THE GREATEST OF ALL TIME

Zachary woke up to the sound of his phone's alarm the following morning. As his slumber lifted, he opened his eyes, eager to take in the growing brightness of the rising sun. However, the next moment, he felt a sensation of tiredness creep all over him. His every eyelash seemed to weigh more than it should, while the gravity acting on his body appeared to have multiplied by a factor of ten overnight.

After spending hours worrying about Camilla's situation, he'd only managed to find sleep around 3:00 AM the previous night. Thus, his head was still foggy and yearning for more hours of rest. But as a professional footballer, he couldn't give in to that temptation, especially since he had to prepare and head to the Vinovo as soon as possible. Otherwise, he might miss the team bus to the airport and, in so doing, miss the opportunity to partake in Juventus' Champions League match against Atlético Madrid.

"What time is it?" He wondered while scooping up his phone from the bedside table. He glanced at the screen and immediately learned it was thirty-five minutes past six in the morning. He could thus relax since he still had close to an hour to prepare and get to the Vinovo.

"Oh right," Zachary thought, sitting upright on the bed, "I should try Camilla's number before anything else. Hope she picks."

He immediately dialed Camilla's number before holding the phone against his ear. The anxiety from the previous night came flooding back to him as the dial tone sounded. But he took a deep breath to calm himself down and continued waiting. He forced himself to remain patient until Camilla's voice sounded from the other end of the line.

"Hello," she said, sounding a bit sleepy.

"Hello, Camilla," Zachary responded, "How are you today? Are you already out of the hospital?"

"I'm okay, but still in the hospital. The doctors insisted on conducting a few more tests before discharging me."

"That should be good news. Right?"

"Honestly, I don't know. I have to wait for the results from the medical tests to understand my condition."

"Oh, I see," Zachary said and turned silent. He waited a few seconds before continuing, "I'm sorry to hear about your condition. And more than anything, I'm sorry I can't be there for you at this trying moment."

"I understand," she replied, "There's no need for apologies. I know you can't be away from the club, especially with all the matches coming up. And by the way, don't you have a game against Atlético Madrid today?"

"Yes, I do," Zachary responded.

"Are you ready?"

"I'm not sure. But I guess I'll manage."

"Why aren't you sure?" She asked. "Where's the ever-confident Zachary?"

"How can I be in top condition after knowing about your circumstances? I'm not a robot, you know."

Camilla chuckled. "You don't have to worry. I feel fine. I'll most likely be out of the hospital by noon today. So, focus, and prepare for your game. Don't get distracted. I'll feel guilty if you play poorly just because of me."

"I'll try to do my best," Zachary promised and continued conversing with Camilla. They exchanged more small talk for a few more minutes before they ended the call on a positive note.

"That went well," Zachary mumbled and placed the phone to the side before jumping out of bed. He was soon in autopilot mode, going through his morning yoga routine, then washing up and having breakfast before exiting his hotel room with his suitcase in tow. He boarded Angelo's Citroën a few minutes later, and the two of them commenced their short journey to the Vinovo.

Zachary's spirits had brightened up again after his phone call with Camilla. Even after not sleeping for almost the entire night, he was ready to head to Madrid, Spain, with his teammates and partake in Juventus' Champions League game. At least, that was what he thought despite his weary appearance.

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Under the gentle glow of the just-risen sun, Coach Allegri's face was all smiles as he watched his players assemble in front of the team bus in the Vinovo's parking lot. He could tell that his starting eleven and substitutes were in good condition with one sweep of his experienced and discerning gaze. They all seemed to have rested well and were ready to head to Madrid and battle the tricky Atlético Madrid side.

"These players are really disciplined," he thought as he continued observing the players. His gaze darted around the place, passing over Andrea Pirlo, Arturo Vidal, Buffon, and the other players. He was trying to ensure that all his starting eleven and substitutes were okay. But just then, he spotted someone sitting on the ground close to the railing demarcating the parking lot. When the coach focused, he realized that Zachary was the person in question, and he seemed fast asleep while leaning on the railing.

"Che cazzo..." The coach couldn't help but mumble a few expletives in his native Italian language. His eyebrows involuntarily knitted together, and he stepped through the crowd of players, heading towards Zachary. The glint in his eyes grew fiercer as he walked forward, and naturally, all the players made way for him. They didn't even dare to wake up their sleeping teammate as they seemed to fear the wrath of their coach.

"Zachary..." Coach Allegri yelled after finally reaching the young Maestro. "Zachary?" He shook him awake.

Zachary slowly opened his eyes the next moment. For a few seconds, he glanced about him, seemingly out of his wits. He was obviously still trying to escape the comforting sensation of his sweet and peaceful slumber.

"Zachary!" Coach Allegri shouted again.

"Yes, coach," Zachary replied almost by instinct that time around. He shook his head as if to clear his head — and immediately focused on the coach standing before him.

"Why do you seem like a person who didn't sleep yesterday night?" Coach Allegri asked in Italian while keeping his scorching gaze on Zachary's face. "Are you okay?"

In response, Zachary blanked out for a moment and turned to his teammates for help.

"Oh, damn it!" Coach Allegri sighed. "I forgot that he doesn't speak Italian." He turned to Maurizio Trombetta, his assistant, and said, "Coach Trombetta! Tell him to follow me. I need to talk to him before we depart for Madrid."

"Okay, I'll notify him," Coach Trombetta readily agreed. Without further ado, he approached Zachary and relayed the coach's instructions. His English was fluent, and he made sure that Zachary understood that the coach wanted to talk to him immediately.

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Silence reigned supreme as Zachary followed the two coaches out of the parking lot. The rest of the Juventus players didn't say a word as they watched his receding back with weird gazes. It was only when his silhouette disappeared inside one of the buildings of the training center that they resumed their conversations. And naturally, the main topic of discussion was Zachary's strange behavior that morning.

"So," Fernando Llorente was among the first to break the silence. "What was up with Zachary?" He asked Evra.

"I don't know," Evra replied. "But if I may guess, he might just have been taking a small nap before the journey. I don't understand why the coach is making a big deal out of it."

"A small nap!" Fernando said, his tone skeptical. "He seemed so totally out of it. The coach had to shake him awake several times before he regained his senses."

"Indeed, that's strange," Evra said. "And I don't get why he didn't wait for us to board the plane before taking his nap. He would have avoided the coach's scrutiny that way."

"I think there is something wrong with him," Fernando supplied.

"Let's hope that's not the case," Andrea Pirlo, who was nearby, chimed in abruptly. "We need him to be okay. We need him in the evening against Atlético Madrid."

"True," Evra said. "Let's hope that he's okay."

-----

In the meantime, Zachary was already facing the coaches in one of the tactics rooms at the Vinovo. Despite his circumstances, he was relaxed since he was sure he hadn't done anything wrong.

"Okay, Zachary," Coach Trombetta was the first to break the silence in the room. "We're just checking. Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine," Zachary replied with a smile.

"Then, why were you fast asleep in the parking lot?" Coach Trombetta followed up with another question. "You seemed like you hadn't slept a wink in weeks. Why is that?"

Zachary thought for a moment and sighed. He took a deep breath and told the two coaches about the unfortunate news he'd received from Camilla yesterday night. He also mentioned how he couldn't sleep afterward with the intent to ensure they understood his circumstances clearly.

"I'm sorry to hear about your girlfriend," Coach Trombetta said after hearing his tale. Without further ado, he turned towards Coach Allegri and started translating Zachary's words. He spewed rapid Italian sentences for about a minute before turning to Zachary once again.

"So, Zachary," Coach Trombetta articulated, "We now understand your circumstances. And we must ask: Can you still feature in today's game against Atlético Madrid? Or do you need time to recover from this setback?"

"I think I'm ready to play," Zachary replied.

"You think, or you know?" Coach Trombetta pressed. "This is an important match. We can't mess it up."

Zachary thought for a moment and said, "As long as I sleep during the day, I'm sure I'll be able to perform in the evening."

"At a hundred percent?" Coach Trombetta asked again.

"I'm not sure about the hundred percent," Zachary admitted. "I can only answer that after stepping onto the pitch."

Coach Trombetta nodded and turned towards Coach Allegri. The two men then wasted no time immersing themselves in what seemed like another heated conversation in Italian. And finally, after about a minute, they seemed to come to an understanding and returned their focus to Zachary.

"So," Coach Trombetta said, "Coach Allegri has made a bold suggestion that will allow you to have a maximum impact against Atlético Madrid even if you're not at the top of your game. Do you want to hear it?"

"Of course," Zachary replied.

"You play as a striker in today's game," Coach Trombetta continued. "As a striker, you won't have to expend as much energy as you usually do while playing midfield. Your role will only be to apply pressure on Atlético Madrid's center-backs with just your presence while waiting for an opportunity. That way, you will be able to relax during most of the game and only spring into action when the ball comes your way."

"Do I have a choice in this matter?" Zachary asked.

"No, you don't," Coach Trombetta said, not mincing words. "Since you're not in your best condition, we prefer that you remain far away from our goal. We don't want to see you lose the ball close to our box due to a lapse in concentration. That would hurt us a great deal."

"Okay, I understand," Zachary said, taking a deep breath. "I'll follow your suggestion and play on the striking line today. Is there anything else?"

"No," Coach Trombetta responded. "You can now rejoin your teammates. But remember to get some sleep during the journey. Otherwise, we won't let you off if you mess up terribly during the game. Understood?"

"Yes, coach," Zachary replied. "I understand."

"Good." Coach Trombetta smiled and nodded. "Return to the bus. We'll be setting off for the airport in a few minutes."

"Okay," Zachary said and stood up. He nodded to the coaches before marching out of the room.

Naturally, Zachary couldn't help but think carefully about the actions of the two coaches while on his way back to the parking lot. They had been too eager to summon him just for the simple reason of sleeping before the journey. And then, they used his poor condition that morning as a convenient excuse to push him on the striking line. It was as if they had long thought about playing him in that position for the game against Atlético Madrid.

"The position doesn't matter at this point," Zachary thought. "I only need to ensure that I make a substantial impact on the pitch wherever I play. That's what's important." He geared himself up and immediately quickened his steps, eager to rejoin his teammates in the parking lot.

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