After the brief encounter on the road, Leo kept riding and soon arrived back at his home on the outskirts of town.
“I’m back!” The moment his mother Julia saw him step through the door, she came jogging out of the living room, beaming, and pulled him into a huge hug.
Twenty years ago, his father Simon Hale had traveled from the far East to study at the University of Leicester, where he met his mother.
It was love at first sight.
They fell hard, and soon walked down the aisle.
Two years later, Leo was born.
As the only child in the family, Leo had been doted on from day one.
Ever since he announced he wanted to become a professional footballer, both parents had stood firmly behind him, supporting him without reservation.
Leo’s mother Julia, a Leicester native born and raised in the county, was a deeply gentle woman.
She took his backpack with one hand and reached up to touch her son’s face with the other, her expression full of concern.
“How did you get even darker?
Is training that rough?” “It’s fine.” “You haven’t had breakfast yet, have you?
I just finished making it.
Come eat!” “Okay.” His mother took him by the hand and led him to the dining room, where Leo found his father already seated at the head of the table.
Simon Hale, in a white button-down shirt and black-framed glasses, every inch the academic, didn’t put down his financial paper when he saw Leo.
He just lifted his chin in greeting.
“Son, welcome home.” Leo smiled back and took his usual seat on the right side of the table.
The breakfast spread was generous.
Alongside the Western staples of bacon, sausage, and fried eggs, there was also congee, fried dough sticks, steamed buns, shumai, and salted duck eggs.
Staring at these Chinese breakfast dishes, both unfamiliar and deeply familiar, Leo felt his appetite roar to life after days of youth-team nutrition meals.
“Son, try this one!” “This bun is so good!
And this shumai is amazing!” “Slow down.
No one’s taking it from you.” His phone rang.
“Hello?” A slightly raspy male voice came through on the other end.
“Leo, it’s me.
Walsh.” “Coach?” The caller was none other than the first team’s assistant manager and chief scout, Steve Walsh.
Before Leo could say another word, Walsh delivered news that didn’t surprise him in the slightest.
“Mr.
Pearson asked me to tell you: report to the first team tomorrow.” Both Simon and Julia were overjoyed at the news of their son’s promotion to the first team.
After a relaxing and warm day at home, Leo got back on his bike the next morning and headed to Belvoir Drive, ready to begin his first-team career.
With assistant manager Steve Walsh personally leading the way, Leo stepped into the first-team dressing room for the first time.
“Starting today, Leo will be a member of the first team.
Let’s give him a warm welcome.” At manager Pearson’s announcement, the Leicester City first-team squad, led by captain Wes Morgan, broke into applause.
No one in the room was surprised that Leo had been promoted.
After his stunning FA Cup performance, he had more than enough quality to hold his own in the first team.
So aside from a few midfielders facing direct competition, whose expressions fell short of warm, the rest of the squad welcomed Leo’s arrival wholeheartedly.
It was worth noting that Jamal, the Black defensive midfielder who had made his first-team debut alongside Leo in the FA Cup, had not stayed with the first team.
He had been sent back to the youth squad.
With Leo now added as a midfielder, the first team had five midfielders in total.
Leicester’s tactical setup was a flat 4-4-2.
That meant only two midfielders started each match.
Over the first half of the Championship season, those two midfield spots had been rotated among the squad’s other four midfielders.
Among them, Manchester United academy product Danny Drinkwater was the undisputed midfield linchpin.
The other young midfielder out of the United academy, Matty James, was Drinkwater’s partner in the center of the park.
The passing organization and defensive screening provided by these two former United youth players was one of the key reasons Leicester sat firmly atop the Championship table this season.
The two remaining rotation options were Andy King, a fan favorite and homegrown talent who had spent ten years at the club, and Dean Hammond, a veteran midfielder who had transferred in from Premier League Southampton that season.
The Championship had twenty-four teams and a forty-six-match season.
Compared to the Premier League’s thirty-eight, plus the League Cup, FA Cup, and other cup competitions, the Championship schedule was even more congested.
So a five-man midfield rotation was just about right.
“That’s your spot.” As the newest member of the first team, Leo’s place was in the far-right corner of the dressing room.
A locker with a number 23 shirt hanging inside.
The storage cubby above it had a nameplate that read “HALE.” This was Leo’s own space in the first-team dressing room.
And right next to him was the recent signing, Mahrez.
The moment Leo sat down, the good-looking African lad beside him raised an eyebrow and extended a hand.
“Welcome to the first team, mate.” “Thanks.” “Get changed and meet on the training pitch.” With that, the manager and assistant manager turned and walked out of the dressing room.
Captain Wes Morgan’s deep, resonant voice filled the room.
“Leo, how about you introduce yourself?
Let the lads get to know you.” Leo paused for a beat, then stood without hesitation and walked to the center of the dressing room.
He swept his eyes around the room.
Not a trace of a rookie’s shyness or nerves.
He simply spread his arms and spoke, steady and assured.
“Morning, lads.
My name’s Leo Hale.
You can call me Leo.
On the pitch or off it.” “I’m hoping to learn from every one of you how to compete at this level, to fight alongside you, to chase wins, and to contribute whatever I can to this team.” “Thank you.” The poised, humble speech earned him a round of applause.
It also left more than a few of them quietly puzzled.
He didn’t come across like an eighteen-year-old kid who had just been promoted to the first team.
He felt more like a seasoned veteran who had transferred in from another club, someone who had been through the wars.
As for whether the kid could stick with the first team and fight alongside them, that would come down to what he showed on the pitch.
Lacing up his boots, Leo studied every face in the dressing room.
In his assessment, breaking into the first team as a starting midfielder was going to be difficult.
Even with Prime Kevin De Bruyne’s passing technique and vision, he was fully capable of orchestrating the attack from midfield.
But his running and defensive ability didn’t come close to matching the other four midfielders.
In a flat 4-4-2 system, the two central midfielders had to be box-to-box.
They needed to pass and organize, but they also had to cover ground relentlessly and contribute defensively.
His running ability was passable.
But his defensive contribution?
Basically dead last on the squad.
And Leo believed his best position wasn’t central midfield or defensive midfield.
It was attacking midfield.
Just like in the match against Stoke City.
With two midfielders behind him shielding and sweeping up, he could unleash his attacking talent without a single worry at his back.
But in a flat 4-4-2, there was no attacking midfield role.
And with Leicester cruising through the league, the manager had no reason to suddenly change tactics or formation.
Modern football tactics were deeply complex, with countless interconnected factors.
Even a single positional change could send ripples through the entire system.
So, knowing the manager wasn’t about to reshape the tactics and formation just for him, Leo understood exactly what he had to do to earn minutes.
He had to adapt to the team’s system and style of play, then fight to make his mark in whatever substitute appearances he got.
Perform well on the pitch, and everything else would follow.
Because in the brutal world of competitive sport, being bad was the one unforgivable sin.