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... arade still wore the damp smell of soaked concrete and old winter. Steam curled from players' shoulders in the pre-match lineups, boots tapping lightly in place, nervous energy humming beneath the floodlights.
Jake stood just outside the dugout, coat zipped to his throat, hands buried deep in his pockets. Not out of habit—but because the final week before Europe wasn't just tactical. It was psychological. Every touch mattered now. Every rhythm set tonight would echo five nights later und ...
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