Touchline Rebirth: From Game To Glory-Chapter 229: Early Concerns

Chapter 229: Early Concerns

December 14th, 2010

Morning arrived quietly and Niels was already awake.

Sunlight came through the kitchen window as he sat at the table, eating a simple breakfast. A plate with toast and eggs sat in front of him, and a cup of coffee rested beside it.

Normally mornings like this were peaceful for him, a short moment before the day’s work began. But today his mind was still back at last night’s match.

Niels took a sip of his coffee, staring slightly at the table. His thoughts were interrupted when his phone buzzed lightly on the table.

He picked it up.

A message from Thomas.

"Reece is coming in for scans at 8. I’ll let you know once we check the ankle."

Niels nodded slightly to himself. "Good," he said quietly.

At least they wouldn’t have to guess for long.

He finished the last sip of his coffee and stood up from the table, carrying the empty cup to the sink.

The players were resting today. 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

But for Niels, the day was just beginning and depending on the results of Reece’s checkup, he might soon have an important problem to solve in Crawley’s defense.

After that, he grabbed his jacket and keys, checking the clock. It was almost time for Reece’s medical checkup at the training ground.

"Let’s see how bad it really is." Niels muttered quietly as he stepped outside.

The drive was calm but tense. The players had the day off, giving them a chance to recover, but Niels knew he couldn’t stop thinking about the squad and how to cover the RB gap if Reece was out.

Pulling into the training ground parking lot, he saw Thomas waiting by the entrance, already scanning notes on his tablet.

"Morning," Thomas said. "He’s ready for scans. We’ll know more soon."

Niels nodded. "Good. Let’s get this done. Then we can plan the next steps."

Together, they walked toward the medical area and the training staff preparing for the evaluations.

A few minutes later, Reece arrived at the training ground, leaning slightly on crutches for support. His face was pale, and there was a tight line across his brow.

Thomas and a physio met him at the entrance. "Take it slow," Thomas instructed gently, guiding him toward the medical room.

Niels fell into step behind them, his eyes scanning Reece as he walked. Each step seemed to cause him discomfort. The ankle didn’t have the same stability...

"Hmm..." Niels muttered under his breath.

Reece winced as he shifted his weight. "Feels... a bit worse this morning," he admitted quietly, gripping the crutches tighter. "Didn’t think it’d hurt this much just walking."

Thomas shook his head, concerned but calm. "We’ll get scans and run a few tests. Don’t try to push through it, we need to know exactly what we’re dealing with."

Niels gave a small nod, already calculating the potential impact. "Alright, Reece. Stay calm. We’ll take care of it and decide the next steps once we have the results. But just looking at this... it may be more serious than we hoped."

Reece exhaled, a mixture of frustration and worry passing across his face. "I just don’t want to be out for long..."

"You’ve done more than enough for the team," Niels said firmly. "Right now, we focus on getting you back properly."

Thomas guided Reece into the medical room while Niels lingered just outside, making mental notes about the defensive gap that would need covering if the scans confirmed a longer-term injury.

Inside the medical room, Reece carefully lowered himself onto the examination table while Thomas and the physio gently removed his boot. Niels stood just outside, leaning against the doorframe, watching quietly.

Thomas palpated the ankle, testing its range of motion. Reece flinched slightly at certain angles, and the physio jotted down notes on the tablet.

"Definitely some swelling here," Thomas said, his tone measured. "And the movement isn’t as clean as yesterday. We need an X-ray and an MRI to be certain there’s no ligament damage or fracture."

Reece exhaled, staring at the ceiling. "So... not just a twisted ankle then?"

"It could be more," Thomas admitted. "Could be minor, could be a few weeks out. But we won’t know until we have the scans. The important thing is no further stress today."

The physio helped Reece into a light brace to stabilize the ankle for transport to the imaging room.

"Alright," Thomas said, standing up. "Let’s get these scans done and know what we’re working with. After that, we can plan the next steps."

Niels gave a short nod. "Good. I’ll be waiting for the results. The squad will need clarity, and we’ll adjust as soon as we know."

Reece took a deep breath and slowly followed Thomas toward the door, leaning lightly on the brace and crutches. Niels watched him go, already calculating possible lineups, adjustments, and rotations for the matches ahead.

Reece was wheeled into the imaging room while Niels returned to his office, rubbing his temples lightly.

Ellis at right-back worked in his favor, but there were still tactical questions: How to cover overlaps? Should Dev or Kieron adjust their positioning?

Could the diamond formation remain balanced with a slightly less experienced defender?

Thomas entered shortly afterward, tablet in hand, his expression careful but professional.

"The scans are underway," he said. "We should have preliminary results in an hour. I’ll call you as soon as we know more."

Niels nodded, running a hand over his face. "Good. For now, let’s keep it quiet with the players. They need the rest, and we don’t want to stress them before we know the seriousness of the injury."

Thomas agreed. "Right. I’ll keep Reece comfortable, ensure he’s iced and elevated, and monitor his pain. No walking or unnecessary movement until we have the report."

Thomas then added. "I’ll prepare a few tactical notes for you just contingency plans. Nothing heavy, just enough for when we have certainty."

Niels exhaled, letting his shoulders relax slightly. "Good. The rest of the squad can take the day for themselves. They’ve earned it after yesterday. Our job now is damage control and planning quietly in the background."

Niels leaned back in the chair outside the imaging room, rubbing his temples.

His phone buzzed repeatedly on the table. Headlines from local sports media, alerts from news apps, and social media notifications all demanded attention.

One article highlighted Crawley’s performance against Brighton: "Crawley Holds League Leaders to Draw, Tactical Brilliance and Team Spirit Shine." Another praised Max’s equalizer: "Captain’s Strike Shows Leadership and Determination."

Scrolling further, he saw mentions of Reece. "Reece Darby’s heroic clearance might have saved Crawley but concern grows over potential injury." Local forums and fan threads speculated nervously: How long would he be out? Could Ellis step up? Would Crawley’s defense suffer in upcoming fixtures?

Thomas appeared from the corridor, tablet in hand. "I’ve seen some of the media coverage," he said quietly. "Fans are thrilled with the performance, but they’re concerned about Reece. We’ll need to manage that narrative carefully, we don’t want undue panic."

Niels nodded, staring out the window at the quiet training ground. "I know. I just... I can’t help thinking about the gap his absence would leave. We were already stretched at full intensity yesterday, and now..." He trailed off, running a hand through his hair.

Thomas gave a reassuring nod. "We’ll deal with the tactical adjustments once we have the scan results. For now, let him rest and stabilize. The squad has a rest day, let them actually rest."

Niels allowed himself a slow breath, focusing on that.

He picked up his phone again, scrolling through a few more reports, seeing both admiration for the team and concern for the young defender.

Even in praise, the pressure was clear: Crawley had earned respect, but the season was unforgiving and injuries could change everything.

Three days. That was all the time left before the next league match. A short window for recovery, for training adjustments, for ensuring the squad remained sharp. And three days later, the FA Cup Round 3 would begin.

The schedule was brutal. December had already taken its toll: packed fixtures, travel, and the mental pressure of competing against teams at every level.

Niels rubbed his temples again. "Three days to recover... then another game... and a cup tie immediately after another three days. We can’t afford a slip anywhere...

And with the schedule closing in, mistakes wouldn’t wait for anyone."