Alpha Romeo Metaphor IV

[Enrico Pucci]

It was a 1pm kickoff so we had time to see the sites of Berlin in the morning. ATK was from Berlin and showed us around. She took us to her favorite breakfast place, we saw the Brandenburg Gate, Potsdamer Platz, Checkpoint Charlie and strolled through the Tiergarten for a while. Eventually we piled into two taxis and made it back to the hotel with time to spare.

FC Viktoria 1889 Berlin played at Friedrich-Ludwig-Jahn-Sportpark which was just north of the center. Honestly, we could have just walked from Brandenburg Gate. Its one of those old-school stadiums with a track around it. Furthermore, it was nearly empty with most of the fans up under the shade in the main stand. It was more like pandemicball than the full stadiums we were getting used to again.

Muhammed Kiprit had twisted his knee on Thursday, so Saydou Bangura made his debut up top. Jan Hempel has a tight hamstring so teenager Neal Gibs gets the start. Kevin Kraus was great against Werder so he keeps his place over Lukimya.

It was a slow start until the 28th minute. Marlon Ritter chipped a ball up toward Bangura. Saydou flicked it into the space in the left channel and, to nobody’s surprise, Asayamen Osawe was first to the ball.

As I heard the herd from the bench stampeding towards me, Osawe slammed his shot of the second post. The stampede slowed to a groaning, moaning halt.

I was still shaking my head in disbelief when we won a corner a minute later. Kraus slammed Ritter’s second post corner past the frozen keeper.

0-1

I thought we were going to overrun our opponents but they managed to clear two balls off the line before the halftime whistle sounded.

In the 49th minute, Osawe gave the ball away in the Berlin half. Most teams would have sprung a counter attack as both my wing backs were way up the field. But they dawdled and Ritter nipped the ball off their midfielder. Niehues tapped it back to central defender Boris Tomiak who launched a long ball towards Bangura. Their central defender had a firm grip on Bangura's shirt so Bangura couldn't jump. It didn't matter though because missed the ball and it was over his head.

Osawe timed his run as if Bangura was going to flick it and was in on goal.

He did not make a mistake this time.

0-2

At this point I would like to tell you how I subbed out my tiring Captain Jean Zimmer, my exhausted defensive midfielder Niehues and Ritter and how their replacements managed the clock and ground out the points.

Of course, it wasn't like that. Nope, not at all. Actually, the complete opposite. Suddenly, the Berlin team poured down their left flank into the void where my captain had been patrolling.

Avdo Spahik had to make two brilliant, point blank saves to preserve his shutout. Their big forward Benyamina suddenly was getting great service and finding spaces in between our defenders.

The first was a point blank header the 74th minute.

Both Jörg and Lorenzo were up off the bench screaming at Kraus, Tomiak and the replacement defensive midfielder Winkler.

The second time was in the 85th minute when Kraus forgot about Benyamina and he blasted a volley from 5m at Spahik.

“Wow!” I exclaimed as I turned to look at goalkeeping coach Wimmer. Wimmer was off the bench pumping his fists as if his keeper had just scored. In effect, he kind of had.

Jörg continued to yell at Kraus and the rest of the defenders.

The players pulled themselves together after that second scare and saw the match out.

Of their six shots taken and five on target, three of those came between the 75th and 85th minute. Other than that ten minute spell, we were utterly dominant.

 

[Lippo255]

Enrico does what S.I. haven't managed to do in all the years I've been playing FM. Make a press conference tolerable!

Nice work mate, loving it!

 

[Enrico Pucci]

Enrico does what S.I. haven't managed to do in all the years I've been playing FM. Make a press conference tolerable!

Nice work mate, loving it!

I do what I can w/ those pressers Thanks!

 

[MatthewElphinstone]

Could you imagine Jorg being sent to the presser in Enrico's place

 

[Enrico Pucci]

Could you imagine Jorg being sent to the presser in Enrico's place

It'd be fine. What could go wrong?

 

[Enrico Pucci]

Tuesday, 17 August 2021

7:30am

“How can I help you?”

“Shave and shave with buff up top,” I said.

“Have a seat,” the barber said motioning to a chair.

I saw all at the Kaiserslautern banners hanging on the wall as I sat. Several signed team pictures. Signed photos of Miroslav Klose, Mario Basler, Otto Rehhagel, and Thomas Hengen.

“What do you do for work?”

“Do?”

“Work?”

“I’m the new manager,” I said pointing at the wall.

“Ja, I thought so. Well, welcome to our fair city and our beloved club, Enrico Pucci.”

“I’d guessed you’re a supporter. Season ticket holder?”

“Indeed.” He said as I got his straight blade out.

“Well, I hope you're enjoying it so far this season.”

“This squad should be just about good enough,” he said as draped the cloth over me. “That Werder match was special.”

"Thanks. They were as bad as we were good."

"Very true," he replied as he put a hot cloth over the top of my head.

“What do you think the squad’s biggest asset is? Who are the key players?”

“The players are all right, I suppose, good enough for this league,” he said as he began shaving. “Past managers just haven’t been able to get much out of the squad. Weak, uncoordinated attack. Mediocre defending. Just uninspired, I guess.”

“What kind of trouble have I gotten myself into?”

“Expectations nightmare.”

“Expectations, ja?”

“Think about it. Founding member of the Bundesliga, four times champion, and only the Cup in ’03 in this century. The whole promotion-then-champions thing will never be forgotten. But we’re in the third league now. We draw the biggest crowds but Fritz-Walter is never even half full. We’ve done nothing but fail for the last decade.”

“Nowhere to go but up,” I said.

“We almost were in danger of relegation from the third, you know,” he continued as he set the straight blade down and began applying alum to my scalp. “The pandemic kind of saved us. Sort of. The season was cut short and we picked up a couple of points to rise up the table before it got too scary.”

“Yeah, crazy times in so many ways,” I said.

“I hope you kick some sense into the squad,” he said as began buffing. “They’re just collecting paychecks.”

“I can promise you we’ll be solid defensively,” I said. “That’s just putting in the hard work.”

“And scaring them,” he added. “You were a scary man back in the day, Enrico. Watched your YouTube highlights. We could use that kind of intensity. You haven’t mellowed in your retirement, have you?”

I laughed. He shaved the back of my neck.

“What do you think?” he held up a mirror so I could see the back.

“Very shiny.”

“Time to shave the other part of your head,” he said.

 

[Enrico Pucci]

Wednesday, 18 August 2021

7:22pm

“Hey Vic,” I said in English.

“Enrico, how are you?” my father-in-law asked.

“I’m good. You usually call Gwen. What’s the occasion?”

“Well, I’ve finally been to the new Plough Lane.”

“Wow! How was it.”

“It was great! Its a great little stadium. The food is ****, we beat Gillingham and, well, it just felt like a completion of an arc. An arc in which you played a part.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen the pictures. It looks great. I’m so happy for you guys. For all wombles everywhere.”

“Yeah, it was a special night.”

“I’ve been following the club. You only had your first match with people in the place a couple of days ago. I phoned Erik to congratulate him.” Erik Samuelson was Chairman of the fan-owned club and had been my boss.

“Yeah, had to miss that one. Gala event with Marilyn.”

“Speaking of, how is she?”

“Oh, she’s good. She’s good. We wanted to pop over and see our grandkids, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“You’re welcome whenever, of course.”

“How about the first week in September?”

“Sounds great.”

“Don’t forget to tell Gwen.”

“Don’t worry, I will.”

“Cheers!”

“Ciao.”

Click.

 

[Enrico Pucci]

The stadium was half full with most of the fans in the Westkurv on a moist afternoon at the Fritz-Walter. It had either been threatening rain or misting all day.

1860 were off to a poor start and lay in 17th. We'd worked on our set pieces as they looked vulnerable in the their last match.

Muhammed Kiprit was healthy so he replaced teenager Saydou Bangura up top. Assani Lukimya replaced Kevin Kraus at the back. Jay Hempel replaced teenager Neal Gibs at left back.

We started well enough.

We took the ball into the 1860 half and started poking and prodding, trying to find a weakness.

Rene Klingenburg stung their keeper's hands in the second minute with a thirty meter missile.

They cleared the ensuing corner, raced forward on the counter and forced Avdo Spahik into a diving, fingertip save.

For the opening twenty minutes, both teams raced back and forth across the pitch attempting to create scoring chances. We created the better chances but Osayamen Osawe wasted two gilt-edged opportunities.

Nothing happened after the 30 minute mark.1860 got better organized and we got too cute with our passing instead of running hard off the ball.

"F*** that s***," Jörg growled as we walked up the tunnel at halftime.

I told my players I wasn't happy with their play in the first half and urged them to work harder off the ball.

It didn't help.

In the 58th minute, I replaced Kiprit with Bangura.

Kenny Redondo ran after a corner we'd cleared, raced the length of the pitch, held the ball up while reinforcements charged into the 1860 penalty box. He chipped a pass into Bangura's path. Unfortunately, smashed his free header off the cross bar.

They marched down the field and scored.

Jan Hempel decided that he needed to slide inside and help out Lukimya. Jörg and I were bellowing at him to get back out to the flank as their right winger was wide open.

Their right winger curled in a cross which their striker Sascha Mölders headed past Spahik right in front of the Westkurv.

After that, we flailed our arms, metaphorically speaking.

We gnashed our teeth.

We attempted to kick the ball into the opponents net. The problem is that its hard but not impossible to play football while choking yourself with both hands.

We created the chances but just couldn't manage to get one past their keeper, whereas, they only had two good chances and scored once.

And sometimes one is all you need.

"F*** this s***," Ulf said to Jörg as the watched the players trudge off the field.

 

[Enrico Pucci]

Saturday, 21 August 2021

5ish pm

We all sat glumly around Die Kabine. The players were all gone.

"What's your assessments of what we just saw?" I asked.

"That was f***ing s***," Jörg said.

"Hempel, Hempel, Hempel," Lorenzo D'Anna said.

"Legs were too tired those last ten minutes when we needed to press forward," fitness coach Günther Kern added.

"That was some three Liga finishing for sure," Ulf said. "We sure created enough chances. What was the xG?"

"1.00 exactly," Head Performance Analyst David Aschenbroich. "They had 0.47. Which is just about right. We created double the chances."

"Kenny Redondo didn't have that great of a game," I said. "Aside from that length-of-the-field run, he just never beat anybody. We need him taking on defenders and beating them. He was always so so close to breaking the game wide open."

"And I have no time this week to really work with the forwards," Ulf added. We have a rare mid-week match this coming week.

"Its all mental, isn't it?" I asked Ulf.

"Ja," he nodded. "Its those little things. Like Bangura's big chance. If his footwork was better, he would have been better prepared to jump a fraction of a second early. A fraction of a second earlier and he would have been able to head the ball downward. Its those little things. A million little things."

"I'm going to have to rotate players for Tuesday's match," I said. "Günther's right. Zimmer, Ritter, Klingenburg and Kenny were all looking tired towards the end there. They need a full week's training to be fresh for Zwickau on Saturday. What do we face away at Halle?"

"Halle play a four-two-three-one, but they'll sit back against us and park the bus," Scout Florian

said. "They play safe and hope for some luck. Their luck has come so far this season through their midfielder Michael Eberwein. He sits in the hole behind the striker. He feeds off the striker or makes late runs. He's got three goals and two assists so far. Shut him down, shut Halle down."

"Sounds simple enough," I said. "Alright, thanks guys. I'll see you all tomorrow, bright and early."

 

[Enrico Pucci]

“I know just the thing for you my world-weary, Sisyphus of a man,” Gwen said after I’d flopped down onto the couch with a tremendous sigh. “Just what you need to get your mind off tonight’s loss.”

“And that would be?”

“Italian food.”

“Yup, that probably would help.”

“I figured. Elke’s on her way over.”

“Do we even pay her enough?” I asked.

“You don’t even know, do you my laser-focused on his job man?”

“Uh, no?”

“Well just relax because she’s bringing home some filthy jack for her suffering at the hands of our family.”

“I assume filthy jack means a lot?” I asked. Gwen just snorted. “Suffering? What suffering?”

“Go and get your shoes back on my Spaghetti alla Carbonara of a man.”

“Um, your Dad called.”

“I know.”

“So you know they want to visit?”

“I do.”

 

[Enrico Pucci]

Halle is just northwest of Leipzig. We left at 11am for our five hour drive into the east of Germany to make sure we had plenty of time to warm up for our 7pm kickoff.

I rotated the squad as my main starters had played like **** and looked tired. The only regulars were keeper Spahic, midfield maestro Marlon Ritter and defensive midfielder Julian Niehues. Kevin Kraus is somewhat regular but whatever.

The stadium was more than half full and seemed pretty loud as unlike Berlin, the fans were right on top of us.

Halle weren't very exciting and we were dreary.

Nothing really dangerous happened until the 33rd minute when they recycled the ball after a corner their midfielder toe poked a ball into the danger zone. Their lone striker Terrence Boyd didn't hit is shot all that hard and its was an easy save for Spahic.

The match waddled towards halftime.

I looked around the stadium and the Halle fans were bored. The Roten Teufels had tried repeatedly to get into the game, but this match was just a wet, stinky penguin of a game.

I mean, penguins are fine. I'm told they smell bad.

This match stunk to high heaven.

Jörg didn't even swear as we walked into the team room at halftime.

"I am concerned that some of you haven't woken up from your naps on the bus," I said once everyone was sitting down. "For many of you, this is your first chance to impress me. I am not impressed. For those of you who have featured before, wake the f*** up. You're playing down to their level. i expect better than the dreary s*** I just saw in the first half."

My team talk didn't work.

In the 48th minute, a channel opened up and one of their midfielders slid pass though into the pass of the hard-charging Julian Destroff. He'd made a run from deep that nobody picked up.

Spahic spread himself and Derstroff's shot hit him, deflecting out for a corner.

"F***!" I swore.

I had a bad feeling about how this match was going. So did the Halle fans. They were up on their feet. They knew we were ripe for the taking.

I tried repeatedly to get my players attention and fire them up. At least teenager Neal Gibs heard me and stopped a promising break down our left with a strong sliding tackle.

I put on Osayamen Osawe and Muhammed Kiprit to spice up the attack. But only Osawe helps on defense by marking their right fullback.

Nobody could plug the ever-widening breach in our defense.

Their breakthrough came from a cross in from their left in the 70th minute. Right back Philipp Hercher didn't put up much defense and their left winger smacked a grass-burner ball toward the 5m box. Kraus, Niehues and Winkler were all their surrounding their forward Justin Eiliers who'd replaced Boyd.

He shouldn't have done much with this cross.

But you know where this is going. He flicked it goalward. It bounced off Winkler and trickled past Spahic.

1-0

"Get Kenny on," I said to Jörg. Jörg signaled to the players warming up for Kenny to come over.

Kiprit bumbled.

Kenny stumbled.

Osawe ran as fast as he could down dead end allies.

It was starting to look really grim.

We just started lobbing balls forward.

Then one found Kiprit. Or I should say he found it. He only touched it once. He flicked a 40m chip past the stranded keeper and we were saved.

I looked at the clock. 89:49. We'd just committed highway f***ing robbery.

 

[Enrico Pucci]

"We got away with one today," I said.

Some players were looking at the floor. Others were nodding in agreement.

"Muhammed saved us today," I continued. "I just hope they don't pull the bus over and arrest him for f***ing robbery. We didn't deserve this point. But we have it you can thank Muhammed for the beers tonight."

Those nearby Muhammed slapped him on the back.

"You didn't work hard enough defensively," I said. "You didn't support each. You didn't talk out there. For some of you this was your chance to impress me. You didn't. This is 3.Liga. I know what it takes to get a team promoted. That s*** out their tonight will not get this club promoted. Each and everyone one of you has to want promotion more than anything. Promotion is a wall you have to run through. Its going to hurt. That extra sprint back in the 88th minute when you can't get any oxygen into your lungs. That is the sprint that matters. Knowing that if your man gets his cross in, we don't get promoted. That kind of determined defending. Knowing that if your man slips past you, the points we dropped today are the points that prevent us from getting promoted. That kind of determined defending. You have to want it more."

It was a long, quiet bus ride back home.

 

[Lippo255]

"A wet, stinky penguin of a game" Don't believe I've heard a game described that way before...

 

[Enrico Pucci]

Dear readers,

I apologize, I somehow thought that the World Cup in Qatar was happening this winter (21/22) when in fact its next winter starting in November.

I'll go back and edit the offending posts.

Thanks for reading ...

 

[Enrico Pucci]

What a lovely afternoon for some football. I was hoping for a response from our last two poor performances. Once again, the Fritz-Walter was half full with the majority of fans in the Westkurv.

Zwickau were going to be tough opposition. They were joint top scorers with nine, thanks to their 4-1 pounding of Viktoria 1899, but they had conceded nine. They were the Suicide Squad of 3.Liga.

They lived up to Florian's prediction.

They ran at us from the outset and won a free kick in the 4th minute.

They curled in a free kick and Assani Lukimya lost his man. He flicked a header past Avdo Spahic into the far corner.

0-1

S*** happens.

We'll have to work on defending free kicks and corners next week, I guess.

I was more concerned about how we'd respond. We didn't. Zwickau kept us pinned in our own end.

In the 9th minute, ATK was sprinting out on the field as Kenny Redondo pulled up lame then laid down. ATK signalled for a change then spoke into her mic.

"S***," Jörg said to me as he listened to his ear piece. "Groin."

Hendrick Zuck went on as his replacement.

Around 20 minutes we finally managed to get into their end but they broke on the counter. Then pinned us in again.

In the 24th, Captain Jean Zimmer sent Zuck scampering down the right flank. The Zwickau fullback had him covered so he tapped a pass back to Rene Klingenburg.

Rene clipped a cross toward the back post.

Osayamen Osawe outjumped their right back and slammed his header into the open net.

1-1

We managed to keep the ball more after we scored but didn't look very dangerous. Zwickau on the other hand, were making me nervous.

When they had the ball in our half, they kept passing back and forth across the face of our defense looking for an opening.

Eventually, the ref blew his whistle for half time.

"We have to pick up the tempo," I said to Jörg and Ulf. They both nodded. "That was not the performance I wanted to see from them."

The second half started off the same as the first, Zwickau pinned us back and we couldn't get out of our helf.

We occasionally got forward, but our attacks always fizzled out and they'd break on the counter.

In the 62nd minute, yet another attack fizzled and they broke down our left flank. Their right winger was sprinting forward and Neal Gibs was catching him. The Zwickau player tapped the ball forward and Gibs timed his tackle perfectly. The player went sprawling as the ball bounced of the advertising.

The ref ran up, blowing his whistle.

"For what?" I yelled. This tackle happened right in front of me.

He fumbled in his pocket. This couldn't be good.

He pulled out a red card.

"Jörg, get Hempel ready," I yelled at the bench. "He's on for Ritter. Klingenburg to defensive mid. Hempel at left back."

We'd play a four-two-three formation with wingers up top.

"Osawe, Zuck," I yelled. "Wingers! Play as wingers! Mark the fullbacks!"

Osawe heard me and got Zuck's attention.

We made our sub and the match continued.

Zwickau didn't create all that many chances. We maintained our shape and worked really hard defensively.

As the clock rolled past eighty minutes, I kept telling myself that a draw after a sending off was always acceptable.

As the clock rolled past ninety minutes, I started getting nervous that Zwickau might finally break us down.

Then Zimmer sent Zuck down the right flank. They tackled the ball out of bounds. I looked up at the clock.

91:14

Zimmer threw in to Klingenburg who gave it right back to him.

Zimmer smashed a cross towards the five meter box, but over everyone's heads.

Muhammed Kiprit chased it down and spun with it on the far edge of the box.

He saw Klingenburg wide open at the far side of the box and fired at pass at him.

Klingenburg took a step back to correct his positioning and smashed a volley into the far corner of the net.

2-1

Klingenburg raced towards the Westkurv and was mobbed by his teammates. The Westkurv lost its collective mind.
I was swept onto the pitch by a tsunami off the bench.

 

[Enrico Pucci]

“Where should we start, Enrico?” Florian Carre of OneFootball said.



“I don’t know, what a match.”

“Let’s start with the match changing event, Neal Gibs’ red card,” Carre said. “Your thoughts?”

“Well, it happened right in front of me,” I began. “He’s made that same sweeping, slide tackle a bunch of times before. He had one previously in today’s match. I have no idea what the ref saw that everybody else in the stadium didn’t. I mean, I try to be supportive of the refs. They have a tough job and they usually get it right. I’m at a loss.”

“So you’re saying it was a good tackle?” Carre asked.

“Ja, I’m completely confused on why it was a red.”

“Have you spoken to the officials?” Dennis Friedel of Sport Buzzer asked.

“No. Have you? They never answer me so why bother.”

“Will this have an impact on Gibs playing time?” Jakob Böttcher asked.

“I’m more worried about what effect it will have on his mindset,” I replied. “In my mind, he’s done nothing wrong yet received the ultimate punishment. I hope he doesn’t hesitate next time he’s running with his man and should make that same, lovely sweep tackle he’s so good at.”

“I’d like to switch subject to the goals,” Carre said. “Would you walk us through them?”

“Sure. That first was just us falling asleep. Assani Lukimya challenges his man on a header like that ninety nine percent of the time. He won’t make that mistake again.”

“That second goal was what I liked to see. Guile, awareness, strength. Zimmer, Zuck and Klingenburg were great down the right flank today. Their interchanges ripped them apart. Great awareness and pass by Klingenburg. Great determination to win the header by Osawe. Great goal.”

“Klingenburg has been threatening to smash one of those long range shots in for a while now. I”m really, extremely glad today was the day. What timing. This is what makes football so magical. By all rights, Zwickau should have scored as they were a man up. But we held strong. This wasn’t our prettiest match, not our best performance. But we held together, worked hard for each other and, wow, what an ending.”

“How bad is Redondo’s injury?” Böttcher asked.

“Ja, it doesn’t look good. ATK ... I’m sorry, that’s her initials ... Agniezka, our head physio, thinks its in the range of two to four weeks. Its a groin strain. I’m just glad Zuck stepped in and played as well as he did.”

“Is Redondo’s place in jeopardy?” Böttcher asked.

“Yes, if Zuck keeps playing as well as he did today.”

“Would you say something about Man of the Match Rene Klingenburg?” Friedel asked.

“Ja, what a performance. This kind of performance has been coming from him. He and Marlon Ritter are a great tandem. He has that magical ability to find ways to find open shooting lanes and his passing has been exemplary. My players just keep stepping up. Today it was Rene. Tuesday it was Muhammed Kiprit. If my key players keep stepping up like this we’ll get promoted.”

 

[Enrico Pucci]

Saturday, 28 August 2021

7:39pm

My phone began playing flamenco. That could only mean one thing.

"Esteban!" I exclaimed. "Buenos noches."

I had stumbled into Esteban's shop just after I took the Cadiz job back in 2013. He'd become my barber and good friend.

"How are you my friend," he said. "Great result tonight."

"Yes, it was. Lucky, but sometimes you get the luck."

"How is Gwen?"

"She's good. Busy. Had a big shoot in July, a two day shoot earlier this month and another big one coming up in September."

"And Matthew and Allison?"

"They keep me on my toes. They're good, too."

"I have a question I've just realized I need to ask..."

"Oh?" I said. "This should be interesting."

"... Yes. I've thinking about you taking this new job. And how its the most Enrico-est of Enrico things to do. Now I realize you're Italian-American but have you considered doing one of those geneology tests? And the reason I say this is because I have become convinced that you have Spanish blood in you. You love tilting at windmills. Cadiz, Wimbledon, Bologna and now Kaiserslautern. There is definitely some Don Quixote in you."

"Oh my lord, you are so funny," I exclaimed. "No, I haven't. And wouldn't it be interesting if you were right."

"I have my suspicions," he said.

I just chuckled some more.

"Oh, I think I found a barber."

"That's wonderful."

"And he's a Roten Teufel."

"Sorry?"

"Roten means red, teufel means devil. Its the mascot of the club and what the supporters call themselves."

"Ah!" Esteban said. "Now I understand. And he did good work?"

"You would be proud. Hey, I see the Amarillos Submarinos got their first win of the season."

"Yes, yes it was a sweet win. Espanyol are s***. Those away wins are rare and we need them if we're going to stay up."

"How are you feeling about it?"

"We will need luck," Esteban replied. "We will need to win some home matches. We will need to steal some away points. We will need somebody to collapse."

"We'll be coming down on our winter break," I said.

"Ah yes, the Germans are civilized, aren't they."

"Ha, yes. We're not sure when exactly. We've got nearly a month. 18 December until probably 8 January. Okay, that seems shorter now that I say it out loud."

"I will be ready for you, Gwen and the kids, my friend. And so will our glorious beaches."

"Ciao."

"Buenos noches."

Click.

 

[Enrico Pucci]

Sunday, 29 August 2021

8am

"Ahh," I said after I'd had my first sip of my espresso. "Good morning, you motherf***ing sunshines."

"F***," Jörg grunted. "You're like a junkie but for coffee."

"So inappropriate so early in the morning," Agnieszka added.

"Ja, you both have it pretty much right," I replied. "Let's get started?"

"I'm getting frustrated," Ulf said. I could see that he was pretty wound up. "We work on what runs to make, when to make them. We work on finishing. I don't know how many times they've heard me say it doesn't have to be beautiful, over the line is enough. They are just not finding the target when their opportunities arise. I know these are three Liga players, I keep reminding myself, but I'm just not seeing the improvements I want to see. That we need to see to win matches."

"Ja, I feel your pain Ulf," I said. I would often work with Ulf. "There has got to be a payoff at some point. At some point it will sink in. Its not like this is the first time we've coached wayward strikers."

"I keep telling myself that," Ulf said.

"The defense is alright, isn't it?" I asked Jörg. Then I asked Lorenzo in Italian. They looked at each other, they both nodded.

"Keine ball aufpassen," Lorenzo said. "Müssen halt."

"Ja, still working on ball watching," added Jörg.

"I guess the thing that really concerns me is that we've just gotten four points we don't deserve with last gasp goals," I said. "Now, I'm not about to reject gifts like this, but we need to ... I don't know ... I mean they're going to turn my hair gray early if they keep on like this. Anyone got anything they want to say?"

"I think our fitness levels are getting where they should be," Günther Kern the fitness coach said. "They can push all the way past ninety minutes now."

Everyone nodded.

"I'm concerned about our first touch in relation to our build up play," said Filip Trojan. "I keep seeing it let us down. Sometimes we lose possession in the build up, sometimes we can't make the best pass because of poor first touches."

"Yeah, I'm with you on that one," I agreed. "Let Jörg know if you need him to yell at them."

"Kenny Redondo is going to be out closer to a month," Agnieszka said. Several of us groaned. "Otherwise, I think my room will be full of sore players, nothing major. Julian Neuhues, Rene Klingenburg, and Jean Zimmmer could probably use a day off training tomorrow. I think they're close to their limits. Send them in to me first thing tomorrow for massage and then Günther can have them do a 5K slow jog just to loosen them up. Then all three of them get into the cryo-tubs."

We all nodded.

"I guess I'm up next then," Florian said. "Our next opponents Magdeburg sit ninth. They've scored nine and conceded eight. They play a four-three-three with a holding midfielder and wingers. They work hard. They create a lot of chances. We are going to have to watch their wingers closely. They just got spanked by Wiesbaden so they'll be wanting to play well at home. Their stadium sits just under thirty and they've been filling it pretty full. So its going to be loud. This is going to be a tough match."

 

[Enrico Pucci]

Wednesday, 1 September 2021

There were a number of players I wanted rid of. They hadn't impressed, weren't going to play and, most importantly, we were paying them money.

As the training session progressed, I kept feeling my phone vibrate. I'd check and it hadn't. This is what happens when you're totally mental and are awaiting news.

As I trudged off the training pitch, I wondered if most teams were like us and totally broke.

"Thomas," I said as I walked into his my Technical Director's office. "There isn't going to be any transfers out, are there."

"Chances are small," he replied. "The pandemic has puckered up everyone's wallet. Unless you're Bayern, of course."

My phone vibrated.

"Ha, its Dennis Friedel from Sport Buzzer," I said to Thomas. I answered. "Ciao, its Enrico."

"Good afternoon, Enrico. How are you?"

"I'm good. What's up?"

"Just wondering if we can expect any business from Kaiserslautern before the transfer window slams shut?"

"I doubt it. I mean, you never know but we don't have any money and I think everyone else is broke, too."

"So nobody has contacted you about any of your players?"

"You're my first call today as a matter of fact. And I'm standing in my Technical Director's office. He hasn't had any calls either."

"Well, thanks for your time."

"Ciao."

Click.

Thomas and I had lunch then I drove home.

I reviewed the scouting reports and watched videos suggested by the scouting team.

No calls. No emails.

I went for a walk. I had the same feeling you have when you suspect you're going to be stood up or when you wonder why a potential employer hasn't called to offer you the job.

I played with my kids. At least that was fun.

Gwen and I and the kids had a nice dinner. Allison only wore some of her dinner.

I put the kids to bed. Still no calls.

Around 10pm, I turned on the TV and watched the reports of all the Bundesliga, Premier League and La Liga transactions.

I finally went to bed around 11:45pm.

 

[Enrico Pucci]

Magdeburg was almost all the way to Berlin. We'd driven up the night before since it was an afternoon kickoff.

We coaches strolled along the Elbe after breakfast and toured the Cathedral. It was going to be hot.

MDCC-Arena was pretty full and loud. Also, the sun was bright and there wasn't even the slightest breeze in a cloudless sky.

My only change was Jan Hempel replaced the suspended Neal Gibs at left back.

The first half was dull. Hot and dull. After ten minutes in, I took off my jacket it was that hot.

The air conditioning in the team room felt really great after baking in the sun. The players looked overheated and tired. ATK was putting iced towels on everybody's necks.

The same continued into the second half.

In the 58th minute, Hempel picked up the ball to take a throw in. Osayamen Osawe jogged over to receive the throw. Hempel threw it to him and he tapped it back.

As Osawe took off running, Hempel passed to Marlon Ritter. Ritter slid a pass into the penalty box for Osaw to chase.

The pass was too strong and Osawe's angle wasn't so good.

Osawe glanced over his shoulder and saw that he had no options.

So he slammed a shot goalward from a pretty sharp angle.

It went in!

I think it went between the keeper's legs.

This woke Magdeburg up. They brought the ball into our end and kept us there.

In the 67th minute, Hempel couldn't be bothered to stay tight to their right winger. Their winger slid a pass towards the penalty spot. Julian Niehues, and Rene Klingenburg hadn't tracked the Magdeburg midfielders late run and he slid a pass into the far side netting.

"Jörg!" I yelled. "Get Winkler." I replaced Hempel with Alexander Winkler at left back. At least Winkler would try to defend.

Magdeburg pressed, but by the 75th minute, all the players were baked by the sun and the pace dropped to Sunday kickabout levels.