Five weeks have elapsed since Arief embarked on his significant journey in Russia as a member of the RPL team, and during this time, he has begun to establish a new rhythm in his life that, for the most part, is starting to feel stable and secure. However, lurking beneath this newfound stability is a fragile undercurrent of uncertainty, constantly reminding him of the complexities of his current situation. The sense of stability is largely derived from the impressive achievements of Krasnodar, which has firmly positioned itself at the top of the league standings, showcasing an attractive upward trend that makes every match exhilarating. Nevertheless, this feeling of security is intermittently punctuated by notifications from Jakarta, each carrying the potential for major changes that could drastically alter his life at any moment. On one hand, he finds himself serving as the main assistant coach for a prestigious Russian football team while simultaneously taking on the prestigious role of Asia Director for Unity Academy, an organization passionately devoted to nurturing young football talent and guiding them toward future successes in the sport. On the other hand, the fervent hopes of the Indonesian public continually resonate in his ears, with many envisioning him as the potential "savior" of their national team, despite his explicit statements expressing his reluctance to take the helm of the Indonesian national team.
That serene winter morning, the sun made a slow ascent, gradually illuminating the high roof of Krasnodar Stadium and ushering in a warmth that was eagerly awaited by all. The training field was blanketed with a delicate layer of ice that glittered under the sun's rays, creating a tranquil and calming ambiance, despite the biting cold. Positioned at the center line, Arief stood with his hands tucked securely into the pockets of his thick jacket, focusing intently on the players enduring the bitter temperatures that plunged below freezing at minus four degrees.
"Adi, be cautious not to tackle too aggressively in this slippery area!" Arief called out with keen attention. "The condition of this field is vastly different from what you're used to. A single misstep could cause you to lose your balance and create a significant gap in our defense."
In response, Adi lifted his hand to acknowledge his oversight. "Understood, Coach! Back home in Indonesia, we are accustomed to muddy pitches, but here it's a different story entirely; the frozen ground makes the adaptation process twice as challenging."
Dika, who had made strides in acclimating to the harsh weather of the new season, chimed in with an infectious laugh, "Around here, if you fall, healing takes a lot longer, Di, so do take extra caution."
Arief offered a faint smile before enthusiastically blowing his whistle. "Alright, let's switch up the positions! Remember, only two touches allowed now. Keep in mind that we are gearing up to face Dynamo this week—a robust team renowned for their intense pressing game, so if panic sets in, it could have dire consequences for us."
The training session unfolded seamlessly and was structured with precision. The unique playing style he had cultivated through his extensive experience at Unity Academy, complemented by the insights gained from the UEFA A training module—which emphasized structured pressing, swift transitions, and inventive gameplay from the wingers—began to mesh beautifully with the demanding culture of the RPL. Each player's movement during training resembled pieces of a well-crafted puzzle that was gradually coalescing into the comprehensive vision Arief had envisioned since his very first steps on Russian soil.
As the main training session drew to a close, Karpin summoned Arief to the sidelines with an enthusiastic motion, his face reflecting a mix of seriousness and satisfaction as he reviewed the team's commendable accomplishments.
"Arief," Karpin began, his deep voice emanating visible clouds of breath in the frosty air, "Five weeks have passed. We've secured three victories, and one draw, along with valuable friendly encounters against Zenit and Spartak, which proved quite challenging. Are you aware of what everyone is discussing here?"
"If they're not talking about the intricate tactics you've crafted, then it's likely about my homeland," Arief replied, attempting to lighten the atmosphere with a touch of humor.
Karpin's expression turned prideful as he responded, "There's a buzz among the players saying: 'The coach from Indonesia, who opted to decline the national team's offer in favor of staying in Russia, has successfully guided us to glorious victories.' This commitment is viewed as a remarkable sign of loyalty, demonstrating to our players that you are earnestly dedicated to this role."
Arief's gaze shifted to the training field, now gradually emptying as the session concluded. "I'm simply doing what feels correct for the future trajectory of football. If I were to abandon Krasnodar and Unity Academy in the midst of our journey to take over the national team, my efforts may come to be seen merely as an exercise in ego rather than a professional responsibility that deserves to be respected and upheld."
With a slow nod colored by understanding, Karpin replied, "Very good. Following our match against Dynamo, we'll be up against three consecutive tough challengers that will truly test our mettle: Zenit, CSKA, and the fierce competition from Rubin. If you believe the pressure from the Indonesian media is significant, just wait until you experience the intensity of the Russian media should we lose three matches in succession."
"That's why I require a thoroughly solid and disciplined training regimen, Coach," Arief responded with unwavering determination. "This week, we will prioritize pressing; next week, we will shift our focus to compact-low block transitions to elevate the difficulty for our players."
Karpin clasped Arief encouragingly on the shoulder. "Press on with confidence. And concerning the news from Indonesia—it's prudent for you to address the public directly; do not allow rumors to swirl uncontrollably without proper management."
Arief recognized the wisdom in Karpin's advice. In circumstances like this, silence could morph into a destructive weapon that would gradually erode him from the inside out.
***
That afternoon, within the cozy confines of an expatriate villa cluster, Arief's living room had transformed into a makeshift serious meeting space. The table was adorned with steaming cups of coffee, alongside a laptop presenting an official email from PSSI; meanwhile, his mobile phone buzzed incessantly, displaying a torrent of news notifications from Indonesian media: "Arief Chooses Russia," "Garuda Awaits Arief's Decision," and "National Team Legend Critiques Arief's Choice, Leaving Many Surprised."
Natalia reclined on the sofa, cradling a mug of warming hot chocolate. Sarah occupied a corner of the room, her vlog camera now resting, as she attentively listened to the unfolding conversation. Sari perched herself by the window, gazing out at the gentle flurry of thin snow cascading gracefully from the sky.
"Honey," Sari began gently, her voice brimming with concern, "PSSI has sent another email. They expressed their respect for your choice to focus on Russia and Unity, yet there lingered a subtle undertone of disappointment within the message they forwarded."
Arief nodded thoughtfully, maintaining his gaze on the laptop screen for a moment longer. "I've read it. They've stated, 'We hope that one day you will consider returning when the time is right.' It's a somewhat vague statement, yet not entirely dismissive—it keeps the door ajar for future contemplation."
Natalia leaned in closer, intrigued. "You were steadfast during your conversation with Mr. Erick. However, the news outlets have presented only snippets of your statements, which may not fully satisfy the public's desire for clarity. They need to receive your insights in terms they can easily grasp."
"Are you suggesting I should deliver an official address?" Sarah inquired. "Not simply a formal press conference, but rather something personal and heartfelt for the Indonesian populace?"
Arief took a moment to ponder deeply, weighing the implications of such an action. "Perhaps that is indeed necessary. Not as a means to justify my actions, but to help them understand that I am not fleeing from my responsibilities to the national team. I am committed to constructing a stronger and more sustainable future for our football."
Liam and Sofia rushed into the living room, their jackets dusted with snow, brimming with excitement. "Daddy, was practice enjoyable?" Liam queried ardently.
"It was delightful, albeit very cold," Arief replied, lovingly pulling Liam onto his lap. "Did you spot Daddy on TV again?"
"My friends at school say Daddy frequently appears in Indonesian news," Sofia chimed in with enthusiasm. "Some claim Daddy is unfavorable because he doesn't wish to coach the national team. Is that true, Daddy?"
Her question struck deeper than the coldest tones of disparagement often hurled at him on social media platforms.
Arief inhaled deeply, sorting through his myriad thoughts. "Daddy isn't unwilling; he just can't yet. My responsibilities here are not complete. If Daddy were to leave his position prematurely, then I wouldn't be setting a good example—for you, for the players here, and for everyone who happens to observe our journey."
Natalia affectionately caressed Sofia's hair. "Sometimes, making the right choice does not equate to doing what everyone would prefer or comprehend."
Sarah regarded Arief with understanding. "Then let's craft a clear and definitive statement. Not merely to sway those who harbor resentment against us, but to resonate with those willing to comprehend and connect on a deeper level."
Finally, Arief nodded with a newfound sense of confidence. "Alright. We will record a video tonight. One take, clear and straightforward, without extraneous drama."
***
That evening, within the confines of his simple yet comfortable office, Arief sat calmly positioned before the camera. Behind him was a thoughtful display of two scarves intentionally draped side by side: one emblazoned with the logo of FC Krasnodar, and the other vibrant red and white, emblazoned with the word "Indonesia."
"Assalamualaikum warahmatullahi wabarakatuh," he commenced, his voice steady and resolute. "To all my brothers and sisters in Indonesia, to our devoted football fans, our diligent coaches, and to the aspiring youth dreaming of greatness on the pitch…"
He articulated his thoughts deliberately, flowing through the narrative of his extensive career journey that traced back to Nailsworth in Indonesia, which would always hold a special place in his heart, leading him toward the new challenges in Russia; detailing the professional contract he had recently embarked upon with Krasnodar, which, despite its infancy, already promised a more promising horizon; and expounding upon the developments within Unity Academy, a burgeoning pathway for Indonesian players and coaches aspiring to shine on the European football stage; and mentioning the Letter of Intent (LOI) with PSSI for 2027, which points towards an even brighter future ahead.
"Many have asked, 'Why now? Why not assume command of the national team when beckoned?'" Arief continued in a relatable and easily digestible manner. "The answer is straightforward: professionalism and responsibility. If I were to abandon Krasnodar and Unity Academy at this juncture, personal ambitions that may not be entirely clear, I would be endorsing the idea that promises can be broken at the drop of a hat simply for the allure of a new opportunity. Regrettably, this is not the principle I wish to champion when the time comes for me to lead Garuda."
Pausing for effect, he shifted his gaze, locking onto the camera lens with fierce determination.
"I harbor a profound love for Indonesia. My heart beats for Indonesian football. However, mature love transcends mere presence when duty calls—it necessitates being there when one is truly ready to give their absolute best, not half-heartedly or immaturely."
"For the present moment, my focus resides on the work at hand: steering Krasnodar towards a successful run in the RPL, ensuring that Unity Academy genuinely serves as a vital conduit for Indonesian talent into Europe, and preparing myself diligently so that when 2027 finally arrives and PSSI still wishes for my guidance, I will step in not as a fleeting idea but as a coach who has emerged with considerable experience from the highest echelons of global football."
"I understand that some may still be upset, and I acknowledge their sentiments unreservedly. Should anyone feel disappointed, I cannot compel them to alter those emotions. Yet I kindly ask for your respect regarding this decision, which I hold in high regard, just as I respect your undying love for Garuda, a love that will always resonate within our hearts."
The video concluded in silence, devoid of music or dramatic frills, leaving only the sound of Arief's exhaled breath, a sigh of relief infused with tranquility.
Soon after, Sarah efficiently turned off the camera. "Flawless, darling. Honest, concise, and devoid of extravagance."
Sari wiped away a tear at the corner of her eye with a handkerchief. "Darling, that's the most quintessentially Indonesian thing you've articulated since taking the managerial position here."
Natalia embraced Arief from the side with heartfelt affection. "Now, let the world respond. You've poured your heart out."
***
The following day, his video spread like wildfire across social media, igniting a spectrum of responses across Indonesia. While some continued to offer harsh critiques, a substantial number of viewers began to grasp his perspective.
Comments gradually began to shift toward more constructive and supportive sentiments:
"Though I still harbor disappointment regarding Arief's decision, his reasoning resonates."
"If he can create a genuine path to Europe for our players, that's equally a form of love for our nation."
"We eagerly anticipate 2027 with renewed hope, Coach. Please remember your pledge to us."
Meanwhile, in Russia, the media expressed heightened interest in Arief's statement. "Indonesian coach in Russia: Prioritizing professionalism over popularity is essential."
At the Krasnodar headquarters, players enthusiastically shared the video with one another on their mobile devices.
"Coach," Córdoba remarked, "you mentioned 'mature love'—in football, it's a rarity to hear someone articulate such depth."
Adi added, "Coach, I take immense pride in being part of this endeavor that inspires so many. Should we one day return to Indonesia, we will bring forth something profoundly different and meaningful."
Arief beamed with pride, "That has been our objective all along—to cultivate a shared future."
***
In the afternoon, just before the sixth match of the season, Arief and Karpin reclined on an empty stadium bench, surrounded by the soft snowfall cascading steadily, akin to cotton flakes drifting silently yet elegantly.
"So, you've now spoken candidly to the world," noted Karpin with satisfaction.
"Indeed," replied Arief, a sense of relief washing over him. "If there remain those who bear animosity or disagreement, that is a challenge for them to reconcile with their own sentiments. My primary focus is what unfolds during the 90 minutes of the match lying ahead of us."
Karpin exhaled deeply, his attention fixed on the vibrant green field. "Do you realize why I am relieved you turned down the national team's offer?"
"Why's that, Coach?" Arief asked with curiosity.
"Because if you can procure the strength to forego such a significant opportunity to remain here, I have faith that you won't shy away when faced with this season's real challenges and complexities."
Arief's gaze ascended toward the sky, glinting with snowflakes, a few of which gently settled on his face.
"Difficult seasons will undoubtedly ebb and flow," he stated with conviction. "The central question remains: when challenges arise, will our foundation be steadfast enough to confront them head-on?"
Karpin wore a thin smile, filled with pride. "The forthcoming match will serve as an answer for all of us."
In the distance, the stadium lights began to illuminate one by one, heralding the approach of a new chapter poised to unfold in anticipation of the match. And Arief was acutely aware that, from this point onward, every decision he made in Russia would forever be observed by Indonesia as a critical fragment of a lengthy journey, leading him to the eventual day when he would no longer have the excuse to utter the words "not ready."
When that moment finally arrived, he harbored hopes that his footing would stand unshakeable against all odds.