Bab 15: Rest & Reflection
The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a golden hue over the city as Marcus stretched lazily in bed. Today was a rare rest day, a break from the intense training sessions that had consumed his life. He planned to take full advantage of it, giving his body a chance to recover and his mind a chance to reset.
After a leisurely breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast, Marcus decided to go for a light jog around his neighborhood. He enjoyed the quiet mornings, the streets still waking up, the air crisp and refreshing. It gave him a chance to clear his mind and reflect on his journey so far.
As he jogged past the local park, his phone buzzed. It was his dad, Ethan. Marcus slowed to a walk and answered, his breath steady from the exercise.
"Hey, Dad," Marcus greeted, a smile spreading across his face.
"Morning, Marcus. How's the rest day treating you?" Ethan's voice was warm and familiar, a comforting presence even over the phone.
"Good so far. Just out for a jog. What's up?"
"I wanted to talk to you about the agent situation," Ethan said, his tone serious. "I reached out to an old friend of mine who used to work in sports management. He's got some contacts that might be able to help you find a reputable agent."
Marcus felt a surge of hope. "Really? That's great, Dad. I've been looking into it, but it's been overwhelming."
"I know it can be," Ethan said gently. "But don't worry. We'll find someone who can guide you properly. Just focus on your training and let me handle this for now."
"Thanks, Dad. I appreciate it."
"Anytime, Marcus."
After hanging up, Marcus felt a renewed sense of optimism. His dad always had a way of making things seem more manageable. With the agent issue potentially on its way to being resolved, Marcus could concentrate on what he loved most: playing football.
The rest of the morning passed in a relaxed haze. Marcus spent some time reading, something he rarely had the chance to do with his busy schedule. He also worked on some light stretching and yoga to keep his muscles loose. By early afternoon, he was feeling restless and decided to head back to the park.
As he approached the park, he saw a group of kids, around 17 years old, setting up for a five-a-side game. They were laughing and joking, the carefree energy of youth palpable in the air. Marcus watched them for a moment and walked over to them.
One of the kids noticed him and nudged his friend. They exchanged whispers before the bolder one called out, "Hey, you wanna join in or what?"
Marcus hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. "Sure, why not? Just for fun."
Marcus joined their team, ready to relive the simple joy of playing football without the pressures of professional training. The game began, and Marcus was impressed by their skill and enthusiasm. They played with a raw passion that reminded him of why he fell in love with the sport in the first place.
During the game, Marcus found himself moving effortlessly, his body responding instinctively to the rhythm of the match. He dribbled past defenders with ease, set up his teammates for goals, and even scored a few himself. The kids were in awe, but Marcus was just happy to be playing for the sheer joy of it.
As the game wrapped up and the kids gathered around Marcus, one of them, a boy with a mop of curly hair and a wide grin, asked a question that caught Marcus off guard.
"Hey, Marcus," the boy began, "why do you play on the wing? You're amazing at dribbling and passing. You could be an incredible central attacking midfielder."
Marcus hesitated, the question striking a chord deep within him. The truth was something he rarely shared, even with those closest to him. He took a moment to gather his thoughts, looking at the eager faces around him.
"It's a good question," Marcus finally said, choosing his words carefully. "I guess it comes down to my dad. He played as a winger, and growing up, I always wanted to be like him. He was my hero, you know? So, I naturally gravitated toward that position."
The kids nodded, understanding flashing in their eyes. The bond between father and son was something they could relate to, even if they didn't know all the details.
The boy who asked the question grinned. " That makes sense. Your dad must be really proud of you."
Marcus felt a warmth spread through him at the boy's words. "I hope so."
With that, Marcus said his goodbyes and started his walk back home, feeling lighter and more connected to his roots. The rest day had turned out to be more than just physical recovery—it was a reminder of why he played football in the first place and the legacy he was carrying forward.
PERTIMBANGAN PENCIPTA 
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