THE GREATEST OF ALL TIME

Zachary concentrated chiefly on training for the next few days. He would start his day with stretches and a yoga routine followed by a five-mile jog before sunrise. He would then feast on a sumptuous breakfast, carefully selected by a nutritionist recommended by one of his coaches, before heading to Lerkendal and participating in Rosenborg's official team training.

In the evenings, just before sunset, he would attend a two-hour gym or cone drill session directed by Coach Bjørn Peters, his fitness trainer, before heading back home. At night, just after having dinner, he would end his days with another yoga routine before retiring for the night.

Day in, day out, he constantly exerted himself and approached his limits by training like never before. His determination was almost soaring through the sky and shooting to the heavens. Nothing could divert his attention from his pursuits — not even Camilla, his beautiful and charming girlfriend.

Be it the weight training, the cone drills, the stretching, the shuttle runs, and knee tuck classic planks — he performed them with a hundred percent zest. He followed the training regimen designed by Coach Bjørn Peters to the letter, never missing a single repetition of the included workouts.

What were a little sweat and a brief period of solitude versus achieving his goals? Nothing mattered except honing his skills and raising his fitness to the next level.

He was the ultimate incarnation of an exercising demon, sparing time for nothing else. His yearning to increase his body fitness, especially his body control and agility, in a short period pushed him to cast away all distractions and overcome all obstacles, including his physical limitations. He was a man with a clear goal in mind and didn't complain a single time as he performed routine after routine for days to the best of his ability.

Despite his intensive personal training, his performance during official Rosenborg team training sessions remained stellar. He was still hardworking and brilliant whenever the Rosenborg coaches instructed him to perform a drill or work with the ball during practice. It was like he possessed unlimited reserves of stamina since he was relying on the system's physical-conditioning-elixirs to push through hectic exercising regimens.

His work rate astounded many. Even Coach Johansen, who was often guarded with his compliments, lauded his relentlessness, perseverance, and level of focus in those few days before the Norwegian Cup final. While assisted by the system, he was simply a tireless monster in human skin.

The days passed quickly, seemingly in a flash, as Zachary toiled day in and day out to improve himself. The weather gradually grew colder, and the days became shorter as winter approached with regal ease. However, all that didn't affect Zachary's training in the slightest.

There was a fire burning within him despite the growing coldness around Trondheim. It was the flame of ambition, akin to a series of never-ending sparks that spurred him on to give his all in those rare few days without competitive football. He didn't even feel the passing of days as his entire focus was on honing his skills and raising his fitness. And without him realizing, the day of the Norwegian Cup final grew nearer and nearer, sending the entire Norwegian football community into a hubbub of activity.

**** ****

Thursday, November 21, 2013.

It was another cold evening with Trondheim tucked under a woolen dove-grey sky. Dusk had come sooner than expected, stealing away all warmth as the last of the sun's rays became cosseted behind the soft grey clouds.

Yet, on that chilly evening which could induce shudders within any warm-blooded creature, there was activity ensuing on a particular training ground at Lerkendal.

Two men — one black and another Caucasian, were going through a series of agility and endurance-enhancing drills under the illumination of the floodlights that encircled the training ground.

Clad in lavish sets of cold-resistant sports gear, including hoodies, gloves, rain jackets, and tights, they went about their business in an orderly and systematic way. Whenever the Caucasian man would weave through cones and move to the left, the tall black man would instantly follow. Whenever the former would make an abrupt turn, the latter would do the same. They were like a pair of synchronized gymnasts, performing drill after drill uniformly without mistakes.

"Let's do one more set of crisscrossing shuttle runs before we stretch and call it a day," the Caucasian said in an authoritative tone in between gasps of breath. He was Bjørn Peters, Zachary's fitness coach.

"Aye, coach," Zachary replied, wiping the moisture off his brow with the sleeve of his jacket. He was sweating despite the cold.

"Just follow my lead," Coach Bjørn Peters instructed with a smile. "One, two, three... Let's go!"

He took off like a bullet without waiting for Zachary to respond. Zachary was, of course, already used to his fitness trainer's tricks. He took less than a second to gather himself and mirror the coach's actions. Soon, the two of them were doing crisscrossing shuttle run after shuttle run like a pair of pre-programmed androids.

Run, abrupt-turn, touch the ground, and then run again — they went through the drill with a hundred percent focus, without taking any breaks.

"That's enough for today," Coach Bjørn Peters shouted a few minutes later, bringing the drill to an end. "But don't you dare rest, yet. We need to do some stretching to cool down our muscles before ending the session. Are we together, Zach?"

"Yes, coach," Zachary, agreed like a dutiful soldier.

"Good. Let's start."

The two exercise maniacs didn't waste any time getting into motion. They started with neck stretches, then did a couple of shoulder stretches before ending with a series of forward and backward arm circles. After taking a few seconds of rest, they went straight into stretching their lower bodies. Butt kicks, knee hugs, front-to-back leg swings, lateral hip swings, rotational windmills, and ankle rotations — they performed all the stretches in sequence without cutting corners. They only ended their movements ten minutes later when they were out of breath once again.

"Okay, that's the end of today's evening session," Coach Bjørn Peters said immediately after. "How do you feel?" He glanced squarely at Zachary, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"To be honest, I'm totally spent," Zachary replied while chugging down some water. "But I feel fulfilled. My muscles seem to come alive every time I go through these drills."

"That's good," the fitness trainer said, also picking up a water bottle from his gym bag. "I can tell that your fitness is improving with every passing day as we work together. As long as you persist, you'll be able to make remarkable improvements within just two to three months. That, I can promise you."

"Then, I'm glad," Zachary said with a smile. "I'm willing to do any kind of exercise that can improve my fitness quickly."

"Good," the fitness trainer said, giving Zachary a thumbs-up. "But you should also note that too much haste in fitness training makes waste. Training continuously for long periods without giving the muscles time to recover will not yield the expected results. Rather, such training may cause more harm than good. Are we together, Zachary?"

"Yes, coach." Zachary nodded.

Of course, he understood he had to rest for a couple of days in-between successive intensive training regimens. However, on his part, he didn't need a lot of time to recover since he possessed an ample supply of cheat-like elixirs from the system shop.

With just a B-grade dosage of a physical-conditioning-elixir, he could condense the necessary recovery time from days into hours and continue training without facing any mishaps. So, he wasn't worried that he would break himself due to intensive training. However, since the coach didn't know about his cheat-like elixirs, he still needed to humor him by continuing to listen seriously.

"It's good that you understand," Coach Bjørn Peters said with a smile. "If I recall correctly, your face-off against Molde in the Norwegian Cup finals is on Sunday at 2:00 PM. Is that right?"

"Yes, coach," Zachary answered. "That's true."

"Then, roughly two days are remaining to the match," he said, caressing his chin as his eyes focused far off in the distance. He looked like he was deep in thought, pondering something before his eyes abruptly returned to the moment a dozen or so seconds later.

"For the next two days, we won't be doing any intensive exercises," the fitness instructor announced suddenly.

"Why?" Zachary couldn't help but frown.

"The reason is simple," Coach Bjørn Peters articulated, a signature professional smile outlining his face. "Your muscles need time to recover and get back into tip-top shape before the final. Otherwise, if we keep on with the same training system until Sunday, you'll risk injuring yourself during the match. Even if you don't suffer any injury, you'll still not perform at your best since you will be suffering from a light case of muscle fatigue."

"Ohhh!" Zachary said a bit doubtfully.

He wanted to voice a complaint but then stopped himself on second thought. He'd hired the fitness coach with the intent of receiving professional guidance from him and avoiding pitfalls like injuries that would hamper his training. So, he wasn't about to disregard his instructions just because he was impatient to raise his attributes to another level.

"So, for the next two days, we'll have to take it easy," the coach continued in an enthusiastic tone, obviously unaware of Zachary's inner reflections. "You're only allowed to do yoga, a couple of stretching routines, and some light ball work until Sunday. I'll also take you for a professional sports massage tomorrow and the day after so that we can help your muscles recover much quicker than usual. Are we together, Zachary?"

"Yes, coach," Zachary replied, making sure to maintain a polite smile on his face the entire time.

"I'll repeat this once again to ensure that we're on the same page," the coach said in a solemn tone. "Remember, you're not allowed to do any intensive exercises before the final. That's the only thing I'm requesting from you this time around, Zachary."

"Coach, I get it," Zachary replied. "I have taken your words to heart and won't be doing any intensive exercises until after the match. Please, be rest assured."

"That's good, then," the fitness trainer said, picking up his gym bag from the green. "Let's call it a day for now. I'll see you tomorrow when we're heading for the massage."

"Okay, see you tomorrow, Coach," Zachary said. "Thanks for the guidance. Have a goodnight."

"Goodnight to you too, Zach!" the coach replied before starting to walk away. "Don't stay up late."

"Aye, coach"