Chapter 30: The Grind
Saturday, 31st August 2002. Stadio Alberto Braglia, Modena.
The bus ride from Milan to Modena took just over two hours. Leo sat near the back, earbuds in, staring at the flat Emilia-Romagna countryside. The pre-season friendlies had gone well—goals against Real Madrid and Bayern, assists against Juventus—but this was different. This was real. Serie A. A league that had chewed up and spat out more wonderkids than he could count.
Ancelotti had named his first competitive starting eleven. The system populated it as Leo pulled on his boots in the cramped away dressing room.
AC Milan (4-3-1-2):
Dida (GK) - 87
Dario Šimić (RB) - 82
Alessandro Nesta (CB) - 93
Paolo Maldini (CB) - 94
Kakha Kaladze (LB) - 85
Gennaro Gattuso (CM) - 88
Andrea Pirlo (CM) - 91
Clarence Seedorf (CM) - 90
Leo Carter (AM) - 99
Filippo Inzaghi (ST) - 88
Andriy Shevchenko (ST) - 94
The trequartista. The free role Ancelotti had promised. Behind two of the deadliest strikers in Europe, with Pirlo feeding him from deep, Seedorf driving forward, and Gattuso providing the bite. On paper, it was terrifying.
Modena (3-5-2):
Marco Ballotta (GK) - 78
Luca Ungari (CB) - 72
Roberto Cevoli (CB) - 74
Jacopo Balestri (CB) - 71
Stefano Sacchetti (RM) - 75
Marco Ballotta (CM) - 73
Massimo Scoponi (CM) - 72
Mauro Mayer (CM) - 70
Simone Pavan (LM) - 74
Giuseppe Sculli (ST) - 79
Fabio Vignaroli (ST) - 76
Newly promoted. Fighting for survival. Exactly the kind of team that would sit deep, kick everything that moved, and try to frustrate.
Ancelotti stood at the front of the dressing room, his raised eyebrow giving him a perpetually curious expression. He spoke in Italian, then switched to English for Leo's benefit.
"They will defend with ten men. They will try to make the pitch small. Be patient. Move the ball quickly. The gaps will come." He looked at Leo. "You will find them."
Leo nodded. The Clutch Gene pulsed, but this wasn't a final. This was just the first step.
---
The Stadio Alberto Braglia was a modest ground, half the size of St Mary's, but the atmosphere was intense. The Modena fans packed the stands, a wall of yellow and blue, singing and waving flags. The away section was a small pocket of red and black, but their voices carried.
The announcer's voice echoed across the stadium, rapid-fire Italian that Leo only half understood.
"Benvenuti allo Stadio Alberto Braglia! Modena contro Milan!"
The whistle blew.
Modena sat deep from the first second. Five across the midfield, three at the back, two strikers who dropped to help defend. A wall of yellow shirts between Leo and the goal.
He touched the ball early. A pass from Pirlo, crisp and accurate. Leo turned, and immediately two Modena midfielders converged. He laid it off to Seedorf and moved. Touch, pass, move. The rhythm Ancelotti had drilled into them.
In the seventh minute, Leo found his first pocket of space. Pirlo collected the ball deep, looked up, and saw Leo drifting between the lines. The pass was a laser, curling around the first defender and landing at Leo's feet.
[Magic Touch (Level 5) Activated. Ball Control Maximised.]
He killed it instantly. A Modena midfielder lunged. Leo dropped a shoulder, left him grasping at air, and drove toward the box. The defence backed off, terrified of his pace.
[Vision (Level 4) Activated. Passing Lane Identified.]
He slipped a through ball to Inzaghi. The striker was offside. Flag up.
The Modena fans cheered ironically. "Fuorigioco! Fuorigioco!"
Leo jogged back, frustration prickling. Inzaghi raised a hand in apology. "Next time."
---
The pattern continued. Milan dominated possession, Modena defended with eleven men. Pirlo sprayed passes. Seedorf drove forward. Gattuso won every second ball. But the final pass, the final shot, was always blocked or saved or whistled offside.
In the twenty-second minute, Modena had their first chance. A long clearance, a flick-on from Sculli, and Vignaroli was running at Nesta. The Italian defender read it perfectly, stepped in, and took the ball cleanly. The Modena fans appealed for a foul. The referee waved play on.
"Grande Nesta!" the Milan fans sang.
Leo tracked back, helping Kaladze deal with Sacchetti's overlapping runs. The system fed him information.
[Stefano Sacchetti: Crossing Threat - Moderate. Show him inside.]
He did. Sacchetti tried to go outside, Leo blocked the path, and the ball ran out for a goal kick.
[Defensive Action: Block. Match Rating: 6.8.]
In the twenty-eighth minute, Milan broke through.
Pirlo collected the ball forty yards from goal. He looked up, saw Leo making a run between the centre-backs, and played a pass that shouldn't have been possible—a curling, dipping ball that dropped perfectly into Leo's stride.
[Reading the Game (Level 4) Activated. Run Timing Optimised.]
[Acceleration (Level 4) Activated.]
Leo was through. One-on-one with Ballotta. The goalkeeper came out, spreading himself. Leo didn't panic.
[Clinical Finisher (Level 5) Activated.]
He opened his body and passed the ball into the far corner. Side-footed, low, precise. Ballotta got a hand to it, but the ball had too much power. It nestled in the back of the net.
The away end erupted.
"Carter! Carter! Il fenomeno!"
Leo ran toward the corner flag, sliding on his knees. His teammates mobbed him. Shevchenko grabbed his shoulders. "First of many, my friend. First of many."
[Goal Scored. Match Rating: 6.8 -> 8.1.]
Modena 0, Milan 1.
---
The goal settled Milan. They passed the ball with confidence, moving Modena around the pitch. In the thirty-ninth minute, Leo almost scored again. A one-two with Shevchenko on the edge of the box, a curled shot toward the far corner. Ballotta tipped it onto the post.
The away end groaned. "Così vicino!"
Half-time came. Modena 0, Milan 1.
---
The second half was more of the same. Milan controlled, Modena defended. In the sixty-third minute, Milan doubled their lead. Leo drifted wide, collected a pass from Kaladze, and whipped a cross toward the back post. Shevchenko rose above Cevoli and thundered a header past Ballotta.
[Assist Registered. Match Rating: 8.1 -> 8.6.]
Modena 0, Milan 2.
The game was effectively over. Ancelotti made changes, resting Pirlo and Inzaghi. Leo stayed on, dictating the tempo, creating chances.
In the eighty-first minute, he scored his second. A loose ball on the edge of the box, a swing of his right foot, and a low drive that skidded past Ballotta.
[Goal Scored. Match Rating: 8.6 -> 9.2.]
Modena 0, Milan 3.
The final whistle blew. A comfortable win. A perfect start.
[Match Complete. Modena 0 - 3 AC Milan.]
[Serie A: 3 Points.]
[Goals: Carter (2). Assists: Carter (1). Match Rating: 9.3 (Man of the Match).]
[Charm Points Earned: 300. Total: 9,500.]
---
Saturday, 7th September 2002. San Siro, Milan.
The San Siro was everything Leo had imagined. Eighty thousand seats, towering stands, the Curva Sud a seething mass of red and black. The noise was different from England—not just loud, but organised. Chants that lasted for minutes. Flags that waved in perfect synchronisation. A living, breathing entity.
Opponents: Perugia. A mid-table side, physical and organised, but beatable.
Ancelotti named an unchanged lineup. The system populated the Perugia team.
Perugia (3-5-2):
Zeljko Kalac (GK) - 82
Souleymane Diamoutene (CB) - 75
Marco Di Loreto (CB) - 78
Rahman Rezaei (CB) - 76
Zé Maria (RM) - 81
Fabio Gatti (CM) - 74
Giovanni Tedesco (CM) - 79
Massimiliano Fusani (CM) - 73
Fabio Grosso (LM) - 80
Fabrizio Miccoli (ST) - 85
Andrea Caracciolo (ST) - 78
Miccoli. Eighty-five. The little striker was Perugia's danger man—quick, tricky, and fearless.
The match started as expected. Milan dominated possession, Perugia sat deep. Leo found space between the lines, threading passes, creating chances. In the fourteenth minute, he played a one-two with Seedorf and fired a low shot that Kalac saved.
The Curva Sud sang his name. "Leo Carter! Leo Carter! Il nostro fenomeno!"
In the twenty-sixth minute, Milan scored. A corner from Pirlo, whipped toward the near post. Maldini rose and flicked a header toward the far corner. Leo, anticipating the flick, was there to tap it home from two yards.
[Goal Scored. Match Rating: 7.4 -> 8.2.]
Milan 1, Perugia 0.
The San Siro erupted. Leo ran to the Curva Sud, arms outstretched, and the noise washed over him. This was home now.
The second half was a grind. Perugia pushed for an equaliser. Miccoli hit the post with a curling free-kick. Dida made a stunning save from Caracciolo. Milan defended resolutely.
In the seventy-second minute, Milan sealed it. A counter-attack, Leo carrying the ball from halfway. He drew three defenders, then slipped a pass to Shevchenko. The Ukrainian didn't miss.
Milan 2, Perugia 0.
[Assist Registered. Match Rating: 8.2 -> 8.8.]
The final whistle blew. Another win. Another clean sheet.
[Match Complete. AC Milan 2 - 0 Perugia.]
[Goals: Carter (1). Assists: Carter (1). Match Rating: 8.9 (Man of the Match).]
[Charm Points Earned: 300. Total: 9,800.]
---
Champions League. Wednesday, 18th September 2002. San Siro.
The Champions League anthem sent shivers down Leo's spine. He'd watched this competition on television as a kid, dreaming of nights like this. Now he was living it.
Opponents: Lens. The French side were no pushovers—physical, direct, dangerous. Ancelotti named the same eleven. The system populated the Lens lineup.
Lens (4-4-2):
Guillaume Warmuz (GK) - 84
Eric Sikora (RB) - 78
Rigobert Song (CB) - 85
Valérien Ismaël (CB) - 83
Cyril Rool (LB) - 77
Seydou Keita (RM) - 84
Jocelyn Blanchard (CM) - 81
Stéphane Pédron (CM) - 79
Charles-Édouard Coridon (LM) - 80
Daniel Moreira (ST) - 85
John Utaka (ST) - 84
The match was a war. Lens pressed high, kicked hard, and made life difficult. Leo was fouled five times in the first half alone. Song, the Cameroonian defender, seemed to make it his personal mission to leave a mark.
In the thirty-third minute, Milan broke through. A free-kick from Pirlo on the edge of the box. Leo stood over it, the system highlighting the gap in the wall.
[Long Shots (Level 5) Activated.]
[Curled Finish (Level 5) Activated.]
He struck it. The ball curled over the wall, dipped viciously, and nestled in the top corner. Warmuz didn't move.
The San Siro exploded.
"Che gol! Che gol! Leo Carter è nostro!"
[Goal Scored. Match Rating: 7.8 -> 8.9.]
Milan 1, Lens 0.
Lens equalised in the fifty-eighth minute. A defensive lapse—Šimić lost his man, Utaka ghosted in at the back post, and tapped home. The San Siro fell silent.
Milan 1, Lens 1.
The game was on a knife edge. Both teams pushed for a winner. In the seventy-fourth minute, Milan won a corner. Pirlo whipped it in. Leo rose, Power Header activated, and thundered it past Warmuz.
The San Siro erupted again.
[Goal Scored. Match Rating: 8.9 -> 9.4.]
Milan 2, Lens 1.
The final whistle blew. A hard-fought win. Three points in the Champions League.
[Match Complete. AC Milan 2 - 1 Lens.]
[UEFA Champions League: 3 Points.]
[Goals: Carter (2). Match Rating: 9.5 (Man of the Match).]
[Charm Points Earned: 400. Total: 10,200.]
[Skill Tokens Earned: 3. Total Available: 22.]
---
Serie A. Saturday, 21st September 2002. San Siro.
Empoli. A newly promoted side. Should be routine.
The match started well. Milan dominated possession, Leo pulling strings from the trequartista role. In the nineteenth minute, he scored a curling effort from the edge of the box. The San Siro sang his name.
Milan 1, Empoli 0.
Then, in the thirty-first minute, everything changed.
Leo received a pass from Pirlo on the halfway line. He turned, ready to drive at the Empoli defence. A midfielder named Flavio Giampieretti lunged in—not malicious, just late. His studs caught Leo's ankle, twisting it awkwardly.
Leo went down. Hard.
The pain was immediate. Sharp. Burning. He tried to get up, but his ankle wouldn't hold his weight. He collapsed back to the turf.
The San Siro fell silent.
[Injury Detected. Severity: Moderate to Severe. Ankle Ligament Damage.]
[Injury Resistance (Level 3) Activated. Recovery Time Reduced.]
The medical team rushed on. Ancelotti was on the touchline, his face pale. Maldini knelt beside Leo. "Stay still. Don't move."
Leo lay there, staring at the sky, his ankle throbbing. The system projected an estimated recovery time.
[Estimated Recovery: 6-8 Weeks. Injury Resistance Reducing to 4-6 Weeks.]
Four to six weeks. A month and a half. The Scudetto race, the Champions League group stage—all of it, without him.
The stretcher came. Leo was carried off, the San Siro applauding, but the applause was tinged with fear. Their talisman, their thirty-million-euro wonderkid, was broken.
In the tunnel, Ancelotti caught up with the stretcher. He put a hand on Leo's shoulder. "We will wait for you. Come back strong."
Leo nodded, unable to speak.
He watched the rest of the match on a monitor in the medical room, his ankle packed in ice. Milan won 3-0. Shevchenko scored twice. Seedorf added a third. But Leo barely registered it.
[Match Complete. AC Milan 3 - 0 Empoli.]
[Injury: Ankle Ligament. Estimated Return: Late October / Early November.]