The morning fog still clung to the training ground as Uroš Spajić jogged onto the pitch, gloves tucked into his sleeves and his breath visible in the cool air. His teammates were laughing over something near the goalpost, but Uroš was already scanning the field like it was match day—every blade of grass, every subtle dip in the turf.

“Spajić,” the assistant coach called, tossing him a ball. “New system today. You’re the spine. Keep it organized.”

He nodded, catching the ball with a soft touch and passing it back effortlessly. “No shouting needed,” he said under his breath, “just position and timing.”

As training began, Uroš moved like a shadow—silent, precise, unshakable. He wasn’t the loudest voice in the squad. But when a striker broke free and Uroš stepped in with a perfect tackle, the message was clear:

This defense had a heartbeat—and it beat with Spajić’s calm rhythm.