Football singularity

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[Date: 19/02/2020 | Time: 12:27 | Location: Bayer 04 Leverkusen HQ Medical Wing]

A sleek black top-of-the-line BMW X1 with rental plates pulled into the restricted parking area reserved for players and staff. A gust of crisp February air swept in as the car doors opened, Lisa stepping out first in her beige knee-high boots. She moved swiftly to the passenger side, already reaching to help her son out before he even asked.

"I've got it," Rakim muttered, managing to balance himself with his crutches with a bit of effort. She grabbed her purse and locked the car before falling into step beside him, not at all minding the slower pace.

The sliding glass doors parted with a quiet hiss, and a wave of sterile, climate-controlled air swept over them as Rakim and Lisa entered. The scent of antiseptic and fresh upholstery lingered faintly in the corridor, clean and clinical.

"Welcome back, Herr Rex," greeted the receptionist, a young man in a red polo embroidered with the club crest. "You're just in time. Doctor Muller and the team are expecting you. Room seven."

"Thank you, Michael," Rakim responded, as he gave a small nod to the 21-year-old, gripping his crutches tightly as they moved past. Surprised that the boy remembered his name despite their last meeting being his arrival at the club when he did his medicals, Michael dumbly nodded.

The medical wing at Leverkusen was state-of-the-art despite being rather small, looking more like a fancy rehab centre. Light wood flooring, frosted glass doors, and subtle LED panels that matched the club's colours aesthetically, without being too in your face. "You can really tell how much they have invested in the team's foundation over the past decade."

Nodding at his mother's comment, Rakim couldn't help but agree as he considered how successful the club had become in the latter part of the 2010s. "Haha, the board will be happy to know I'm not wasting their money," Simon Rolfes, Leverkusen's Current Managing Director, voice resounded from a couple of steps away, prompting them to notice his approach.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle," he said as he spotted their shocked expression, but quickly brushed it off and stretched out his hand for a handshake. "How are you feeling after that tackle? I got that report, but it's not the same as hearing from the horse's mouth, as they say."

"I guess I'm the horse then, huh?" Rakim retorted with a questioning gaze that seemed to scream, 'Is this N1$$a serious?'.

"Well, if the horseshoe fits," Simon said with a pleased expression, seemingly trying his best to hold back a full-blown laughing fit.

"Sigh, you must annoy your kids a lot," Rakim retorted, exasperation audible in his tone.

"Yes, how did you know?"

-_-

"(Ahem) I guess my injury could've been worse," he replied, tone even. "Just shi (cough) annoying that it happened now, just as I was getting into full swing for the second half of the season."

Lisa chuckled softly, her smile behind him appearing amiable, but it sent a shiver up both men's spines. "Let's," Rolfes said, offering a polite smile, trying to break the awkward atmosphere. "I won't keep you. Just wanted to check in personally since I wasn't in attendance yesterday. Keep your chin up and don't hesitate to notify the club if you need anything during your recovery."

Rakim grinned faintly. "Appreciate it, thank you."

"Yes, thank you for the attention and care you've given my son, we really do appreciate the extra mile. Sure, made it easier letting him live here full time with minimal supervision." Lisa said from the said shaking hands with Simon one more time in appreciation.

"No need for that, it's our philosophy to treat everyone like family from top to bottom," he quickly responded before taking his leave, much to the relief of his assistant, who had been looking at his watch quite a few times during their short conversation.

~~~

"It looks like yesterday's assessment was spot on. We've confirmed the Grade: 2 sprains around the ankle; however, we did find a slight tear on one of the inner ligaments that we missed." Dr Muller stated as he walked over to Rakim, who was sitting at the examination table, as he browsed through his phone.

He had seemingly given up on trying to keep up with his mother, who hadn't stopped asking an avalanche of questions to the doctors and neurologist regarding his recovery. Since she had done her degree in sports science and nutritional health and has worked in the industry for years, she understood all the jargon. Rakim figured that he would follow her plan regardless, given that she had been his first coach, laying the foundation for his athletic career.

"Given the tear, his recovery time should be adjusted, right?" Lisa instantly asked, immediately picking up on the important facts.

"Yes, we've tentatively estimated his return to training around 2 weeks, but just to be safe, we have a 3-week plan before we reevaluate." He explained, as he pulled up the recovery chart, his team had prepared on his laptop for Lisa to look at. "This is the plan we have prepared to make sure Rakim comes back faster and stronger."

"Hmm, about his recovery, would it be possible for him to undergo it at home in Orlando? I've got all of these facilities at my gym's headquarters, and I will personally oversee his recovery with daily updates and regular checkups from my friends at the Miami Dolphins medical centre." Lis asked the man after ten minutes of reading through the plan and discussing some points with the good doctor.

Dr. Muller didn't answer right away. He folded his arms and cast a thoughtful glance toward Assistant Doctor Simon, who was entering data into the medical system at the adjacent station. "That's not a bad proposition," he finally said, tone measured. "And considering your background in the field and the facilities you have access to… It's not outside the realm of possibility."

Simon glanced up, brows slightly raised. "We'd have to ensure continuity of care and remote reporting. He'd need to log daily vitals, therapy feedback, and video check-ins every 48 hours minimum."

"I can organise that," Lisa replied promptly. "We've got the infrastructure for remote athlete monitoring from the different private clients we've worked with for recovery programs and targeted improvement. Plus, last year we just expanded to offering an in-house spa with all the needed facilities."

Dr. Muller nodded slowly, clearly weighing institutional protocol against practical efficiency. "Normally, we'd keep a player under club supervision, especially post-UCL injury. But with your qualifications and his unique living situation, this option may be for the best." He trailed off and turned to Simon again. "Let's bring in Dr. Clara and Head Rehab. They'll want to review the load management curve."

"Already paged," Simon said without looking up, typing briskly.

Within moments, the door opened and in walked two figures—Dr. Clara, a composed woman in her fifties with an iPad already open, and a younger man with a tightly clipped beard and a muscular build—Head of Rehabilitation, Coach Darnell Wiese.

"Mrs. Rex," Dr. Clara greeted warmly. "I'm Clara, head Nutritionist around here. I'm a big fan of your work on Rakim. He is at the top of the 1 percentile on all the tests we have conducted, and his discipline in following a dietary plan is impeccable. He tells me I have you to thank for this."

"Haha, you flatter me too much. Following a diet has never been a problem for Rakim; it's getting him to stop and relax that is the problem." Lisa responded as she shook both doctors' hands. "It doesn't help that he idolises Cristiano and Kobe Bryant when it comes to training philosophy."

"Hahah, that's usually the type of athlete I love to work with, but keep in mind that in your case, slow and steady is the game plan." Coach Darnell Wiese stated, looking directly at Rakim towards the end of his words. "I know you want to get back to playing form as quickly as possible, but I need you to trust the process and those around you, and we will get you there as fast as possible."

"No problem, coach, just give me my marching orders," He responded with a mock two-finger salute.

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To Be Continued...