Harbinger Of Glory

By the time the trio entered the conference room, the surroundings had been rearranged for the evening.

The long rows of meeting tables were gone, replaced by round tables spread across the room and a buffet that stretched almost the length of one wall.

Steam rose from trays of food.

Pasta. Risotto. Roasted meats.

Things Leo recognised immediately and things he couldn’t name but intended to try anyway.

Beside it was a separate table carrying desserts and another drinks, and the room itself was already alive.

All around, groups of players stood talking in clusters while others had claimed tables and were halfway through plates of food with laughter and snippets of conversation floating around.

As Leo stepped inside, he slowed a bit, eyes searching like a kid at an amusement park, and this was mostly because of the people in the room.

A few metres away stood Leonardo Bonucci, deep in conversation with two members of staff.

Across the room, Gianluigi Donnarumma was laughing at something one of the goalkeepers had said.

Further back, Leo spotted Alessandro Bastoni, Mateo Retegui, Jorginho and Marco Verratti all locked in conversations.

Most were names he’d grown up hearing and watched on television, yet now they were standing around eating appetisers and talking about completely normal things.

Beside him, Carlo looked around and let out a slow breath.

"I feel incredibly out of place."

Leo laughed, though it wasn’t really genuine.

"Me too."

The trio had made it only a few metres when they heard steps behind them, followed by someone tapping Leo on the shoulder.

When they turned, their expressions couldn’t help but brighten up.

"Coach," they muttered almost simultaneously as Marco Piatelli smiled.

"Good. You’re all here."

At the sound of his voice, they immediately looked far more relaxed than they had a few seconds earlier.

"Coach," Udogie said. "What are you doing here?"

Marco spread his arms.

"What? You thought you were the only ones moving up in football?"

The three younger players exchanged glances as Marco smiled.

"Spalletti asked me to join his coaching staff after he joined. So in actuality, you guys should be thanking me for your call-ups since I suggested your profiles to him and I guess he liked them."

"Congratulations and thank you if what you said is true," Leo said as Carlo and Udogie nodded.

"Seriously," Carlo added.

"That’s huge."

Marco accepted the praise with a simple smile.

"Thank you."

After that, he turned and pointed around the room.

"Now stop standing together as you’ve just arrived on a school trip."

At that, the three of them laughed as Marco gestured toward the rest of the players.

"Go meet people."

"Socialise and meet your new teammates. It will be better for you in the long run."

"You’re part of this team now."

Before any words could come out of the side of the trio, he pointed toward Bonucci.

"Think of that guy as your grandpa or something."

Then toward Jorginho.

"And that guy as the uncle you never really wanted but you need."

Then he stepped backwards.

"Enjoy yourselves."

With that, he disappeared into the room.

Unfortunately, it turned out that following his advice was considerably easier in theory than in practice.

At least for Leo.

Twenty minutes later, he was sitting at one of the tables near the back with a plate of food.

Across the room, Udogie was already talking comfortably with Jorginho and two other senior players, while Carlo had somehow found himself caught up in a conversation with Bastoni.

With nothing but his plate of food, Leo found his phone and opened his WhatsApp before clicking on Vittoria’s chat.

Leo: At team dinner.

Leo: Feel weird.

The reply arrived almost instantly.

Vittoria: Are there girls there?

Leo stared at the message and then laughed.

Leo: It’s a national team dinner.

When his reply had gone through, three dots appeared before disappearing and then appearing again, like Vittoria was contemplating what to say.

A moment later, her reply came.

Vittoria: That wasn’t my question.

Leo, seeing his girlfriend double down, shook his head before answering.

Leo: No.

A few seconds later, a message arrived.

Vittoria: That’s good then. As for you feeling bored, you can leave if you want.

"This girl," Leo muttered as he chuckled at her reply.

Leo: I don’t think it works like that!

Vittoria: Nobody is going to crucify you for leaving dinner.

Leo was halfway through typing a reply when a microphone squealed loudly enough to grab the attention of the entire room.

Suddenly, conversations began fading.

At the front of the room, Marco Piatelli stood beside a microphone.

"There we go."

At that, a few laughs spread through the room as Marco smiled.

"Good evening, everyone. My name, as some of you know, or not, is Marco Piatelli. I won’t keep you long."

"I’d like to welcome all of you back to Coverciano," he said while his eyes moved around the room.

"Some of you have been here dozens of times."

Then they landed briefly on Leo.

"And some of you are here for the first time."

A few players glanced toward the unfamiliar faces.

"You’ve all earned your place."

"Whether that came through your performances in Serie A, the Premier League, Ligue 1 or anywhere else."

After that, he seemed to nod slightly as if to affirm his point.

"And now I’d like to introduce the man who’s going to say the things you’re actually here to hear."

After that, the room descended into a round of applause immediately as Luciano Spalletti stepped forward.

Leo joined in, noticing Carlo and Udogie appearing beside his table as the applause continued.

Spalletti waited for it to die down, then he smiled.

"When they told me I had to give a speech before dinner, I considered resigning."

The room laughed as the veteran coach folded his arms.

"All of you know where Italian football has been recently."

"We won a European Championship, but after that, we spent too much time talking about what Italy used to be."

"We’ve missed tournaments."

"We’ve disappointed people."

"And we’ve disappointed ourselves, but that’s finished. The players in this room are not here to remember the past."

You’re here to build the future. You all have different qualities, different careers and different stories, but every one of you has a role to play."

For a moment nobody moved.

Then Spalletti smiled again.

"Now," he said as he pointed toward the buffet.

"I’ve already spoken too much. Enjoy your dinner but not too much."

The room broke into applause again as Spalletti stepped away from the microphone and headed toward Marco.

The two exchanged a few quiet words, but then, through it, Marco casually pointed across the room towards Leo.

Spalletti’s eyes followed, and for a second, the veteran coach simply looked at him and then smiled.