I7IDanny

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Quick foreword:

Two years ago, I started a story that gained a little bit of a cult following. Due to real life issues, it never continued past the first season, and the continuation of those issues plagued a reboot on last year's edition of the game, along with not really 'getting into' FM13. This story is based off a different save, however in the story canon, it is two years on from the events of The Prodigal Son.

"Can Newton shoulder the pressure?"

"Too early for Newton?"

"No job too big - Except United manager?"

"Second Season Syndrome strikes again."


Chapter 1,
3rd July, 2013:

The back pages were having a right go, running their 'expert' eyes over the past year. After claiming the Premier League in my debut season, even with the... personal battles I faced, expectations had been high for my second year in charge. 'The Next Busby', the back pages had screamed, emblazoned over me and the team lifting the 11/12 Premier League trophy.

Oh, how quickly things can change.

A collapse mid-season which left us crashed out of the Champions' League, out of both domestic cups before the quarter finals, and finding ourselves wallowing in mid-table brought up a number of questions about my ability of being the Manchester United manager. Carlos Fierro moved away to Spain in the January window, whilst Rodwell, N'Zonzi and Hamsik also had voiced their thoughts on the team's position. As much as I tried to convince them otherwise, that little group of players already had their minds set and heads turned by foreign moves.

Whilst we eventually reached the humbling final position of 4th place, narrowly grabbing Champions' League football for the next season, we finished a long way off the pace, just scraping past the post on the final day. Jack Rodwell left for Southampton, Marek Hamsik, often the hero in that first season left us for Inter Milan and Steven N'Zonzi didn't renew his contract, instead deciding to join up with Stoke City.

As I made my way back towards Carrington, my mind bubbled with the thoughts of how I was going to rebuild the team. Whilst the board gave me their backing, I knew that the axe was being sharpened, and I would have only really a season to save myself.
 
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Chapter 2,
3rd​ July, 2013:


Pulling through the now-familiar gates of Carrington, I made my way out towards the training pitch, the thoughts of rebuilding still fresh in my mind. My new assistant manager, former United striker Ruud Van Nistelrooy already had the players out on the field, going through warm-ups and the like. Alan Thompson had left this summer, taking the management job at St. Mirren up in Scotland, so I had acted quickly to bring in his replacement.

Another new appointment, in the boardroom however, was Ed Woodward as David Gill’s replacement. David had taken a position with UEFA, whilst I now had to work with Woodward with regards to transfers – and this summer was looking like it was going to be a busy one. Ashley Young was going to be on his way out, the winger had proven to be a relative liability in the last season, whilst I knew PSG were sniffing around our Mexican striker Javier Hernandez.

I knew that, even with Robin Van Persie leading the line, I would need another striker… and one young forward had caught my eye. The winner of last season’s German U17 player of the year, Timo Werner, whilst I also had my hopes almost pinned on new signing Juan Mata to perform for us this year.

Only time would tell, however, as I picked up the phone in my office. There was a call to Germany to be made…
 
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Buzzing for more of this Danny boy!!!
 
Chapter 3,
16th​ July, 2013:

“Timo, Timo. Sign here on the line, and smile into the camera…”

I grinned myself, giving a wave as the press cameras snapped and flashed, and the young German striker nodding along to the instructions given to him by Ed Woodward. At only seventeen, he had his entire career ahead of him, and even at the price of ten million pounds it seemed like a potential bargain.

Whilst, however, the last winner of the German U17’s Player of the Year came into the club, Javier Hernandez was on his way out. We had accepted a ?20m bid from Paris-Saint German for the lad and with Timo coming in, it looked much less likely that he would get a regular place in my side. A pity, Javier had always shown promise when called upon, and never seemed to complain. But, ever since Carlos Fierro left the club, the lad had seemed a little down and less focused on his football. It just seemed like his time to go.

I turned my attentions for now, however, towards our preseason. I really needed the team to kick on this year, or it may be my last as the manager of the Red Devils…
 
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