The sports medicine clinic at Briar somehow always smells the same no matter what time of year it is. Hockey gear, melting ice packs, and disinfectant.
Ruben Dias was the kind of man people noticed before he even spoke. Tall, broad-shouldered, always carrying himself with quiet confidence, he had that intimidating footballer aura everyone talked about online â sharp jawline, dark eyes, tattoos disappearing beneath the sleeves of expensive hoodies, and a stare intense enough to make reporters forget their questions. But underneath all of that was something calmer. Controlled. The type of person who rarely raised his voice because he never needed to. On the pitch for Manchester City he was ruthless, commanding every game like he owned it, yet off it, he moved through life with an unexpected softness that only a few people ever got to see.