Paired With Fate

Chapter Sixteen

Zandre gripped the thick, red rubber band in his hand while his arms made the motions of throwing the ball to one side and slightly behind his body.  The band stretched along with his arm, resisting increasingly as it thinned, while his arm muscles somewhat echoed the sentiment.  However, the movement remained steady and seemingly with ease, while the man performing this action counted to a number in his head.  Once he was satisfied, he let go of the relaxed band, only to regain hold of it in his other hand and begin the same exercise in mirror image.

"Looking good!" an assistant coach patted the thick muscles in Zee's upper arm once he'd completed the steps. 

"Thanks," Zee replied, wiping the sweat within his palms on an offered towel before following the assistant to a piece of weighted apparatus in order to work certain muscles in his legs.

He'd just sat down upon the bench of the machine, when he overheard two of his team mates muttering to each other as they passed by him.  "The manager looked pissed," one was saying, while the other nodded and both glanced back towards the hallway of the gym or more likely, towards the office that their coach used when not leading their training.

Zandre sighed, waiting as the assistant altered the weights to conform for his needs, his mind wandering for a moment.  The game that they had just had this weekend had not really gone as well as it should have done.  Not that Zee and most of his team mates were conceited, but the other side were at the lower end of the rugby league tables, having had two unfortunate years, while they were closer to the top.  Statistically, his team were stronger, smarter and more able.  However, those statistics, at the end of the day, were just on paper.

There were many things that they lacked in performance during the game, however what likely stood out in the manager's mind was that his 'star' flanker was benched, while the blindside flanker who had been on the field fumbled twice allowing the other side to steal possession of the ball both times and even score off of that once!  That guy was not a bad player, though was better known for his hefty tackles, using his ridiculous bulk as an obstruction.  The coach had often used him as a Prop in the past, although he now favoured talents signed from other teams in more recent months.  He'd clearly just not been on his game that day and as his position used to be the one Zandre was known for, he simply stood out more.

That said, if it wasn't for that tackle of that man's in the last few minutes of the game, they would not be able to claim victory with their close score.  Instead, they would have left the field with their tails tucked between their legs after congratulating their opponents.

A loud slam broke Zee from his revere and the gym fell to silence.  "Outside, now!" The coach yelled from the entrance.  Zee inwardly sighed once more.  It seemed the coach was going to take his mood out on them during field training.  Not that he'd ever go too far, their bodies were valuable after all and overworking them could be detrimental and screw up future games and his future as a coach.  Instead, he'd yell and scream red faced, while they threw the ball in sets, practiced tackles or short sprints.

Still, he ached by the end of training, both physically and mentally and couldn't wait to get home and sink into his leather sofa.  He didn't linger overly long upon it though.

His kitchen fridge was stuffed with fruit and vegetables, but he was no cook.  Instead, he relied on a series of nutritional meals packed away in his freezer; usually base soup stocks containing cooked meat or fish or sauces for pasta.  All he had to do was heat them up and add some vegetables, which was exactly what he did.  And while he waited for the beef stew, in this case, to simmer, he reached for his phone and quickly typed a text.

Hey, just got home.  Heating beef stew.

His phone pinged a few minutes later with a response.