seemed to search for anyone in the stands they recognized, but Eddie was not about to attract attention to himself. Despite MLS being less known than the century-old leagues of Europe, it surprised him how often fans stopped him on the streets of Lisbon or London, asking for a selfie or a signature. Just that morning, arriving at the stadium, he noticed several stares of near recognition.
Walking behind the pack, with a swollen face and two black eyes, was a Kotka player dressed in warm-ups. Eddie assumed this was Peter's punching bag. During his playing days, Eddie had seen his share of training ground bust-ups, but this poor soul clearly got the worst of it. Impressed that Peter could handle himself in a fight, Eddie still knew it was entirely out of character.
From his perch on the top row behind the north goal, near the brick, Roman archways that ringed the stadium, Eddie could see everything. He preferred watching games from this vantage point to watch the action unfold along the length of the field. And with the streaming television coverage, he could quickly turn his head to watch replays on the giant, high-definition scoreboard behind him. There was just something about these venerable battlefields of sport that Eddie appreciated. He imagined generations of athletes from around the world who competed here, some leaving with medals and trophies while most with just emptiness inside, reliving missed opportunities throughout their lives. It gave him a shot of competitive adrenaline, memories from the victories and milestones achieved over the years, but also of that night in Chicago that halted his journey.
Eddie glanced over at the scouts who were now murmuring among themselves and working their phones. He guessed they were checking the to
urnament schedule to note the next time the blue and white played or searching a map to make travel plans to Finland.
As he looked back to the field, Eddie noticed a couple descending through the rows from the luxury boxes. Compared to the shorts and t-shirts of most of the fans, their appearance was conspicuous. The man, who Eddie guessed to be well over six feet tall, wore a dark gray business suit with a starched dress shirt and no tie. His salt and pepper hair and beard placed him in his mid-fifties, possibly older, if not for his boyish face. He held the elbow of his companion, a stunning woman with long brown hair, dressed in white capris and a Kotka blue, V-necked blouse, carrying a tablet computer. She was more than a beautiful woman, thought Eddie. Perhaps she was part of the team, an analyst or maybe on the medical staff. Could this be the mysterious neuroscientist that Benny mentioned? Despite her heeled sandals, she seemed capable of navigating the steep steps on her own, but the man seemed intent on offering his help. They didn't appear to be a romantic couple as there were no smiles or embraces. At least that's what Eddie convinced himself, as they disappeared down into the tunnel under the seats.
18
Anna knocked on the training room door, then entered quietly. Stuart was emphasizing his second-half adjustments.
"Again, we need to dominate this midfield area so all three of you can push up when we have the ball. Toshi, I want you to work over their right back with diagonal runs into the box. Peter, you have to play quicker to get the ball to him here," said Stuart drawing a dotted line from his midfielder’s position to Toshi's projected path. "That's it, boys. Communication and control. Those are your keys."
As the team filed out of the room, Stuart passed Anna at the door.
"Can I help you, Dr. Lehtinen?" said Stuart, surprised to see her.
"No, I'm just interested in learning what I can," said Anna.
Stuart moved by without a word.
Once the team filed out, Anna paused then looked down the brick-lined corridor running beneath the seats to be sure she was alone. A security guard stood at his post near the gate while mid-morning Stockholm shoppers bustled about the stores across Valhallvaägen parkway. She dialed Werner and Jami, who were both at the CBTC in Helsinki to discuss the first-half performance.
"OK, are we all on?" asked Anna.
"I'm here," said Werner in his German baritone.
"Me too," said Jami.
"Great. I'm looking at the dashboard. Initial impressions?" asked Anna.
"Overall mean decision time of 0.23 seconds with a plus-minus of 0.15," said Jami.
"Right, I see that," said Anna. "Can we sharpen up #8?"
"It’s tough without the other one out there," said Jami.
"Let's get his decision time down to 0.14 by increasing first-option confidence," said Anna. "That will reinforce Stuart's halftime emphasis of diagonal passes."
"I agree," said Werner. "Our analytics noted United's weakness there."
"OK, all set, I have to get back. Thanks, guys," said Anna disconnecting.
Eddie watched the players jog out for the second half kickoff. As Peter took his place at the center of the field, he looked down at the ground in front of him like he had just dropped something. He lifted his head back up, gave it a shake, and wiped his forehead. The referee’s whistle restarted the game.
In the first two minutes, the blond midfielder executed three precision passes then slid the ball into the box for a shot by Harry, saved by United's keeper. But that was nothing compared to the next sequence. Peter intercepted a pass just inside his own half of the field, about ten yards to the right of center. He one-touched the ball to Pavel, who was moving to his left. Pavel, in turn, slid a pass over to Benny, who dropped it back to his best friend. Peter anticipated Toshi’s diagonal run, sent a perfectly weighted pass to him and then raced straight into the box on the right side. Toshi found him with a square pass through the United defense, where Peter took one step then tapped the ball into the right corner of the goal.
As Peter raced over to the corner flag for a celebration, his teammates stood motionless for a second, not quite believing the wizardry they had just created. The five passes over thirty yards had taken eight seconds. A blue and white scrum ensued around Peter, with the United players standing like stunned soldiers. Dylan Partridge, the United manager, looked over at Stuart with an accusatory glance, wondering if he had substituted better players at halftime. Equally surprised, Stuart held his poker face and clapped as his team ran back to the center of the field.
The local Stockholm crowd, who had been neutral up to that point, now sensed a David over Goliath moment and swung their support to Kotka. With momentum and confidence, the blue and white took on their vaunted opponents with more zeal and purpose. By the time United conceded the game by emptying their bench of substitutes, Peter and his mates had poured in four more goals in a quarter-hour. Intricate ball movement with uncanny precision, especially from Peter, sent the fans into a frenzy and the United supporters quietly exiting Stadion well before the final whistle.
During the final two minutes, Eddie made his way down to the sidelines. What he had just witnessed was proof for him that Peter Borg had taken the next step up in his development and from all appearances seemed fine. Feeling no need to stay incognito, Eddie waited with a smile by the entrance to the tunnel.
“Coach!” said Peter.
Benny looked up when he heard the excitement in Peter’s voice. He located the dread-locked man with the Badgers cap and gave a fist pump to himself. Peter ran over to give Eddie a bear hug.
"How about that, Coach?!" said Peter, beaming with a smile. "We beat Manchester United 5-0!"
"Well done, that was amazing to watch," said Eddie patting Peter on the back.
"I've never felt like that before. Everything just clicked. It was so easy," said Peter, shaking his head as he looked around the field and saw Benny jogging over to them.
"Dude, that was insane!" said Benny high-fiving Peter.
"What's up, Benny!" said Eddie, pulling him in for a hug.
“Thanks for coming,” said Benny over Eddie’s shoulder into his ear.
"This guy's getting the hang of it, huh?" said Eddie, giving a nudge to Peter.
"Dude, did you see that keeper's face when you beat him on your second goal?" said Benny laughing.
"I know, right?" said Peter, laughing.
"I doubt they've had five goals scored on them all season," said Eddie. He looked across the field and saw Stuart looking their way.
"Hey, you guys better head back. I think your Coach wants to get going," said Eddie.
"Come over and meet him," said Peter. "He's a good guy."
"Just a quick hello," said Eddie.
They walked back to where the team was still celebrating. As he got closer, Eddie realized how tall Stuart was.
"Coach, I'd like you to meet someone," said Peter. "This is our high school coach from Minnesota, Eddie Alonso."
Stuart turned and held out his giant hand.
"Hello, Eddie, a pleasure," said Stuart.
"Coach, great to meet you. I've been a fan of yours back to your Liverpool days," said Eddie, feeling his hand disappear inside Stuart's grip.
"Eddie Alonso, that name sounds familiar. You played, right?"
"Yes sir, two years in MLS for the Stars," said Eddie.
"Of course. Now I remember. You were on our radar, as well as several other EPL teams," said Stuart. "Then, you took a nasty hit as I recall?"
"More like a totally cheap shot to the head," said Benny.
"It was unfortunate, but I’m better now," said Eddie. "Congrats on the win. Your team played outstanding today."
"They certainly did. Better than I've seen them play, especially this lad in the middle," said Stuart with a nod to Peter. "A good sign against a quality side."
Walking through his field of view, Eddie saw the power couple coming down from the stands and heading towards the exit. Peter noticed Eddie's distraction.
&nbs
p; "Oh, by the way, that's the team owner," said Peter.
Eddie focused back on Peter and Stuart, embarrassed by the diversion.
"Victor Niemi. Founder and CEO of Haukka Communications," said Stuart. "He's really turned this club around. We have him to thank for all of this."
"Impressive,” asked Eddie. “And the woman?”
"Dr. Anna Lehtinen. Head of our cognitive performance program. I'm still figuring out what she does here," said Stuart. "But I hear she's brilliant. Victor hired her, so he must know what she's doing."
This gave Eddie another excuse to watch her exit the stadium.
"Interesting. Well, Coach, I know you have a lot to do, so I don't want to keep you. Again, congrats," said Eddie.
"Enjoy your stay, Eddie," said Stuart as he shook hands. "Gentlemen, time to go."
"I'll be here all weekend, guys," said Eddie as he gave fist bumps to Peter and Benny. "Oh yeah, Pete, your mom says hi, and your dad is in London but probably won't make it here for the tournament."
Peter looked away for a moment.
"Like probably or won't?" asked Peter, as he picked up his backpack.
"Never say never, but I don't think so," said Eddie.
"OK, well, I'm glad you're here," said Peter as he forced a half-smile.
Stuart had paused, waiting for the boys and overheard the exchange. He gave an understanding nod to Eddie.
As he crossed the street towards the city center, Eddie processed what he had just seen. It was only one game. Still, the dramatic improvement in Peter's play since St. Cloud and the turnaround at halftime was remarkable. Even their coach, a seasoned professional, seemed surprised by their dominance. Perhaps Dr. Lehtinen had found something, he thought. Maybe he also had worried a little too much. Eddie decided to stay for the championship game the next day and then fly home. At least, that was his plan.
19
It came as no surprise that Real Madrid, the Spanish giants, advanced to the final of the Scandia tournament, but it puzzled Eddie that they brought several of their young, elite players who already were regulars on the senior team roster. A club of their stature has the luxury of securing the most talented young recruits in the world by paying whatever price is necessary to make them one of the Los Blancos. Eddie knew they had nothing to prove in Stockholm yet risked fatigue at best and injury at worst to their future playmakers. Nevertheless, the championship match-up with FC Kotka seemed like a formality on paper, despite the heroics of the blue and white against United. Still, Eddie wouldn't miss the chance to see his boys in such a high-profile game. Aleks, wearing a mask to protect his healing face, looked ready to make a return. If he played anything like Peter and the others in the first game, Kotka had a chance to at least stay in the game.
The Playmaker Project Page 10
