A cold, wet, windy Wednesday night...

Chapter V - A taste of glory

The return leg against the Impact was easier than anticipated. We controlled the game from the moment the ref blew his whistle, a quick double by Kenny Miller helping us to a 2-0 win and a place in the finals against Toronto, and our second clean sheet of the season. The joy was not to last, though, as our next game, away at Real Salt Lake, brought us bad news. Kenny Miller suffered a double leg break after a horrific challenge that the ref didn't even deem a foul. We managed to rescue a draw thanks to a late goal by Charisteas, but losing our designated player and top goalscorer dealt a hard blow to our chances, particularly considering our next game was LA Galaxy at home.

That was a far sterner test than what we had faced so far. A forward pairing of Landon Donovan and Robbie Keane facing Johnny Leveron and the inexperienced Emmanuel Gomez? A rout was on the cards, and when the game begun our worst fears were confirmed, as the Galaxy threatened our goal time and time again. Finally, half an hour into the game, Robbie Rogers got the first goal for LA. "If we can hold on till half time we might just turn this around", I thought. It was not to be, as just before half time Rogers got his second. While my main concern for the game had been my centre backs, it was Klukowski, playing at left back, that proved most vulnerable. A sigh of relief mixed with disappointment could be heard around the ground as the referee called time on the first half.

"We've been poor and you know it. They may have some top, top players in their team, but I expect more from you, and so do those fans. This may be a retirement league for the Robbie Keanes or Thierry Henrys of the world, but not for us. We're expected to work hard. I expect you to work hard. So let's get out there and give 100%. If we are to lose, at least we'll do it with our dignity intact. Let's go get them!"

The response was almost immediate. It wasn't reflected on the scoreline right away, mind you, but the team showed a different attitude, with Charisteas heading inches away five minutes into the half. A handful of minutes later, a foul by Omar Gonzalez inside the box was overlooked by the ref, but we were not to be denied for long. On 60 minutes, after a scramble in the box, Emmanuel Gomez hit the back of the net. Soon after, Rogers had to leave the game after being injured by Klukowski, who got booked, and I decided to replace him with Lee for the final minutes of the game. It proved to be a lucky call - on the 89th​ minute, Salmeen found Lee open outside the box and the Korean set himself up before unleashing a powerful strike past the hapless Jaime Penedo. The fans were ecstatic, and even though we missed a couple of chances in added time, I was more than happy with the draw. It wasn't only a good result, but it was also a morale-raising one in preparation for a tough run of games: away at Toronto for the first leg of the Canadian Championship final, a derby against Portland, the return leg of the final and a trip to New York to face the Red Bulls.

Things went a lot better than expected: The first game against Toronto was hard-fought, but we were in control for most of the 90 minutes and right after the break Charisteas managed to curl a cracking long range effort past the hapless Stefan Frei. The real surprise, however, was the game against Portland. 25 seconds into the game, Bouazza put us in front, and three minutes later Rusin doubled our lead. 2 minutes later Charisteas scored his first goal of the game. Alhassan made it 4-0 on 16 minutes and Charisteas scored twice more on 21 and 30 minutes to put us 6-0 up. I decided to rest a few key players for the second half in anticipation of the second leg against Toronto and the scoreline wasn't altered in the final 45 minutes. Confidence among the players was at its highest, and so was the trust the fans and most importantly the board had in me.

The second leg of the final was, in the end, a walk in the park. Goals by Charisteas and Reo-Coker gave us a 2-0 win in a game we dominated with ease. It was my first-ever title, as either player or manager, and I was thrilled. While it was a relatively minor competition, it was the first time since its inception that Vancouver took the trophy home. Furthermore, it gave us a spot in the CONCACAF Champions League, and 80 thousand dollars I could use for transfer purposes.

The game at New York on June 1 was a different matter. We had a few shots during the first half and Charisteas put us in front just before the break, his goal turning him into the top season goalscorer in Whitecaps history. From then on, however, it was all New York, who -luckily for us- were without the injured Thierry Henry. They had a glorious chance wasted by Dax McCarty, who had hit the woodwork in the first half, and decent chances for Timmy Cahill and Bradley Wright-Phillips, but Donovan Ricketts had a blinder and managed to keep us in front. When the ref blew his whistle, there was a huge sigh of relief coming from the away stand where our fans had been biting their nails throughout the half.

We had had four clean sheets in a row, after finding them hard to come by during most of the season. We had held out against LA, had won the Canadian Championship and had beaten NY at their place, even if it they were without their star player. As we rode the bus back to Vancouver -we had a few days off and the chairman was feeling like saving a few extra bucks-, I couldn't get something off my mind. Sitting alone at the back, I couldn't help but worry about our goalscoring. Granted, we had put 6 past Portland, but none of those came from Kenny Miller's replacement, Guatemalan veteran striker Carlos Ruiz. Charisteas was on fire, and our midfielders had pitched in with a few goals of their own, but what would happen if Charisteas' goals dried up, or if he got injured? We needed a killer in the box, someone who we could rely on to score goals regularly. As I was thinking on potential alternatives for Ruiz, my mobile rang.

"Hello?"
"It's me, Amelie. Bob sent me an e-mail, he's offering an extension. Before you say anything, there's been contact from Mexico. The season is about to begin down there and a couple of teams asked about your availability, being on a short-term deal and all."
"I'm not going to leave the boys mid-season, plus I'm pretty comfortable here anyways. Thank the Mexicans for their interest but I'd rather prolong my stay."
"Alright, when do I set up the meeting with Bob?"
"Don't, I won't be back for a couple of days and I'll be quite busy when I get there. Could you handle this for me? I trust your judgement."
"Well, considering I get 10% of whatever you earn, I should try to get you a good deal, shouldn't I?"

I laughed, said goodbye and hung up. "Enough chit-chat," I thought. "Back to business. Next game is Seattle away, followed by New England and Chivas at home? all in the middle of the international break. This is going to suck..."
 
Chapter VI - It's not about not going down, but about getting back on your feet

"This is Joe Maher from the American Soccer Messenger. Sigi, first of all, congratulations on the win. What's your take on the game? How did you manage to stop the so far undefeated Whitecaps?"
"Well, it was always going to be a tough match" replied Sigi Schmidt, "but once we were 2-0 up we just had to dig in and hope for the best, that's all you can do when facing such a talented team-"
"What's that smell?" I interrupted. All of the cameras quickly turned to me. "It's like a mixture of bull and ****."
A murmur was heard across the room, and the look on Schmidt?s face was just priceless. "...excuse me?"
"You know what I'm talking about. You may brag about defeating our team, but you are well aware that I had to buy a new keeper just to have someone older than 15 between the sticks. Half of my starters were away on international duty thanks to this stupid calendar. You're lucky none of your players are good enough to play for their national teams." That wasn't entirely true because Dempsey was a member of the USMNT, but I didn't really care.
The Seattle press officer was indignant. "Mr. Perna I'm going to have to ask you to-"
?**** up? You can kiss my ***, I'm leaving. **** you, and **** whoever designed this calendar"
"That would be commissioner Garber" said one of the journalists in the press room.
"Well then, **** him" I said, as I stood up and walked out of the room. Most of the press walked out with me, trying to get a few answers.
"Are you planning on complaining to FIFA about MLS not respecting their calendar?"
"Are you going to leave the MLS for Mexico? We've heard of interest from Pachuca and Tijuana."
"What are you going to do for the next couple of games?"
I turned around at the door and addressed them collectively. "All I can tell you is that I'm not planning on losing the next few games, even if I have to take the pitch myself. Now go back to the press room, Sigi must be feeling lonely over there."

As I walked out, the smile I had worn so naturally on my face during the conference vanished. It had all been a charade. Deep down, I felt was a mixture of sadness and fear. It was my first ever defeat as a manager, and it felt like ****. I hadn't expected it, either. Furthermore, it was a derby defeat, and I didn't know how the players would take it. Not well, I suppose. I got on the team bus and, as expected, the lads were not looking good. Without saying a word I walked past them to the back of the bus. I hadn't even sat down when my phone rang. A familiar female voice was on the other side.

"You idiot, you're going to get fined for that. Why did you have to take a swing at Garber?"
"I was ******. Plus, I wanted to put on a little show, you know..."
"Oh, enjoying the spotlight, aren't you?"
"Something like-"
She didn't let me finish. "A few months ago you were so desperate to get the job that you got me fired. Now you're just wasting your money to "put on a show"... You're turning into a cocky idiot really quickly, did you know that?"
"Hey, I-"
She hung up, but I wasn't about to let the issue die out so easily and dialed back. She sent me straight to voicemail, though.
"I know you're there, pick up. I'm sorry, I was ****** after the defeat and I figured I could try a few mind games before the next couple of games. I'm sorry."
Soon she texted me back. "I'll pick up when you stop acting like a child. Play all the "mind games" (What the **** is that, anyways?) you want, but that was just a tantrum. Show some class next time. And grow up, it's not going to be the last time you get beaten".
"Grow up". That comment really ****** me off. Who was she to tell me to grow up? But then it hit me. I was sitting alone at the back of the bus like an angry child after throwing a little tantrum in the middle of a press conference while my players were shouldering the burden of our first defeat, in a derby nonetheless. It was not only childish, but it also showed a lack of character... she might just have a point. I got up and hurried to the front of the bus.

"Come here, lads." I told the players. "It was always going to be a tough game. Those who had to step up did well and I'm proud of all of you. Don't worry, we'll get revenge sooner rather than later. I know a few of you are off to your respective international commitments tomorrow, but those who stay, I want you to know that I have the utmost faith in you. We have a tough couple of home games coming, but I know you will be up for them. I told the press we weren't planning on losing either game, are you with me on that?"
Nigel spoke up for everyone. "Yes, coach. I'm sure we'll do the fans proud. And I'm sure we?ll make them pay next time we meet."
"Great. Now try to get some rest, next game is coming soon and I' plan on working your ***** off when we get back home."

A few hours later, as we were reaching Vancouver, I got an e-mail notifying me of the 50k fine imposed by the league for my "inappropriate behavior and offensive language". I couldn't care any less. But it reminded me that I had a phone call to make.

"Amelie?"
"Of course it's me who else is it going to be? You do know it's 2 AM, right?"
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn?t realize. I-"
"Can't it wait till tomorrow?"
"I... I guess it-"
"Good. I'll talk to you then."
"Okay, sorry". She had already hung up. Tough woman this one, I thought.

I didn't have much luck with her the next day, either. I did have some more luck with my pep talk on board the bus, though. Even though I only had 14 players available for the next 2 games we got a 1-1 draw against New England -courtesy of a 94 minute penalty converted by Carlos Ruiz- and a 2-0 win against Chivas, followed by a disappointing 2-2 draw against DC United in our last game in June. Still, going undefeated for three games after the derby loss wasn't that bad. First game of July was away at Sporting Kansas City, and then it would be payback time... a home derby against none other than the Seattle Sounders.
 
Chapter VII - Up, down then up again!

Kansas City was no match for us. We only got a 1-0 win, but we dominated the game and only an inspired performance by their 'keeper prevented a rout. But the real joy came with the game against Seattle. They say revenge is a dish best served cold. And this was a cold, wet, windy night at the BC for Sigi Schmidt and his boys. Eddie Johnson put them in front 24 minutes into the game and Ruiz leveled for us 6 minutes later. But after denying us at every opportunity their keeper was heartbroken when first Bouazza on 91 minutes and then Heinemann on 93 hit the back of the net to give us a 3-1 win. I did publicly apologize to Sigi for my previous comments but for the US media I was already a "bad boy", and for the local press I was a lovable anti-hero of sorts. A Canadian newspaper gave me front page with the title "What's that smell? It's like a mixture of victory and revenge".

We didn't have much time to rest on our laurels, though. After a convincing 2-0 win over Chicago came a tough away match against Los Angeles, where only the profligacy of their strikers kept the score at 0-0 throughout the 90 minutes. While it was a performance to be proud of, considering LA were our closest rivals in the league, we were unable to build on it as a week later we lost our first home game of the season, a 2-1 defeat to Philadelphia in a game we dominated, but were unable to put the ball in the back of the net. It was a day to forget, as our following game would be our continental debut. We had been drawn in a group with Mexican side Toluca and Guatemalan Comunicaciones, and we were to face the seasoned Toluca first. In a game like that you want, or rather need, your players to be in good spirits.

During midweek most of our exercises were focused on defensive play, but we also let the players enjoy themselves with some team bonding exercises aimed at keeping them in a good mood. Although Leveron would miss the game with injury, I trusted Bryce Alderson to hold his own at the heart of defense. When the crucial day finally came, they were raring to go.

"Lads" I told them in the locker room, "this is the first time ever this club has qualified for continental competition. This fans will, for the first time, enjoy the experience of an elite football tounament. Let's make them proud!?"A roar of approval came from the players and we made our way towards the pitch, where the fans greeted us with cheers of joy.

Spurred by our support, we got in front really quickly, Reo-Coker taking advantage of a scramble in the box to score a short-range shot. The Mexicans were unable to get a foothold on the game and throughout the first half we dominated them, which made my team talk at the break rather easy.

"We've done well so far boys, but we need to stay focused. They're veterans in these kind of games, both here and in the Libertadores, so we must keep pushing forward. A second goal would be great, but just keeping them in their half would do us the world of good. Now let's go!"

The second goal took it?s time to arrive. It was substitute Omar Salgado -who would in the end be named man of the match- with a powerful header following a corner kick who got the goal that put the game beyond doubt. If there was any, that is, because he had most of the possession until that point and we had almost triple the amount of shots on target, and that was counting their long shots. When the ref blew the final whistle, the fans let their excitement be heard. "Good job lads" was all I had to say to my boys after the game. "Let's have some fun now, shall we? Go out, get some drinks, enjoy yourselves tonight." As the players left the dressing room, Nigel turned back and asked me if I wanted to join them at a nearby pub. I respectfully declined. "That would undermine my position", I thought. But nothing was going to stop me from getting drunk tonight... just not with the rest of the squad.

I stopped by a pub on my way home. I walked towards the bar and asked the bartender for a beer. When she brought it, she stared at me for a second. "Don't I know you from somewhere?"
"Believe me, if we had met before I'd remember you", I told her. She was quite pretty, really. Dark skin, short, black hair, and big brown eyes, maybe a bit short, but I wasn't exactly tall, either. After my compliment she just smiled and went to pour another guy a drink.
As I drank my pint, my phone rang. "Amelie", read the screen. I was about to pick up when the barmaid came back.
"I know who you are! You are the Whitecaps manager, aren't you? Here, this one's on the house!" she said, handing me a new pint.
"**** it", I thought. Amelie darling, it's your turn to pay a visit to my voicemail. I turned to the barmaid: "Yes, yes I am. You can call me Alejandro. Thank you for the drink by the way, but you needn't. I'll tell you what, have a drink with me" I told her, handing her a few bucks. Amelie called again but I didn't pick up, either, and she didn't try again.
A few hours (and drinks) later, the pub was closing. As I made my way out, I heard the barmaid behind me. "There's a room upstairs, if you want to stick around for a cup of coffee..."
 
I'm not sure anyone's even reading this anymore but in the end I won the league and it kinda became pointless to keep writing as I had expected this to be a big big challenge which in the end it wasn't. If anyone's still reading or is interested in the MLS I wouldn't mind posting a couple more OOC updates on how things ended up, the draft, and stuff like that.
 
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