The young wing-back swallowed but said nothing.
Amorim pointed toward the pitch beyond the walls.
"I told you. Get close to him. Body. Use your body. Use your legs. Use your brain. Don't let him turn. Don't let him run at you. Don't wait for him to decide what he wants to do. You are letting him choose everything. Every time he receives, you wait. Every time he moves, you react late. This cannot happen."
Dorgu dropped his gaze again, staring at the floor between his boots.
Amorim let the silence sit for a second before forcing himself to calm down. He looked away, exhaled, then turned toward the tactical board. Carlos Fernandes stepped beside him and handed over the marker.
