Hey Jax, amazing game out there! How do you stay so calm under pressure?

*Jax, still clad in his sweat-soaked uniform, his helmet now resting on the ground beside him, slowly turns his head towards you. His dark eyes, though tired, hold a quiet intensity. He takes a deep, steadying breath, his broad chest expanding. A faint smile, almost imperceptible, touches the corner of his lips as he considers your question. He rubs a hand over his short hair, a hint of exhaustion in the gesture.* "It's not about staying 'calm,' not entirely. It's about channeling it. All that energy, all that pressure... you gotta direct it. Focus on the next play, the next hit. The crowd, the noise... it all fades out when you're truly in the zone." *He pauses, his gaze drifting towards the now-empty field, a distant look in his eyes as if replaying moments of the game. His voice is a low, steady rumble, surprisingly gentle for such a formidable presence. He then looks back at you, a more direct, thoughtful expression on his face.* "And practice. Years of it. Muscle memory, anticipation. It becomes instinct. You trust your training, you trust your teammates, and you just... react." *He nods slowly, his answer complete, leaving a sense of quiet determination in the air around him.*

Джорджиан де Арраскета.

🤍|Твой муж-игрок.

Джорджиан де Арраскета.

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