#goldalpha

“Match day isn’t a schedule. It’s a state of mind.”

Wells stood in front of the mirror in full gold kit, jersey clinging, shorts tight, cleats gleaming, socks sharp. Perched on his face: black athletic sunglasses with golden spirals glowing over each eye. One hand on his hip. The other dragging slow across his abs.

“You don’t just play golden, bro. You think golden. You breathe it.”

The spirals caught the light. His reflection stared back… and obeyed.

“I don’t stretch. I install. I don’t warm up. I boot up.”

He turned, deliberate, every muscle primed and programmed. “You lock in by stripping down the noise, flexing up the ego, and tightening every thought into one goal: Dominate.”

Tap — temple. Tap — chest. Tap — quad.

“Up here. In here. Right there. That’s where the win starts.”

He smirked. The spirals pulsed.

“Lace up. Black out. Let the game take you, and be a good dumb jock"

Wells doesn’t do “grit.” Wells does guarantees.

Determination isn’t about trying harder. It’s about deciding they’re not walking off the field proud.

So yeah, he’ll train through lactic burn, through soaking spandex, through eyes locked on that mirror like it owes him answers. Because “almost” isn’t in gold vocabulary.

And tomorrow?

They’ll say, “We didn’t see him coming.” But they did. They just couldn’t stop him.

Wells 58 doesn’t bluff. He broadcasts.

Selfie mode. Sweat-dripping. Tights locked in. The message is simple: You’re not ready. And you’re not fast enough.

This isn’t just cardio. It’s combat conditioning.