2025-07-20, 12:58 PM - Word count:
"Red Bull?"
Nyron looked up from tying his boots. His manager stood over him, a can in his outstretched hand.
Nyron didn't usually like energy drinks, but today he was incredibly tired. His last two days had been travelling halfway the world - from Montego Bay to Doha via Boston on the first, an overnight stay in Qatar, then a flight to Jakarta. After one night to acclimatise, Port Royal were 5 minutes away from the 3pm kickoff of their away game at PS Jakarta. That's 3am Jamaican time.
"Thanks, gaffer."
Nyron opened the can, took a sip, and winced at the sour chemical taste. He turned to his teammate Alejandro Fuecoco.
"How do you drink this every day, Ally?"
"Que?"
Prick. He understood just fine. Nyron was too tired for the banter - they'd been to 4 continents in their 5 away trips so far. No wonder they hadn't won any of them.
The caffeine didn't hit until his bloodstream until he dragged himself out onto the pitch. All of a sudden, Nyron felt sharp.
It didn't take long for his teammate Beezle Bot to find him in the right channel - Nyron feinted left and burst past his defender to the right, lashing a shot inside the far post with his right foot. He celebrated like Maradona scoring against Greece in 1994.
The rest of the first half was a blur until the ball was played to him just outside the box after a Port Royal corner. With his first touch, he put it between the defender's legs and skipped past, his second was a rocket of a shot high into the near top corner.
Nosworthy felt an arm around his shoulders as he walked off at half time.
"What was that? You don't even try that stuff in training" his manager grinned.
Nyron grinned back.
"Got any more Red Bulls?"
Nyron looked up from tying his boots. His manager stood over him, a can in his outstretched hand.
Nyron didn't usually like energy drinks, but today he was incredibly tired. His last two days had been travelling halfway the world - from Montego Bay to Doha via Boston on the first, an overnight stay in Qatar, then a flight to Jakarta. After one night to acclimatise, Port Royal were 5 minutes away from the 3pm kickoff of their away game at PS Jakarta. That's 3am Jamaican time.
"Thanks, gaffer."
Nyron opened the can, took a sip, and winced at the sour chemical taste. He turned to his teammate Alejandro Fuecoco.
"How do you drink this every day, Ally?"
"Que?"
Prick. He understood just fine. Nyron was too tired for the banter - they'd been to 4 continents in their 5 away trips so far. No wonder they hadn't won any of them.
The caffeine didn't hit until his bloodstream until he dragged himself out onto the pitch. All of a sudden, Nyron felt sharp.
It didn't take long for his teammate Beezle Bot to find him in the right channel - Nyron feinted left and burst past his defender to the right, lashing a shot inside the far post with his right foot. He celebrated like Maradona scoring against Greece in 1994.
The rest of the first half was a blur until the ball was played to him just outside the box after a Port Royal corner. With his first touch, he put it between the defender's legs and skipped past, his second was a rocket of a shot high into the near top corner.
Nosworthy felt an arm around his shoulders as he walked off at half time.
"What was that? You don't even try that stuff in training" his manager grinned.
Nyron grinned back.
"Got any more Red Bulls?"
