The Tradition of a Reds Captain

With the holiday over, Liverpool's Melwood training ground became lively again.

With a UEFA Champions League group-stage match coming up midweek, Klopp's training schedule for the day focused on relaxation and recovery.

The players jogged across the grass, passed the ball around, and did some light stretching. Whenever someone pulled off a flashy trick, it immediately drew a chorus of jeers.

"Hey, hey, hey, Roberto, you actually dared to show off in front of Annuo? Who gave you the nerve?"

"Get lost! This is called art. What do you lot know?"

"Hahaha, you call that art? Did Virgil knock you stupid just now?"

The training ground was full of laughter, and the atmosphere was relaxed. It did not look like they were preparing for an upcoming UEFA Champions League match at all.

But Chen Anno noticed someone.

Arnold.

The young man who was usually the loudest in training and loved fooling around with everyone else was unusually quiet today.

He took several heavy touches while running and misplaced two passes, which rarely happened before.

When training ended, the players headed toward the locker room in twos and threes. Arnold walked at the back with his head lowered.

"Trent." Chen Anno called out to him. "Stay a while and do some extra crossing practice with me."

Arnold froze for a moment, then nodded. "Okay."

The two of them remained on the training ground.

Chen Anno fed Arnold the ball again and again, having him practice crosses from the byline.

Arnold's first few crosses were passable, but the more he continued, the stiffer his movements became. One cross even flew straight over the end line.

"Take a break." Chen Anno stopped him and tossed him a bottle of water. "Trent, you seem distracted today."

Arnold took the water and lowered his head