The rain fell in steady sheets over the training ground, but Răzvan Marin didn’t notice. His focus was laser-sharp, every pass clean, every movement deliberate. Around him, younger players glanced his way, mimicking his intensity.

Coach Gheorghe called out from the sidelines, “You’ve been reading the game like a book, Marin. What’s your secret?”

Răzvan wiped the sweat from his brow, gave a half-smile. “You just have to listen. The ball tells you where it wants to go.”

Later that evening, as the match wore on and the pressure mounted, Marin stepped into space, intercepted a pass, and with a quick turn, launched a perfectly weighted through-ball.

In the blink of an eye, it became an assist. He didn’t celebrate—he just nodded.

Another silent chapter, written in midfield.