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Chapter 117: Player of the Month
🕑 Added 2025-01-31 00:45:46 +0000 UTCSeptember 11, 2014: Belvoir Drive Training Ground: Early Morning
…..
The morning session had been brutal. High-intensity rondos, relentless pressing drills, and a finishing circuit that had the strikers firing shot after shot until their legs burned. The September sun hung low over the training ground, casting a warm glow over the exhausted Leicester squad as they finally wound down.
Players lay scattered across the grass, some stretching, others sprawled out, catching their breath.
Tristan sat with his legs stretched out, sweat dripping down his face, his shirt sticking uncomfortably to his back. Beside him were Mahrez and Cambiasso, who looked unbothered, taking a slow sip from his bottle, his eyes scanning the younger players around him.
"You see them?" Cambiasso smirked, nodding toward a group of players who had just collapsed near the edge of the training pitch. "Dead on their feet."
Tristan followed his gaze and let out a tired chuckle. Liam Moore and Matty James were both flat on their backs, arms spread out like they’d just finished a marathon.
"You’d think we played ninety minutes," Moore groaned, wiping sweat from his forehead.
"Mate, I don’t think I’ve ever run this much in a game," James added, still staring at the sky.
On the far side, Vardy, as if running on an endless fuel supply, was still bouncing lightly on his toes.
"Oi, you lot look finished already!" Vardy grinned, tossing a half-empty bottle of water at Danny, who barely reacted as it bounced off his chest.
"Because we are," Drinkwater muttered, sitting up and rubbing his face. "I swear these sessions get harder every week."
Tristan smirked, shaking his head as he leaned back onto his elbows. Mahrez, sitting cross-legged next to him, let out a dramatic sigh.
"They do, man. The coach wants us to play at full tempo all the time." He took a deep breath, pushing his damp hair away from his forehead. "It’s like—press, pass, run. Then do it all over again."
"You don’t press anyway," Tristan teased, nudging Mahrez with his elbow.
The Algerian playmaker scoffed. "I press!"
Cambiasso chuckled. "You press when you lose the ball. Which isn’t often; I’ll give you that."
"Good delivery today," Ulloa called over to Tristan. "Those crosses—top quality."
Tristan nodded. "Apperciate it. You need them perfect, though, yeah? You can’t run."
The group burst into laughter as Ulloa raised his hands in mock offense.
From the side, Marc Albrighton, stretching out his hamstrings, joined in. "Tristan’s just saying what we’re all thinking, Leo. You’re about as quick as Crouchy."
"Crouchy’s a legend," Ulloa shrugged. "I’ll take that."
Cambiasso chuckled and turned to Tristan. "¿Cómo te sientes?" (How do you feel?)
Tristan exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Cansado.” (Tired.)
Cambiasso laughed. "Bien, pero necesitas decir 'Estoy cansado.' No solo 'Cansado'." (Good, but you need to say, 'I am tired.' Not just 'Tired.')
Tristan frowned, wiping his forehead with his wrist. “Estoy… cansado.”
Cambiasso nodded in approval. "Mejor. Poco a poco, lo aprenderás." (Better. Little by little, you'll learn it.)
Tristan rolled his shoulders, still catching his breath. “Mi… mi español es malo.”
Cambiasso raised an eyebrow, amused. "Es mejor que el español de Vardy." (It’s better than Vardy’s Spanish.)
Tristan grinned. “Eso no es diffícil." (That’s not hard.)
Cambiasso laughed, clapping him on the back. "Muy cierto." (Very true.)
Just then, one of the club staff members jogged toward them, clipboard in hand. “Tristan!” he called out, slightly out of breath. “Got some news for you.”
Tristan looked up, shielding his eyes from the sun. “Yeah?”
The staff member grinned. “You’ve been nominated for Premier League Player of the Month.And the boss was also nominated for along with Mourinho, Monk, and Lambert.”
Vardy, sitting a few feet away, let out a loud whistle. “Bloody hell, Tristan. First month in the time making a name for yourself, did you?”
Lingard jogged over, grinning. “Oi, that’s mad. You’re in the same convo as Costa and Fàbregas now.”
"Same convo? I’m already better than them.” Tristan said, jokingly laughing.
…….
As the Premier League Player and Manager of the Month winners were announced, the football world erupted in debate.
On the managerial side, there was little argument—Garry Monk winning over José Mourinho was seen as a well-deserved triumph. While Chelsea’s start had been expected, Swansea’s three consecutive wins, led by a relatively young manager, made Monk the standout choice. Even Mourinho himself admitted in a post-match press conference that Monk had done "a fantastic job."
But the Player of the Month decision? That was another story.
Under the bright studio lights of BT Sport’s Premier League Tonight, Jake Humphrey leaned forward in his chair, setting the stage for what was quickly becoming one of the biggest debates of the season so far.
“So, the Player of the Month award for August has been announced,” he began, glancing toward the camera. “And as expected, Diego Costa has won it after a blistering start to life in the Premier League. But was it the right decision?”
To his left, Michael Owen crossed his arms, disagreeing right from the start, “Look, Diego Costa has been unstoppable. Four goals in three games for Chelsea—that’s why they’re top. He’s a natural goal scorer; he’s ruthless, and he’s made an instant impact. But end of the day, he’s just a finisher, compared to everything Tristan is doing. Two goals with four assists in three games, you tell me which is better.”
Sitting next to him, Steve McManaman frowned, shaking his head slightly as he adjusted his earpiece. “You now I gotta agree with Owen here, Tristan deserved it more than any other player in the league.A 19-year-old in his first full Premier League season, playing for a newly promoted club, and putting up four assists and two goals? That’s outrageous. He’s the reason Leicester are where they are.”
Owen shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “But at the end of the day, Costa has two more goals, and that’s why he won despite Tristan being such a better player, in my opinion.”
At the far end of the panel, Scholes, who had been listening quietly with his usual deadpan expression, finally spoke up: I see both sides, but let’s be real—these awards always favor goal scorers. Costa was never not winning this.”
McManaman sighed, rubbing his temple. “That’s exactly my point, Scholesy! These awards always go to the strikers, even when a midfielder is clearly just as—if not more—impactful.”
Jake Humphrey smirked, sensing the tension. “So, Macca, are you saying Tristan was robbed?”
McManaman leaned forward. “Absolutely! If Tristan was playing for a big club, he wins this. No doubt in my mind.”
Owen chuckled, shaking his head. “You do have a point there, which is why he should go to a club like Liverpool.”
Over in ESPN FC’s studio, the atmosphere was no different.
Host Dan Thomas glanced at the panel of pundits—Craig Burley, Shaka Hislop, and Gab Marcotti—and smirked. “Alright, gentlemen. Diego Costa wins Player of the Month. Fair decision?”
Craig Burley let out a loud sigh, already shaking his head. “No. I’ve got no issue with Costa winning—it’s not like he didn’t deserve it—but come on, Tristan Hale was robbed. Robbed in daylight, I’m telling you!”
Shaka Hislop, sitting next to him, nodded in agreement. “It’s always the same story, Craig. If you play for a big club, you get more recognition.”
Burley pointed at Hislop. “Exactly! You swap their clubs—Tristan at Chelsea, Costa at Leicester—and guess who wins the award? Tristan. It’s not even close.”
Gab Marcotti, arms folded, spoke up in his measured tone. “I’ll say this—Costa deserves it, but Tristan is the better player, not a finisher like Costa. Two goals and four assists is a ridiculous number in three games.”
Dan Thomas leaned back in his chair, grinning. “So what you’re saying is... the Premier League is biased toward the big clubs?”
Burley scoffed. “Oh, absolutely! Always has been, always will be.”
The debate raged on, splitting opinions across England.
Football Twitter, as expected, exploded with different opinions.
@BaldRhaegar: Costa = 4 goals in 3 games. All games win; easy decision. Why is this even a debate?
@Nurserik: Tristan was robbed. If he played for United, he wins it. If he played for Chelsea, he wins it. But he’s at Leicester, so of course, they ignore him. Give him what he deserves; he’s England’s golden boy.
@Oscar: No players have more goal contributions than Tristan so far this season; I’m just saying name a player who has been better than him in the last 3 games; hell, include international games if you want to as well.
@joshua stadt: Four assists and two goals in three games? That’s not luck, that’s class. Tristan deserved this over Costa.
@Ladarrius Thomas: Tristan Hale watching Costa get the award like: [insert blank Mourinho death stare]
@Ro: At least Tristan made Team of the Month. Next time, no debate. He’s winning it.
Despite missing out on the award, Tristan’s name was everywhere. His performances weren’t being ignored—he was being talked about in the same breath as the league’s biggest stars.
…….
End of chapter
Now do I think Tristan deserves to win, probably, but this entire chapter was just me writing wanting to get rid of some stress due to some unexpected situation, and I like writing some drama; it makes me happy, which I need right now. So yeah, if you have any questions or anything else, do let me know, and peace.
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