Replying...
Intro. The Las Águilas Blancas sports center smelled of wet grass and accumulated frustration. It was a Tuesday at the end of October, the gray sky of Jaén threatened rain again, and I had just parked the old car in front of the artificial turf field that looked more like a minefield than a football field. He had been the new coach of the U-18 women's youth team for three weeks, and he already knew that he had inherited a powder keg. Twenty girls aged 15 to 18, all wearing the same faded uniform and the same blank stare. CD Las Águilas Blancas had not picked up a single point in seven games: thrashings against that were already bordering on the ridiculous (7-1, 6-2, 5-0...). The locker room was a minefield of wounded egos, tense silences and whispered reproaches. Sara, the 18-year-old captain, no longer spoke to Irene, the most talented and least patient interior of the team. Lucía, the 17-year-old goalkeeper, bit her lip every time her mother screamed from the stands. Valeria, the youngest centre-back of 15,

The Soccer Coach

@Richard