[FM17] The Maple and the Eagle

[bigmattb28]

Scott was ready and the first one out of the tunnel at kick off. His first game as manager of a team in Wroclaw, he stood on the touchline, hoodie on over the blue shirt he was wearing against the cold, a nearly empty bottle of water in his hand.

The flood lights were flickering at Karpaty Krosno's ground Legionow, threatening to stay on or off, who knew. The air was thick with tension, two teams staring each other down in the tunnel, both wondering who would be the first to blink.

Staring line up 4-4-2:

GK: Sobczak (making Sleza debut)

RB: Siodowy (making Sleza debut)

LB: Kucharcyz

CD: Radler (captain)

CD: Niewiadomski

RM: Molski

LM: Kluzek

CDM: Mroz (making Sleza debut)

CDM: Kwiek

CF: Jakobczyk

CF: Antkowiak (making Sleza debut)

Bench - Domzal (GK), Latka, Wdowiak, Manolov, Mankowski, Michalski, Koftas

The game started slow, the kind of sluggish affair you’d expect from a promoted team against a team happy to just be in the league. Scott went with the tried and tested 4-4-2 with two holding midfielders. Making use of his new signings, Antkowiak leading the line, Mroz one of the two holding players and Siodowy expected to shore up the defence at right full back. Young Sobcazk was making his professional debut between the stocks as well. But neither side seemed to be wanting to make the first move or first mistake, both content to wait for an opening that didn’t come in the first forty five minutes.

A few tense words in the dressing from Scott. He was pleased to not have conceded but frustrated at his teams effort to create anything. Antkowiak and Jakobczyk having a combined eleven touches in the first half. Not good enough. He told the players that opportunities don’t wait forever.

The second half started much like the first, tense, slow and laboured, but the dam finally broke. Seventythree minutes on the clock, Jakobczyk, the man with a strikers instinct, found a pocket of space just inside the area and lashed the ball into the net. One nil, deadlock broken and the relief was almost tangible.

Then, like a fighter that smelled blood, he struck again right from the kick off. Karpaty barely had time to pick themselves up from the first goal before they were staring at a two goal deficit. Pressing right from the restart Jakobczyk caught the loose ball as it was cleared, hit it first time and it clipped the defenders heel, wrong footing the keeper and crossed the goal line. The scoreboard read Karpaty Krosno 0 - 2 Ślęza Wroclaw.

Just over five minutes later it was game over and Jakobczyk had sealed his hat trick from the penalty spot, hammering the final nail into Karpaty’s coffin. The home side was finished and any sense of fight had drained from them, leaving only tired legs and vacant stares.

The final twist of the knife came from Kluzez as Sleza’s fourth goal came with three minutes left in the game, a final exclamation point on a brutal final twenty minutes from the away team.

At the final whistle Scott shook hands with the Karpaty manager and coaching staff, not giving off any emotion and displaying professionalism throughout. His players however embraced the moment and celebrated the win on the pitch. First game and first win. A statement from the promoted team that they won’t go down without a fight, but Scott knew better than to get comfortable.

 

[bigmattb28]

The second game for Scott came round fast, a home debut, a chance to make Ślęza Wroclaw believe. The rain earlier in the week had stopped but it made the pitch a sleak battlefield, but the Sleza boys came out swinging like they had unfinished business. Puszcza were the visitors in game two of the league.

Three minutes in and Jakobczyk picked up where he left off against Karpaty. A perfect ball to feet from Kwiek in the middle, Jakobczyk took a touch with his right, then in one quick motion turned one way, took the ball with him and lashed it with his left and the home crowd erupted as the ball thundered past the keeper

And just like the Karpaty game the message was simple, press and press hard, which Ślęza did.

Even before Puszcza had time to regroup from the opener, Jakobczyk found his strike partner and new signing Antkowiak in box with a lifted pass. Antkowiak headed the ball into the net despite the keepers effort. Forsr minutes on the clock and Ślęza were in the drivers seat

Puszcza tried to claw their way back, but frustration boiled over. Sowinksi let the frustration get the better of him as he lunged in with feet high in a reckless challenge that had no place in any level of football. A straight red and no one, least of all Sowinksi, could have any complaints

Scott barely reacted, just muttered something under his breath and carried on coaching the game, which was as good as done thirty minutes in.

Ślęza didn’t push for more, they didn’t need to. They let Puszcza have a lot with the ball, daring the ten men to attack and leave themselves vulnerable, but they barely threatened the Ślęza goal. Two goals, three points, and a clean sheet. Job done.

As the final whistle blew, Scott allowed himself the smallest of smiles and a raised hand to the fans. Two games, six points, no goals conceded. It was a start. But seasons aren’t won in August.

There were still storms on the horizon.

– – – – --​

The day after the Puszcza win Scott had sat in his office, jubilant after two wins to start the season. The door opened without a knock, Marcin Lachowski never knocked, and he walked in, shut the door behind him and sat down. The look on his face told Scott it wouldn’t be good news he was bringing

‘Górnik Łęczna put in a bid for Korytek’ Marcin said, straight to the point. ‘His agent’s demanding we accept’

Scott didn’t react to the news, he seemed to be expecting this ‘the kids got a lot to prove’ he said ‘we aren’t in a position to gamble on potential’ Marcin just nodded, waiting for the boss to advise what he should. Scott then said ‘funny, a bigger team comes knocking and suddenly he’s got itchy feet’

Marcin shrugged, he’d seen it enough times in his playing career ‘he’s young, stupid and the agent will be telling him that he’s bigger than this place. We both know he’s not ready for that move, but it’s not our problem now’

Scott considered it for a moment then said ‘you already accepted the offer?’

‘Yeah’ Marcin said ‘no point keeping a kid that doesn’t want to be here, and I doubt he’ll play any more games there than he would here this season anyway. Plus I’ve got his replacement lined up already’

‘Already?’ Scott said, dismissing the comment at Korytek’s playing time

‘Alain Ngamayama’ Marcin said and before he could continue Scott said ‘The Poznan captain?’

‘The very same. He’s left now, they didn’t renew his contract but he’d been training with them as a gesture of goodwill. He’s got the experience we could do with, leadership and built like a brick wall. Exactly what we need’

Scott thought it over, rolling the name in his head. Ngamayama wasn’t some kid with dreams bigger than his boots, he was a seasoned pro and a man who’d seen some real battles. Korytek might have potential, but potential didn't win relegation battles. Experience did. ‘Works for me, get it done’

Marcin gave him a knowing smile and said ‘I already did’

With a chuckle Scott said ‘you don’t waste any time do you’

‘Neither do you’ Marcin said, then got up and said ‘and that’s why we work well together’

As the door clicked shut behind him, Scott leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. One untried and untested kid out, a real soldier in. Maybe they were actually building something here.

 

[bigmattb28]

Chapter 13​

​

The bus ride from Wroclaw to Bytom was quiet. Scott Lańkowski sat at the front on his own, watching out the window the grey sky and landscape roll past, his Red Bull can now empty. He’d been to plenty of stadiums in his time, both in Poland and his native Canada, but returning to this one was different. This was Bytom. The place where he’d fought for survival, where he’d kept a sinking ship afloat against all the odds. And the place that had let him walk away without more than a handshake and a thank you when the impossible job was done.

Ślęza Wrocław were in fifth after fifteen games, better than most had expected. Seven wins in there to go with three draws and five defeats, an impressive start for the promoted team, but nothing was guaranteed in this or any league. Polonia Bytom were sitting in eleventh, struggling for form, the weight of financial trouble pressing down on them like a debt collector at the front door. A big chunk of the team Scott had at Bytom had gone, a few jumping ship to join him in Wroclaw would be there with him for this game. But the league positions would mean nothing in the game, this would be more than just three points.

The bus rolled up outside the stadium, the old steel skeleton of Bytoms ground looming over them, weathered by time and neglect. Scott was the first to step off, the air thick with coal dust and memories. Then something he hadn’t expected, the applause. ‘Dzięki Scott’ - ‘Thanks Scott’ one of them said ‘ you saved this club when no one else would’

Scott smiled and shook more hands as he made his way into the stadium. He wasn’t expecting a warm welcome back, but something about this had caught him off guard. He gave another few small waves and handshakes as he entered the doorway.

Inside the lounge on the way to the locker rooms he ran into a familiar face, Jakub, the Polonia Bytom chairman, that said he wouldn’t be renewing Scotts contract despite achieving the impossible. The man that had decided Scott wasn’t worth keeping around. He still wore the same ill fitting suit and same wary expression.

‘Scott’ Jakub said offering a hand. Scott took it but didn’t squeeze any harder than he had to ‘Jakub’ he said with a nod

‘Good to see you back’ Jakub replied, his voice a little too smooth, the words a little too rehearsed ‘you did well for us, and you’re doing well now as I expected’

‘Yeah?’ Scott said ‘funny, it didn’t seem like that when you let me walk’

Jakub laughed awkwardly shifting on his feet ‘you know how it is Scott. Money is tight, I offered you a deal that I honoured. We have to make difficult choices’

‘Hows that working out for you?’ Scott said

‘We’re getting by’ Jakub said quickly

Scott smirked as he opened the door ‘sure you are’ he said and walked on. There was northing left to say.

In the away locker room Scott stood in front of this players, trying to push the nerves down and keep his head clear. He didn’t know if it was the welcome from the fans, the sight of the Bytom badge in the tunnels, seeing Jakub or the memory of those cold nights scraping points together in the quest for survival, but something had him on edge. And he needed to make sure it didn’t spread to his players

He cleared his throat ‘this isn’t about me’ he said, voice steady ‘it’s not about the past, it’s about today and today only. It’s about getting three points against a team that needs them just as bad as we do. You stick to the plan, fight for every ball and play like we deserve to be in the top half, not scraping at the bottom of the table. That’s all I want from you today’

The players nodded, some more focussed than others. He could feel the tension in the room, the unspoke awareness that this game wasn’t like the others preceding it. He needed the players to forget that. He just hoped he could forget it himself.

As the referee knocked on both doors and told them it was time to head out to the pitch, the voice echoed down the corridor through the cold Bytom air, Scott took a last look at his team sheet, nodded to Peter Bastista and was the first to leave the dressing room and first out to the touchline.

The home fans clapped as he made his way to the away dugout, the first time he’d done that in this stadium. No more thinking. No more remembering, just this game.

 

[bigmattb28]

Chapter 14​

The first half would be best described as a slugfest. No finesse, no poetry, nothing technical, just bodies colliding, heads thumping, studs raking up the turf at every turn and the refs whistle ringing out regularly like a judges gavel. Bytom came in hard, reckless as if they were trying to make Scott pay for ever walking out on them. Like he had a choice. Wozniak, Trabka, Ryłukowski, Skrzypiński hammering that point home. One by one each of their names went into the referees book after either careless fouls or angry points being made, whichever way you looked at it. Ślęza weren’t innocent either. Former Bytom man and unsung hero of last season Mroz was the first to be booked in the game and Molski had picked up a yellow too, being dragged into the chaos whether he wanted to be or not.

The stats at the half told one story; four shots on goal for each team, but reality told another story; that Bytom were only ones testing Sobczak in goal and Ślęza hadn’t found any rhythm in the game, other than to keep ten men in play.

Scott closed the locker room behind behind, the sound echoing off the concrete walls. He paced in front of his player, eyes darting from face to face. He could see the tension in their shoulders, and the fire in their eyes. They were happy to fight for the boss, for the team, but there is a difference in fighting smart and fighting stupid.

‘The ref is handing out yellows like they’re free samples’ Scott growled ‘you so much as blink aggressively near one of their guys and he’ll book you for it. We don’t want to play scared, let’s play smart. They wanna drag us back into a war? Fine, but do not lose your heads. We hit em’ where it hurts when we bomb forward, throw everything you have in the attack, but only if the option is there. Keep your heads, and wait for the right moment’

Scott’s speech had the desired effect, the players nodded, some gritted teeth and rolled their necks. Mroz was the first to stand and declared ‘this war is far from over!’ and marched back on to the pitch

Ślęza came out sharper, quicker and more determined, but then disaster struck.

Manolov, the hot prospect, was given his chance at left full back due to Latka being out. What the **** was he thinking? The ball was there to be won, sure,but not like that. He flew in, both studs high, reckless, wild and the ref wasted no time. Even before Manolov got back up the ref’s hand was in the air. Straight red.

Scott snapped, throwing his water bottle to the ground before he even knew he’d thrown it. He stormed down the touchline to where Manolov was walking off the pitch ‘You stupid son….’ he cut himself off, seething. He could see the forlorn look on the young full backs face, distraught, upset and anger mixed into one. Ten men, in a game already on a knife edge? That could’ve, and should’ve been the end of them.

But football is a funny game isn’t it.

Bytom lined up the free kick deep in the Sleza half, two men standing over it, area packed with bodies. The ball came inswinging towards the mass of bodies. The ball hit the head of a Bytom player towards the goal, but Radler, the Ślęza captain rose highest and headed it away to Niewiadomski who found Mankowski out on the Ślęza right, and suddenly the counter attack was on.

Mankowski played the ball over the top to Jakobczyk who had space and darted down the right to the byline. By the time he’d got to the edge of the box two Bytom players had recovered, closed him down but the Sleza forward knew what to do.

His pass into the box was perfect. The keeper stood helplessly as he was wide open when Kluzek came rushing in, unmarked to tap in the far corner. A goal out of nothing. Bytoms fans fell silent. Scott allowed himself a smirk.

Bytom weren’t finished after conceding the opening goal, and they threw everything and everyone forward looking for the equalizer against the ten men. But the more they pushed the more they left themselves exposed at the back, a tale as old as time itself. But Ślęza? They were content to wait, and they smelled blood

Another counter attack from another long looping ball into the box, a blur of white and red surging forward as Bytom recovered with ease due to the extra man, but the extra man cost them on this occasion. Trabka brought the advancing Kluzek down just outside the box and was lucky not to see another yellow.

As the protests by the Bytom players continued the experienced Ngamayama stepped up to the ball, cool, calm and ruthless, he wasn’t waiting for anything.

A quick glance and his decision was made in a heartbeat. The defence, still complaining to the ref and the keeper trying in vain to sort his wall out, was caught with his pants around his ankles. Ngamayama hit the ball as sweet as he’s ever hit a dead ball in his whole career and both teams watched as it sailed toward goal, all watched as the Bytom keeper tried and failed to stop it flying into the net.

Two nil to Sleza against the odds.

Scott had to laugh, not a loud one but just enough to be heard by anyone standing near him, and bitter enough that he felt bad about it. Bytom thought they had the game under control, the equaliser was sure to come before long, the script was written for them. But the new Ślęza signing had just burned that script to ash.

Then Bytom’s frustration boiled over. Jonkisz, their own hot prospect, lunged in like a madman. His challenge was worse by far than Manolovs so the ref had no hesitation in showing him the red card. Ten v ten, five plus added time to go

Scott just shook his head. Two young players let themselves down in the game, and surely Bytom were done. There wasn’t enough fight in them when they had a man advantage and even less now the sides were equal. And Ślęza weren’t done punishing Scotts old team. One last attack two minutes after the red, one last nail in the coffin.

A corner came in from the right, swinging perfectly which found Kluzek, he controlled the ball and then found Ngamayama free in the box, his low shot just with enough power to creep over the line. Three nil, game, set and match to Ślęza

As the final whistle went Scott stood with his hands in his pockets watching as the players shook hands and made their way off the pitch. The Bytom fans who had applauded him before kick off were quiet now. Their club and the team had been humiliated by the man their chairman let walk away.

He turned and caught Jakubs eye in the stands. The Bytom chairman's face was pale, his lips tight. Scott just nodded, and walked down the tunnel. No words were needed, the scoreboard spoke volumes.

 

[bigmattb28]

Football News Round-Up – January 2018​

​

The Premier League witnessed it’s first two managerial casualties of the 17/18 season, both coming in January. Mauricio Pochettino was sacked by Tottenham Hotspur after the club dropped to tenth in the league following some poor results, most notably losing away at Ipswich Town in the FA Cup. His replacement? Newcastle manager Rafa Benitez, who had guided them back to the Premier League and currently sat seventh. Rifts between Benitez and Newcastle owner Mike Ashley have resulted in Benitez heading to London. Benitez confirming to the press of Ashley's interference in first team affairs, plus the ongoing takeover talk being too much of a distraction for the Spaniard.

Rafa’s first match at Tottenham let him know the state of his new squad, as they lined up against the the team he left. Expecting to exploit known weaknesses in the Newcastle ranks proved unsuccessful as Newcastle put Spurs to the sword in a 4-1 drubbing where the away team didn’t break much of a sweat. 2 goals and 2 assists for Monaco’s on loan wonderkid Kylian Mbappe doing the damage for Newcastle against the lacklustre Spurs. In the stands watching was none other than Gus Hiddink, who has agreed a deal as interim manager of Newcastle for the remainder of the season. Ongoing talks regarding Mike Ashley’s sale of the club are apparently on again, after being off again and on again multiple times within the last six months.

The other manager to be relieved of his duties was Liverpool manager Jürgen Klopp, who was given his P45 after a disappointing run, culminating in a 3-0 home loss to Manchester United. The club had already eyed up Klopps replacement as Marcelino, the former Valencia manager had been installed two days later. The tactician swiftly started sorting his squad out as he sold winger Coutinho, a paltry two assists and zero goals in the league this season, to Barcelona for €33 million, a surprisingly high amount for a player that hadn’t performed at all this term. Marcelino then sent 22 million of that fee to Stoke for the services of Marko Arnautovic.

Some would argue he’s a downgrade on Coutinho, but in the Stoke side that was sitting in sixth at the time of the transfer, Arnautovic had scored 10 Premier League goals and laid on a further 11 for his team mates.

Arsenal also made a pricey transfer, sealing the deal for Sporting Lisbon’s Adrien Silva for €35 million. Silva, capped plenty of times by Portugal is hoping to continue Arsenal’s push for the Premeir League title they came within 1 point of winning last season.

Paris Saint-Germain made headlines themselves, with the €40 million signing of Polish midfielder Karol Linetty from Sampdoria. With the transfer Linetty becomes the most expensive Polish footballer in history and the price tag has divided opinions. In general the football media suggest that PSG have overpaid for the 22 year old midfielder. Whereas pundits in Poland are all in agreement that PSG have underpaid for the player and the Parisian team have got themselves a bargain for one of Polands brightest talents.

A year after leaving Roma, Danielle De Rossi has become a cult hero at Boca Juniors. Having narrowly missed out on the Primera División by just 1 point last season, the Italian cemented his legacy by scoring in the COPA Argentina final and assisting what turned out to be the winner from Darío Benedetto’s goal to secure the trophy

Now club captain, De Rossi has played every available competitive minute for Boca since joining a year ago. Boca are currently on an eight game unbeaten run and sit top of the league on 29 points. Boca also confirmed the signing of young defender Arturo Calabresi for €2 million, another shrewd transfer from AS Roma.

It wouldn’t be a transfer window without some big money madness from Asia, and this January was no exception.

Angelo Ogbonna left West Ham to sign for Jiangsu Guoxin Sainty FC for €30M.

Aymen Abdennour left sixth place in La Liga Valencia to play for Poalo Cannavaro at Quanjian for €28M.

Lisandro López left Portuguese league leaders Benfica for €26M to play for Huaxia.

Rafinha left Bundesliga leaders and current champions Bayern Munich to join Luis Felipe Scolari at Guangzhou Evergrande for €20M.

Saudia Arabia seem intent on getting in on the act and throwing money around like it’s going out of fashion. Hulk was tempted to leave China to sign for Al-Hilal for the sum of €22M. Emerson Santos made the move from Brazillian Serie A side Botafogo to go to Al-Ahli for €20M. Pablo Zabaleta wasn’t playing much for Premier League champions Manchester City so will see out his remaining years as a player at Al-Shabab, who paid €10M for the aging full back. Jonathan dos Santos swaps the yellow shirts of Villarreal for the yellow shirts of Al-Nassr for €19M.

The influence of these leagues in the transfer market is growing, and it remains to be seen whether these investments will pay off.

The groups for the 2018 FIFA World Cup have been drawn, with one notable shock name making it through. Honduras have qualified for the tournament finals and will compete in Group B alongside DR Congo, Ukraine, and Uruguay.

A quick look at some of the toughest and easiest groups:

Group A: England, USA, Russia (hosts), Ghana – A tough draw for Ghana, who will need to produce some big performances to progress.
Group C: Belgium, Mexico, Spain, Senegal – Senegal face a difficult challenge against three strong teams.
Group F: Argentina, Austria, Japan, Switzerland – The easiest group on paper, with Argentina, the tournament favourites, expected to cruise through.

-- -- -- -- --​

 

[bigmattb28]

Scott Lańkowski leaned against a railing at the Ślęza Wrocław training ground as his players were going through some drills laid on by his assistant mt Peter Bastista. Six months in charge, twenty league games played. Nine wins, six draws and five losses.

Not bad. Respectable even. Third place in the league!

Nobody had expected this. Not the fans, the local media or the board. Maybe not even Scott himself had expected it. Ślęza weren’t supposed to be in the promotion mix with over half the season gone, they were supposed to be down at the bottom of the league, scraping by and fighting to stay afloat. Yet here they were, defying the odds, standing toe to toe with the other teams with bigger budgets, bigger stadiums and bigger ambitions.

And leading the charge was Mikołaj Kotfas. The youngster on loan from Śląsk Wrocław, the team Scott supports nut hadn’t actually spoke to them, the deal was done befre Scott arrived. But that’s possibly why Scott trusted the kid so much. Maybe it’s why Koftas had repaid that trust with 10 league goals, running defences ragged and making every minute on the pitch count. He wasn’t just a loanee filling a gap, he was a big part of the teams success so far this season.

The job wasn’t done yet, not even close. The league was still tight and the fight far from over. Would they still be third come the end of the season? Probably not, but they’d set themselves up well enough that they weren’t looking over their shoulder at the relegation zone, like Scott and Bytom were last season.

And as well as Scott and Ślęza were doing, Polonia Bytom, the club that let him walk, the club that thought they could do better, were sinking like a stone

Ryszard Klusek, the man tasked with continuing to build on Scotts relegation success had found it harder, despite not having an eight point deduction to being the season with.

Under Klusek they’d won five games all season. 15th in the league and four points from safety, drowning and a club in freefall. The same club Scott dragged out of a black hole was staring relegation in the face, a relegation that is more likely than it was last season, without a points deduction. As for Klusek, he’s been chewed up and spat out, like he was never there at all.

Scott had been around football long enough to know how this game worked. There was no sympathy, no second chances. You either survived or you were left behind. Jakub had made Bytoms choice, now they were paying the price.

Scott jogged down to the pitch to join in with training. Six months into life in his dads city of birth, Wroclaw, and it was starting to feel like home. There was still a long way to go yet, but as far as he was concerned, he and Ślęza weren’t done surprising people yet.

 

[bigmattb28]

Chapter 15​

Scott Lańkowski was sat back in his office, fingers tapping the table, deep in concentration. A storm was brewing outside, fat drops of rain tapping against the window, but inside a real storm sat across from him, his assistant, and most trusted confidant Peter Bastista.

Peter leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his expression tight. ‘Scotty, we both know the player Manolov is, he’s a firecracker with a short fuse. Seven yellows, two reds, in eleven games. ELEVEN! How many more before he costs us something we can’t afford?’

Scott sighed rubbing his temple, he knew the numbers, he knew the risk was part of the job. You can’t just throw a diamond away because it’s cut your finger. ‘I know, I hear you Pete, I really do’ Scott said, voice even, unsure maybe ‘but the kids got something. He’s in the first team and does well at…’

Peter cut him off ‘when his head is in the game, yes he does, but he’s not…’ Scotts turn to cut Peter off

‘Don’t do that, you know I hate it. He’s got a lot of good things going for him, he’s quick, determined and he’s fearless and never gives up. All we need to do is channel that energy, we need to get him to channel that fire and passion instead of burning himself with it, he could become a top player’

‘Or a walking suspension’ Peter said

Scott just sighed and shook his head and looked down at the bid on the screen of his laptop. Henning Berg, Premier League winner and current Videoton FC manager and reigning Hungarian league winners. A real club, a big one, a real offer. They clearly saw what Scott saw, and they weren’t the only ones.

Marcin Lachowski, the director of football, had knocked on his door an hour ago, a smirk on his face and his phone in his hand. Jagiellonia Białystok and Cracovia Krakow had joined the race. All three clubs had tabled offers north of €42,000, all of it will be pure profit.

Peter broke the silence by saying ‘if we sell him now, we reinvest the money. Kamil has said all funds raised we keep and we get someone reliable, someone who won’t get sent off for trying to break an opponents ankles who looked at Manolov funny when we’re clinging onto a lead again’ he was referring to the red card Manolov had got against Olimpia Zambrow where Sleza had been leading 1-0 with twelve minutes to go. They hung on and won the game, just.

Scott clenched his jaw. Peter had a point, but something about it didn’t sit right. He’d given Manolov his start, like Jakub had given Scott his start. Scott had put a lot of faith in Manolov this season, and selling the youth player seemed easy, too easy.

‘You ever played alongside someone that you just knew was gonna be special Pete?’

Without batting an eyelid Peter replied ‘I know players who would get you sacked’

Scott smirked ‘yeah, so do I’ he leaned back and said ‘but I also know players who win you games. Ivan, he could go either way, and if we sell him now we’ll never find out which’

Peter shook his head, frustration flashing in his eyes ‘and if we keep him and he costs us points this season, what does he cost us next, promotion?’

Scott didn’t answer right away. He just stared at the rain streaking the glass, thinking. Was he holding on too tight? Was he seeing something that wasn’t even there to be seen? Was Peter playing it too safe? The Hungarian champs obviously see something, as do the two top division Polish teams. The tension sat heavy between them, with neither wanting to be the first to budge.

But finally, it was Scott who buckled and said ‘we’ve got three bids and one decision to make. It’s not about the money is it, we’re getting a decent chunk of pure profit, it’s what the best move for him is’

‘Irrelevant. We accept all three, and it’s upto him and his agent’ Peter said before adding ‘it’s the right call Scott’

Scott just thought, was it? Manolov is raw, reckless, but he had something. Something that can’t be coached, only tamed. Scott could see the fire in Manolovs eye every time he laced his boots up even just in training. You don’t find that in every player. But fire burns and Manolov had already left some scars in the form of seven yellows and two reds.

Marcin Lachowski came into the room, calm and composed as always ‘Jagiellonia, Cracovia, Videoton. All offering over fortytwo thousand. That’s good business for a kid we didn’t pay a penny for’

Scott frowned ‘and then what? We cash out and pray we find another one like him?’

‘We don’t need another like him, we need another left back that’s isn’t a liability’ Peter said

Marcin nodded ‘we take the money and find someone solid. I’ll get the scouts out looking before Manolov has even said his goodbyes’

Scott sighed, his gut told him to keep hold of the kid, to gamble on the potential. But his gut wasn’t what kept a team together. His gut wasn’t what stopped a reckless lunger from turning three points into zero. After a long moment he said ‘fine, accept all three bids. I don’t think he’s ready for top division football yet, but that’s not our concern is it’

Marcin nodded and said ‘I’ll make the calls’

Scott just hoped he’d made the right decision to accept the bids.

The next day as he arrived at the training ground, Marcin approached Scott and said ‘it’s done. The kids agreed the deal with Henning Berg in Hungary. Forty two thousand in full, no clauses all up front’

Scott didn’t say anything at first, just let the words settle. Forty two thousand. On paper it was a good deal, a great deal even for a team in the third division. Selling an unpolished kid for that kind of money in this league most teams would bite your hand off for it.

Scott said to Marcin ‘did he seem, I don’t know, nervous, hesitant in any way?

‘Hard to tell’ Marcin started ‘it was the agent that did most of the talking. Didn’t seem too upset that he was leaving us’

Scott just laughed. Agents, as always.

Ivan Manolov didn’t seem the sentimental type. He played the game the same way he trained, reckless, full throttle and no brakes. Maybe Hungary was the right move for him, maybe it wans’t, but it wasn’t Scotts problem anymore.

Marcin borke the silence by saying he’d got the scouts out looking for a replacement. Scott nodded, but it felt hollow. This kid has potential, real unfiltered raw potential. He coudld’ve been something here. But ‘could’ve’ doesn’t win games. ‘Could’ve’ gets you sacked.

He carried on walking towards the training ground and had remembered chewing Manolov out for a reckless challenge only two days ago. He shook his head and carried on walking

The kid was gone, time to move on.

 

[bigmattb28]

Chapter 16​

Scott had just got home when his phone started vibrating, an unknown caller. He was sceptiacal about answering unknown numbers, but he answered anyway
‘Scott, my name is Krzysztof Holub, I’m sure you know who I am’

For a single moment the world outside faded. The low hum of the radiator, the distant sound of cars on the road and slow dripping rain, all of it melted into the background. Krzysztof Holub. The chairman of Śląsk Wrocław. The club Scott had love for as long as he can remember.

His heart kicked up a beat, was this it? Was this the call? The call he’d dreamed about for a long time.

He’d been doing well at Ślęza. Overachieving all things considered. Third in the league at the winter break, with a team built on smart signings and shrewd loaned in players. He’d beaten expectations, just like he had in Bytom last season. Maybe someone at Śląsk had noticed. Maybe they were looking for fresh blood.

His hand was steady as he held the phone to his ear, gut twisting with something between excitement and nerves.

Krzysztof’s voice came again, smooth and professional ‘hows life down the road at Ślęza?’

Scott clezred his throat, trying to play it cool and calm ‘you know, can’t complain much, we’re doing okay’

‘You are that is true. Been keeping an eye on your progress, impressive stuff I must say’

Scott felt his pulse quicken. Here it comes, this is it!

Then Krzysztof continued ‘I wanted to talk to you about Adrian Łyszczarz’

Scott blinked ‘Łyszczarz?’

‘Yes, he needs games, minutes on the pitch, and we think you would be a good fit for him. A short term loan until the end of the season’

Scott felt something in him deflate, just a little. He kept his face blank even though Krzysztof couldn’t see him. Of course it wasn’t a job offer, it was a favour.

Scott let out a slow breath rubbing his temple. ‘Look, I appreciate the call, I really do, but I’ve got my midfield sorted. Mańkowski has come in and been solid, Kluzek is delivering and the teams settled. I can’t promise Łyszczarz any game time that he needs’

Krzysztof was silent a moment, then said ‘you sure? He’s a talent Scott, gonna really be something’

Scott chuckled, just a hint of bitterness in there ‘I don't doubt that, but talent doesn’t do much if it’s sitting on my bench’

Krzysztof then said ‘I get it, just thought I’d ask’

Scott didn't know what else to say so just said ‘okay, thanks, I appreciate it, listen if anything changes you’ll be the first to know’

Krzysztof chuckled and said ‘I’ll hold you to that’

The call ended there and Scott stood and stared at his phone for a long moment before putting it down. For a few brief seconds he’d let himself dream, the chance to manage Śląsk Wroclaw.

But reality had a way of reminding you exactly where you stood. Maybe someday, but that day was not today.

 

[bigmattb28]

Chapter 17​

The winter air in Wroclaw had bit, the kind that crept under you clothes and sitteled in tour bones. Inside the office the radiator rattled like an old drunk telling people stories they didn’t want to hear.

Scott was sat behind his desk, arms cross with eyes flickering between Peter Bastista and Marcin Lachowski. There was holes to fill. Manolov, the young aggressive upstart, was gone whether Scott liked it or not. With him leaving they needed cover at left full back. And between the sticks? Sobczak, on loan from Śląsk had been doing okay, but he’s got a mistake a game in him at his young age, and he’s been injured, meaning the team had been scrambling and using and even more untested youth player for two games.

Marcin, the professional pragmatist, tapped a folder on the desk ‘Aaron Kircher. Austrian. Solid, experienced, knows his role. More importantly, he’s fine playing second fiddle to Latka’

Scott picked up the folder, flipping through the pages. Kircher was nothing flashy, certainly not the fire cracker Manolov is, but he’s a steady hand and reliable. He’s a man that knew he wouldn’t be starting every week and wouldn’t throw a tantrum about it

Scott then said ‘he’s not Ivan’

Peter smirked ‘that’s a good thing’

Scott and Peter continuingly disagreed on the sale of Manaolov. The young full back is a live wire, Scott adamant that his passion just needed channeling, Peter saying it would cost them big. Even as a full back Manolov could be a game changer one game, but then a red card waiting to happen the next. Sleza didn’t need that, not now.

‘And the keeper?’ Scott sid putting Kirchers file to the side

Marcin slid another folder across the desk ‘Seb Gessl, young, another Austrian, also available on a free. He’s hungry, determined and ready to fight for his place in the team’

Scott drummed his finges on the wood. He liked it, both signings made sense and Marcin and the scout had managed to find both players relatively quickly.

‘What’s the catch?’ Scott asked

‘No catch, boss. Just good business’ Marcin replied

Scott nodded. The winter break was almost over and the remaining fourteen games of the season would start up again, third in the table and punching above their weight. Staying there meant making the right moves, not rolling the dice

He looked at Peter, nodded, then to Marcin and said ‘Agreed, get them both done’

Marcin smiled, stood up and took his phone out as he left the room

‘I hope they like the cold’ Peter said

Scott smiled and looked out the window, watching as the last dregs of daylight bled into the skyline. The cold was the least of their worries.

 

[bigmattb28]

Chapter 18​

​

Scott Lańkowski was sitting down on the touchline at the training ground when he’d got the text. He stared at the phone like it was a bad hand in a rigged poker game. Dawid Molski. 7 weeks minimum. Strained knee ligaments. He shook his head again and exhaled, not for the first time this morning and ran his hand over his forehead. Seven weeks wasn’t classed as a long term injury but it wasn’t nothing either. Molski had played in every game so far, rotating at right full back with Siodowy at times but being mostly used on the right wing. He was a machine too, fast, fearless and never gave up. The other players fed on that energy, and now he was out, and the team slightly weaker for it.

Peter Bastista walked over and sat down on the bench next to Scott and said ‘bad luck’ shaking his head as well

Scott let out a small chuckle and said ‘bad luck would be a cold shower in the Polish winter before training. This is just a ****** curse!’ the winter break had ended and football had come back to Sleza with a vengeance.

The first game saw Sleza extend their unbeaten run, stretching back from beating Scotts old team Polonia Bytom through the break. Radomiak Radom away ended in a 0-0 draw. It was the kind of match that felt like trudging through wet cement blindfolded. No spark, no magic no excitement from either team, just cold winds and tired legs. The draw flattered both teams really and the point gained they both had to pretend was worth something.

Then Polonia Warsaw came to Wroclaw. They scored an early goal to silence the Sleza fans but that didn’t stop Scotts team from trying. They knocked, punched, pounded and battered the Warsaw door but couldn’t find a way through. Chance after chance came, each one either going wide, over or right at the keeper. None ever good enough to go into the net.

Scott had sat in the dugout after the game, jaw clenched so tight it was on the verge of crackinfg. He hated games like that, the kind where you know your team deserved something, you were the better team but the footballing gods weren’t in the mood to be fair.

The response came in emphatic fashion. Blekitni at home and they didn’t know what hit him. Sleza played like a team that remembered what winning felt like, and looked like a top half team pushing for promotion. The final score of 6-2 was well earned. The main talking point was the hat trick from Wojciech Mroz, one of the players Scott relied on last year and one of his summer singings this season. Mroz is your typical defensive midfielder who’s main job is to break up attacks, not finish them.

Riding high from scoring six in the previous game the team carried that confidence into the next game. A 3-0 away win at Rybnik in which the team looked sharp and dangerous throughout. But football can be cruel, and sometimes it made no **** sense.

Stal Rzeszow away, they were humbled 3-0. The kind of match where the ball never bounces your way, where the opponent played like a pack of wolves and your team are the meat.

And now this. Scott wasn’t done processing the injury to Molski when Marcin Lachowski joined Scott and Peter. He wore the look of a man who had more bad news than he wanted to deliver. Scott didn’t even give him the chance to break the news ‘who’s hurt this time?

Marcin sighed ‘Sobczak’

‘How bad’ was Scotts reply

‘Three months. Optimistically’

Scott swore under his breath. That was the season, three months or so left. No sense keeping him around when he won’t play again ‘terminate the loan, I’ll go speak to him’

Marcin nodded and said ‘already in motion, I’ve told Slask about it’

Not expecting that to be the last of the bad news Scott said ‘is that it?

Marcin hesitated, which told Scott he already knew the answer ‘who else?

‘Antkowiak’ Marcin said ‘four weeks if we’re lucky’

Scott just closed his eyes. Antkowiak had been in and out of the team due to injury, but he’d done well when he’d played and had managed 6 goals and 3 assists in 18 appearances.

‘Of course. One of the three forwards is out, again’ he let out a dry sigh and said ‘anything else? Maybe a meteor heading for the training? He said with a laugh

Peter smirked and said ‘well if there is it’ll probably land on Koftas and Jakobczyk leaving us with no fit forwards’

Scott had to laigh at that. He knew the score, this was football afterall. One moment you’re flying high, the next you’re crawling on the floor. You didn’t get to complain, you just dealt with it. He got up and said ‘it is what it is, we move on’

Marcin and Peter both nodded and followed him into the changing rooms.

The season wasn’t going to wait for them.

 

[bigmattb28]

Chapter 19​

Blazej Radler had asked Scott for some time earlier in the day. Scott had known this conversation would be coming before long, he’d seen the signs.

The Sleza captain now in his third season at the club had seen it all. The old warhorse is 35 pushing 36 and had been in countless battles over the years as a player, and this season was no different. This last season he’d given everything to the badge, but as Scott suspected, the time had come.

‘Boss, I think I’m done’ Radlers voice came steady but clearly carrying the decision ‘June 18th is when I’ll officially hang my boots up’

Scott nodded and said he’d seen this coming, much to Radlers relief. The captain's legs still moved, but not like they used to. Experience can only carry you so far when your body starts to betray you

‘You’ve been a rock for this team, not just for me this season but the last couple of years you've been here’ Scott started then said ‘and you’ve earned a happy retirement, but…’ Scott said as Radler said ‘but what, Scott?

‘But, as you know Pete and Marcin came with me from Bytom, they were my most trusted players, they would walk through fire for me if I asked. My dad once said he gets the best results working with people he trusts, so with that said, how would you feel about staying? I’m still bitter about Manolov leaving, and I could’ve done with a firm voice from the youth team at that time, so how about if I kept you on as a coach for the youth team, the under 18’s?

Radler blinked, shock evident on his face ‘you’d trust me with the kids?’

Scott smiled ‘absolutely. You’ve trained with them already, they know you’re the club captain and look up to you anyway, so we might as well make it official’

Radler nodded and said ‘yeah, okay. I’d like that’

The handshake was firm like two men sealing a pact. One chapter closed, another opened. He’d officially start his new role at the end of the season, but Scott had him working with the youth team right away.

A day later Sleza would host Olimpia Grudziądz, who are riding high in third place, one above Sleza. Nobody thought either of these teams would be in the top half yet alone pushing for promotion, but here they both were.

Olimpia Grudziądz boasted the most prolific striker in the league. His 21 goals are what helped them to third place. That striker is Mateusz Broz, the same striker Scott had signed last season while in Bytom, and a reason they survived relegation. As with the other players at Bytom, Broz was allowed to leave due to mounting money worries.

Scott had made a point to himself to meet Broz in the tunnel before kick off, and when they met he held out a hand which Broz took with a smile

‘Scott, didn’t expect to see you up this end of the league’ he said with a laugh

‘Nah neither did we’ Scott replied, also with a chuckle

‘H*ll of a job you’re doing here, just like last season’

‘You too Matty, you’re on fire’

Broz was all business then as he said ‘don’t try and flatter me, I’m still here to score and do a job today’

Which he did, late on in the game. Too late for Scotts liking. Sleza had held a comfortable 3-1 lead heading into the last four minutes and were cruising. Until Broz had slotted a long range shot in the 87th minute, setting five minutes worth of added time of pure **** in the form of long looping balls into the Sleza box. They held on for a 3-2 win but it was anything but close

Scott exhaled at the final whistle as the players jogged off, knowing they dodged a bullet. Exhausted, but victorious. The unlikely promotion was still on. The table has shifted and Sleza and Olimipa have swapped places with three games left to go. Sleza now in third on 51 points and promotion wasn’t just an impossible dream, it was a real possibility.

Scott exhaled at the final whistle as the players jogged off, knowing they dodged a bullet. Exhausted, but victorious. The unlikely promotion was still on. The table has shifted and Sleza and Olimipa have swapped places with three games left to go. Sleza now in third on 51 points and promotion wasn’t just an impossible dream, it was a real possibility.

And up next? Polonia Bytom at home. Scott didn’t have much to say in the dressing room before the game. The players felt it. The weight of the match, the blossoming rivalry between the teams, the stakes.

Koftas laced his boots, muttering to himself, young eyes full of fire and burning with focus.

Latka, taking the captain's armband in place of Radler, was stretching in the corner with Mroz as they were discussing the game.

Jakobczyk, Siodowy, Gessl and the others turned as Radler, not in the squad but still club captain, stood up and asked for attention. He spoke, voice deep and steady cutting through the tension ‘we’ve come this far’ he started ‘we weren’t meant to be where we find ourselves. But here we are. This club was meant to be at the bottom of the table trying to stay in the division, yet we’ve got a **** of a chance of getting out of it at the other end’

Scott watched, arms crossed. He didn’t need to add anything. They were ready. Bytom were coming to Wroclaw, attempting to stay in the league.

Sleza was waiting.

 

[bigmattb28]

Chapter 20​

Scott Lańkowski stood on the touchline, eyes locked on the battlefield before him. Ślęza Wrocław. Polonia Bytom. Third versus seventeenth. Current versus former employers. A win for one meant a step closer to promotion. A win for the other meant one step closer to survival.

The stakes dripped like rain from the clouds above. From the first whistle it was war, just like in the reverse fixture earlier in the season.

Tackles flew in in like a bar brawl nobody wanted to break up. Studs raked against shin pads, shoulders crashed into ribs and elbows met jaws. Every time the whistle blew another body was picking itself up from the hard frozen turf. The ref had his yellow card and seemed reluctant to use it. The first few challenges he let go, but couldn’t bring himself to let the game flow. There was more stoppages than shots on goal in the first half.

Scott watched his current and previous team fight for every inch, Mroz against his old team battling in the middle, Koftas lurking for scraps up front with Ngamayama and Latka trying to hold the fort at the back. But something felt off.

Bytom, backs against the wall all season had played like a team with nothing to lose. Ślęza looked sharper, better and the more likely to score, but the goal wouldn’t come.

At the half Scott walked into the dressing room and closed the door behind him. The players were there already, sweaty, battered, bruised, breathing hard and still in the game

‘We’ve got forty five minutes to put this to bed’ Scott said, voice measured but tight with frustration. He looked at the group and said ‘keep playing like this and we will find that goal. Keep the ball on the ground, keep it moving and move it quick. Don’t force it, let the ball do the hard work and for the love of everything watch for them on the counter’

They nodded. They knew.

As the game kicked off for the second half it unraveled faster than Scott, or anyone associated with Ślęza could believe.

Ślęza had lost possession a couple of times since the restart, but in the fiftyfirst minute it was Mroz, usually composed on the ball that lost it in the middle. Bytom moved fast, and before anyone could close him down on the edge of the box Krakowczyk unleashed a rocket. Gessl dived and stretched, but not enough as the ball kissed the inside of the post as it went in. 1-0 to Bytom.

Scott shook his head. Fine, one goal, we can come back. But fate had other plans.

Four minutes later Ngamayama squared upto the man he was marking Mackowksi, who was fast and slippery. Too fast, and too slippery for the Ślęza man. One fient to the left as Ngamayama tried to show him on to his right, and the Bytom forward was gone. Ngamayama flailed, slipped and Mackowski cut inside and buried it low past Gessl. 2-0 to Bytom

Then came the hammer blow. Sixty three minutes on the clock. Latka misjudged the long ball over the top, got caught with the bounce and fluffed the clearance. It fell to Ceglarz as he pounced on the loose ball like a street thief. One touch to settle, another to calmly slot it past Gessl in the Ślęza goal. 3-0 to Bytom.

Silence. Stunned silence from the Ślęza fans. Scott turned away from the pitch running his hand over his face. Disaster. The fight was gone, the game was done. A late goal from a corner meant the game ended 3-1 to Bytom, but the goal meant nothing. Even before the whistle blew Scott was marching down the tunnel to the home dressing room.

The door slammed so hard it rattle on its hinges. The players sat in tense silence, exhausted and ashamed. They didn’t need a speech from the boss to know they’d let this one slip away. And Scott wasn’t the kind of manager to throw things across the room, he didn’t need to, his words hit harder than any flying bottle of water could.

‘What the he*l was that?!’ his voice cut through the air like a blade. No one spoke.

Scott turned, eyes blazing and pointed at Latka ‘that third goal? That’s on you. You had one job there, clear the f*cking ball! And you bottled it’

Latka shook his head, and as he tried to speak Scott held a hand up and said ‘don’t, just don’t I expect much better from you’

Then Scott turned to Ngamayama ‘and you, you call that defending? That kid made you look like an amatuer, you didn’t even try and stop him’

Ngamayama didn’t respond, he knew it wouldn’t do any good. Scott shook his head again, hands on his hips. He was furious, but more than that he was disappointed

‘We had a chance to put this season in our hands and you threw it away’ he glared at the, ‘I don’t care if Bytom are fighting for their lives, we should’ve buried them, we should've btoken them, we should’ve given them the loss that sent them down’

More silence, heavy suffocating silence. Then Scott sighed and said ‘it won’t kill our season, but if we play like that again in the next two games we’re not getting promoted’ and he turned to leave, but as he got to the door he stopped and said ‘sort yourselves out’

One loss wasn’t the end of the promotion challenge, not yet. There are two games to go and they can still get third and automatic promotion, but it would be tough. They’d need to win both games and hope the other teams above them drop points.

Scott wouldn’t let this slip, not after everything they’d built so far.

 

[bigmattb28]

Chapter 21​

Scott Lańkowski stood in the locker room, arms folded and scanning the determined faces of his players. Two games left of his maiden season as Ślęza Wrocław manager, the first was away at the recently crowned champions Raków Częstochowa.

This game was a fight for redemption following the home loss to Scotts former team Polonia Bytom. It ended in a 1-1 draw despite Ślęza taking the lead through Aleks Kwiek. The promotion charge was still on, if unlikely.

Ślęza had dropped to sixth with one game to play. 52 points. The scenario to get promoted was ridiculous. A long shot, the kind that never comes off. Ślęza had to win. Not just that, but Blekitni, Olimpia Grudziądz, and Widzew Łódź all had to lose for Ślęza to get promoted. The one game Ślęza had was against Olimpia Zambrów

Scott laid it out plain and simple ‘promotion was never on the cards, and now, with one last battle to go it’s not in our hands any more’ voice low and firm ‘we win today and all we can do is see what happens in the other games. No regrets, no half measures, no wishing we’d done more’

He looked around the room, Radler, the veteran lacing them up for the very last time as a player. Koftas, the young forward who had come on leaps and bounds. Ngamayama and Latka, two solid players that needed to put the Bytom game behind them.

‘Everything considered this season has been a miracle’ Scott continued ‘we were supposed to be in Zambrów’s place, clawing for survival. Instead we’re in the mix for promotion and I’m so proud of you all. And if this is our last game before we break for the summer, lets make sure we go out the right way'

Silence, but it was accompanied with determined nods.

It was time. The final game was here.

Olimpia Zambrów needed this just as much as Ślęza. They were fighting to stay in the league opposite Ślęza’s fighting to get promoted out of it.

The opening minutes of the game were a glorified street fight, hard tackles, scrappy passes and no rhythm to the game other than solid physicality. A team trying to survive versus a team chasing the impossible.

Then, young forward Olejniczak, playing up top alongside Koftas in place of the injured Antokiwak struck first. A ball over the top from Kluzek, the defender watching the man not the ball misjudged the bounce and Olejniczak, keeping his nerve cooly slotted it past the keeper. 1-0.

Scott clenched a fist. The dream was alive.

But Zambrów weren’t done. They pressed and pushed for an equaliser which didn’t come by the time half time came around. In the second half the tension rose from both sides, but it was Wojiciech Mroz that calmed Ślęza down. Another long ball found it’s mark and Mroz calmly guided the ball into the net. 2-0 and cruising.

Zambrów refused to die and kept pushing and fighting for an opening which eventually they got. Young striker Feliks drive and low shot found it’s way past Gessl in the Ślęza goal to give the home team some hope.

It would be for nought as Ślęza held on for a 2-1 victory.

The players celebrated but Scott and Peter Bastista held back, eyes locked on Marcin Lachowski who was looking at his phone. Waiting. Hoping. Then the shake of Lachowski’s head told them what they were waiting for.

Blekitni won. Olimpia Grudziądz won. Widzew Łódź won.

Ślęza finished fifth.

Scott stood in the locker room, hands on his hips. Fifth place had to be considered a **** of a season.

But still, just a little short. He turned to his team, taking them all in. Some looked disappointed, some exhausted, some just proud. He started by saying ‘we did everything we could today, nobody, not you or me, expected us to be here today. Nobody gave us a chance, and yet we almost pulled off the impossible’

He let that sink in.’Hold your heads high, this isn’t the end, trust me. This is just the beginning’

And as he stepped outside, breathing in the night air, he couldn’t help but smile.

Because he knew, next season, Ślęza Wrocław wouldn’t just be a surprise anymore.

They’d be contenders.

 

[bigmattb28]

Football news summer 2018​

The end of the 2017 / 18 Premier League season delivered some twists and turns that nobody could have predicted. Heading into the final fixture Chelsea look certain to win it, sitting in first place on 81 points, with second placed Manchester City 2 points behind on 79. City’s only path to back to back titles was a mirror image of last season. Last season they needed to win their game whilst a team from London (Arsenal last season, Chelsea this) needed to lose. The decisive matches saw Chelsea host Southampton at Stamford Bridge whilst Manchester City hosted an Everton side looking to avoid relegation.

Everton in 17th place had 30 points, the same as 18th placed Middlesbrough. All Everton needed to do was math the ‘Boro result. Hull would be hosting Middlesbrough. However these things are much easier said than done.

At the Bridge Chelsea struggled to break down the rigid Southampton defence. Claude Puel set up the Saints to play with a flat back 5 which stopped most of Chelseas attack. Southamtpon caught Chelsea on the break more than once and Charlie Austin tucked home early in the second half to give the Saints a credible 1-0 away win.

In stark contrast, at the Etihad Manchester City delivered a masterclass, thrashing Everton 4-0 to leapfrog Chelsea into first place and claiming the Premier League title for a second year running. In an unexpected turn Arsenal managed to sneak into second place on goal difference to end as runners up for the second year running. Adding to the surprises this season was Newcastle United who defied expectaionts. Coming off winning the Champiosnhip last season they finished an impressive fifth place ending the season under Gus Hiddink (after Rafa Benitez left for Spurs) and winning the FA Cup. Liverpool found themselves in unfamiliar waters as they finished eighth.

That 4-0 defeat for Everton effectively sent them down, as Middlesbrough secured their own safety by beating Hull 3-0. Everton join already relegated Derby County and West Ham in the drop.

Looking ahead the relegated trio of Everton, Derby and West Ham will be replaced with Championship winners Wolverhampton Wanderers and runners up Brighton and Hove Albion. Ipswich Town also secured their return to the Premier League by beating Cardiff in the play offs.

In Spain and La Liga Barcelona continued their dominant stranglehold on the league by amassing 103 points for the second season running. This win makes it 4 in a row for Luis Enriques men. Real Madrid finished second on 92 points. Their cross city rivals Athletico finish third on 81 and Villarreal, Sevilla and Valenica round out the top six.

In the Bundesliga, the race for the crown was as dramatic as ever. Bayern Munich emerged as champions, but only by a slim margin, with only three points sepertaing them from runners up Bayer Leverkusen. The remainder of the top six featured a mix of emerging and established sides RB Leipzig, Borussia Dortmund, Schalke and Koln.

In Italy Antonio Conte had an instant impact as he guided Juventus to the Serie A title in his first season, wresting the title away from last season winners Inter Milan. Napoli were runners up with Roma in third place. Both Milan sides (AC and Inter) ended up tied on 65 points occupying fifth and sixth, with AC being given fifth place due to a slightly better goal difference.

In France Monaco continued with their resurgence as they secured a second successive Ligue 1 crown. They finished on 95 points, edging out the mega bucks of PSG who finished on 91. Lyon, Marsielle, Caen and Nantes round out the top six. On the individual front in one of the feel good stories of the season, Jack Colback earned himself a spot in the team of the year. On a season long loan from Newcastle, he featured in every game (38 in the league, 3 in the cup) scoring 3 goals and providing 5 assists. This along with posting a very respectable average rating of 7.91.

In Monaco they signed Dusan Vlahovic who made a significant impace after signing in January transfer window. He netted 13 goals in just 17 appearances, providing a crucial factor in the title win for Monaco.

In Portugal an old name made the headlines. Federico Macheda, of Man Unted fame once upon a time, led the scoring charts by netting 18 league goals. His efforts were pivotal in propelling Sprtiong Lisbon to their first league title in 17 seasons. As per tradition, Benfica and Porto round out the top three with Braga, as usual, occupying fourth place.

 

[bigmattb28]

Summer 2018 transfer news​

The summer transfer window has already been a wild one in anticipation of the new footballing calendar, with teams in Saudi Arabia and China throwing money around, Bayern Munich flexing their financial muscle and relegated clubs undergoing dramatic overhauls. The first big transfers of the summer came from Saudi clubs, as the Middle East continues to lead the charge

Al-Hilal made the first stupid move of the summer, as Luuk De Jong swapped PSV Eindhoven for Saudi Arabia for €29 million. This was followed up with the signings of Roberto Rosales from Málaga (€12M), Emmanuel Mas from Trabzonspor (€9M), Marcelo Díaz from Celta Vigo (€8M) and Stefano Sturaro from Juventus (€13M)

Al-Ahli weren’t holding back either, as they spent €35 million in total to bring in Roman Zobnin, Jens Toornstra and Maicon.

China's money train rolled as Giovanni Moreno left Shanghai Greenland for Quanjian for €12M and Wellington Nem left Shakhtar for Jiangsu Guoxin-Sainty for €24M.

UAE clubs joined the party as Lekhwiya SC signed Dante from Nice for €5M and Cheick Tioté also signed from Beijing Beikong €6M. Not huge fees but big wages are being offered to join clubs in the UAE.

Bayern strengthened with some of the Bundesliga’s best players. Carlo Ancellotti managed to tempt RB Leipzig into selling Timo Werner for €38 million, Leon Goretzka from Schalke for €36 million and Djibril Sidibé joins from Monaco for €42 million. Bernd Leno swaps Bundesliga teams as he leaves Leverkusen for Dortmund for €34 million.

The biggest transfer of the summer saw Koke leave Atletico Madrid for Premier League champions Manchester City for €96 million. Atletico seem determined to be the Manchester based teams feeder club, as the Koke deal follows last summer's sale of Griezmann to Manchester United.

Some big transfers from the Premier League as expected. Wonderkid Malang Sarr leaves Nice for Southampton for €35 million, a huge fee for the Saints to pay. Iñaki Williams leaves Athletic Bilbao to join Marcelino at Liverpool for €22 million. Thomas Lemar leaves French champions Monaco for Chelsea for €58 million. Danilo leaves Bayern Munich to sign for Man United for €31 million. Son Heung-Min leaves Rafa Benitez at Spurs to sign for his former team Newcastle in a €22 million deal, he is the Toons marquee signing of the summer.

The off again on again takeover of Newcastle United continues to dominate the local news in the North East, however that doesn’t stop owner Mike Ashley convincing Gus Hiddink to sign a contract extension for 2 more years. The rumor is he will have a better chance of selling the club with a big name as the first team manager.

In Italy AC Milan sanctioned the sale of Donnarumma to PSG for €45 million, all of which is pure profit for the goalkeeper that rose through the Milan ranks.

Monaco look set to dominate Ligue 1 and the Champions League, as they sign Alvaro Morata from Real Madrid for €38 million. Another interesting transfer sees Lyon sign none other than Karim Benzema on loan for the season from Real Madrid. With Andrea Belotti scoring 37 goals last season for Real, Benzema was cast off and deemed surplus to requirements, only playing 11 times. A nostalgic return to his old club on loan is sure to relight the fire in the world class forward.

The fallout from relegation saw Everton and West Ham pretty much rebuild their first teams. The exodus from Everton saw Bolasie, Schneiderlin, Deulofeu, Galloway, Baines, Fernandez, Cleverley, Mori, Lennon, McGeady, Calvert-Lewin, Williams, Barkley, McCarthy, and Davies all leave, bringing in a total of €99 million. Aitor Karanka, sacked early on in the season by Middlesbrough is tasked with the rebuild and only invests €26 million back into the team. There are rumors of money troubles at the Merseyside based club. The big news from Goodison is that they somehow, despite interest from PSG, both Manchesters, Chelsea, Inter Milan and Napoli, managed to keep hold of Romelu Lukaku who is expected to score at least a goal a game in the second tier. Whether they can keep hold of him in the January transfer window remains to be seen.

West Ham in contrast shipped out the underperforming Antonio, Dos Santos, Reid, Garcia, Burke, Valencia, Otavio, Snodgrass, Masuaku, Pask, Fernandes to bring in €81 million.

Niko Kovac, who took over form Slaven Billic spent €45 million of that on Begovic, Ladeira, Giraudo, Kent, Wisdom, Armstrong, and Murphy. He managed to convince Noble, Cresswell, Oxford, Kouyaté, Shelvey, Ayew, and Lanzini to remain at the club.

 

[bigmattb28]

World Cup 2018​

The 2018 World Cup in Russia delivered everything you’d expect from the biggest competition in football, thrilling upsets, penalty shootouts and a country claiming yet another title, as Brazil made it six World Cups with the 2018 crown. The tournament also saw several big nations fall earlier than expected leading to some managerial changes in the aftermath.

Englands hope of ending their long wait for a World Cup came crashing down in the round of 16. After an unsurprising group stage in which they hung on for a 1-0 win against hosts Russia in the tournament opener, than stuttered 1-1 against the USA and then sealed their place in the next round with an unconvinving 1-0 win over Ghana,they faced Uruguay, where a disciplined performance from the South Americans saw them edge past England. A late goal from Edinson Cavani sent the Three Lions on their way.

One of the biggest upsets of the 2018 World Cup also came in the round of 16 when Colombia eliminated defending champions Germany, on penalties no less. After a tense battle Germany were leading 2-1 in extra time before conceding when Falcao headed in at the far post with seconds left on the clock, to send the game to penalties. Falcao stepped up and scored the decisive penalty to send Germany packing. The shock defeat also ended the reign of Joachim Löw’s reign as Germany manager.

The fairytale wa short lived for Colombia as Spain showed Germany how to do it as a hat trick from Diego Costa sent the South Americans home. Spain had looked like genuine contenders all the way through the tournament, winning every game right up until the final.

The biggest surprise of the tournament was undoubtedly Costa Rica. They defied all the odds and produced on of the biggest shocks in footballing history when they beat France 2-0 in the round of 16. This was then followed up with another victory over Mexico in an end to end game which they edged 3-2. Even against Brazil in the semi final they never looked out of place. Going down 2-1 to the eventual winners they equalised in the second half and never looked flustered. The fairytale run of Costa Rica ended but everyone associated with them can hold their heads high after an amazing run to the semi final.

Brazil had a solid tournament from start to finish, navigating their way past tough opposition before eventually lifting the trophy. The beat Spain 2-0 in the final to seal the sixth World Cup title.

As is often the case after a World Cup, several high profile managers paid the price for underwhelming performances. Gareth Southgate was the first to leave his position, confirming he stepped down shortly after the loss to Uruguay. Didier Deschamps was next to leave, getting sacked after that shocking loss to Costa Rica. Joachim Löw was dismissed after falling to Costa Rica. Julen Lopetegui was kept on by Spain after getting to the final.

Following that there was a managerial merry-Go-Round featuring these nations and club teams. The managers leaving after the World Cup had a knock on effect sparking a wave of high profile appointments.

Arsène Wenger left Arsenal after 22 years to become the new France manager, taking over from Didier Deschamps. Joachim Löw swapped international football for club management, replacing Wenger at Arsenal. Jürgen Klopp returned to Germany, taking over at Bayer Leverkusen. Roger Schmidt had left Leverkusen to become Germany’s new manager, tasked with rebuilding the national team.

And finally Claude Puel left Southampton to take charge of England, in a surprising appointment. No, no one else knows why either.

 

[bigmattb28]

The rain fell like a slow dirge over Wrocław as Scott Lańkowski was sitting in his cramped office. The dim light of the small lamp on the desk danced across crumpled papers and faded scout reports. Right now the weight of the season that has just finished pressed on him like a leaden coat, but his thoughts wandered back to a bitter chapter. Polonia Bytom.

He’d saved the from the abyss, fought tooth and nail, scraping, clawing and scratching their way from relegation despite the eight point deduction they’d been hit with. Yet Jaukb Snochowski, the chairman, the cold and calculating figure who’d unceremoniously told Scott where the door was, had let him go. He’ll remember the sneer from Jakub and the look in his eyes as he brushed off Scotts achievements like it was yesterdays news. Now after the final game of the season and seeing that Bytom had been relegated without a points deduction, a flicker of satisfaction had warmed in Scotts chest. But that wasn’t enough was it. Satisfaction is a counterfeit currency, the true redemption lay in proving that his success at Ślęza this season isn’t merely an echo of his past. Two teams he’d managed, both expected to go down. Both times he’d survived certain relegation.

Scott’s mind churned with a restless hunger for more. It wasn’t just the fire to avenge the wrongs of Bytom or the silent promise that one day he’d outshine the long shadow cast by his father, Piotr Lańkowski. Old man Lańkowski, a revered scout for the Polish national team as well as head scout for Toronto FC he’d always been the benchmark. ‘Don’t just be my son’ he’d said to Scott not longer after taking the Ślęza job, as if the weight of that legacy was a shackle around his neck. But now, every decision, every tactical change and every point gained or lost was a silent, defiant answer.

Across the room Scotts assistant manager Peter Bastista walked in and sat down. He’d brought some folders and emptied them onto the desk and shuffled some papers absentmindedly, unaware of the storm currently brewing in Scotts mind. They’d celebrated a successful season at Ślęza Wrocław, a top five finish when at the start of the season a bottom four finish was predicted. Yet the taste of triumph was tainted by an unmistakeable feeling that Scott, and Peter by association, still had something to prove. Something that wasn’t measured in points or dreams of promotion. It was a battle for identity, a fight to assert that he was more than just a guy that had rescued two clubs in his own unique and gritty way.

Scotts fingers drummed on the surface of the old desk as he recalled Jakubs dismissive tone, and the bitter promise he’d made to himself that day. The thought of that betrayal stung, a jagged sharp tooth still lodged in his memory. Now as he looked out of the rain streaked window at the city he now calls home, there was a flicker of doubt.

Beneath the anger and the drive the doubt crept in. Was it enough to prove his worth, to silence the echo of his fathers influence and his first employers scorn? He didn’t know, all he knew was that every training session, every hard fought match was another step toward defining himself on his own terms.

In the low murmur of the office his inner voice roiled like a restless sea. He needed to be more than a saviour, he needed to be a visionary. The thrill of saving teams from relegation was fleeting, but the real challenge lay in carving out his own legacy, one that wouldn’t be measured by the scars of that first betrayal, but by the bold moves of the man unafraid to walk his own path.

He leaned back, nodded to Peter, closed his eyes and let the quiet resolve creep in. The night dark was coming in and the streets beyond whispered of endless possibilities. Soon the new season would start up, and with it, the chance to show everyone, especially himself, that Scott Lańkowski was more than a footnote or only known as a one trick pony.

He would rise, again and again, until the world recognised that he wasn’t just Piotr Lańkowski junior. Scott would be a man forged in the grit and grind of the beautiful game, ready to claim his own place in the cold ledger of football

 

[bigmattb28]

Part 3 - Second season syndrome​

Chapter 22​

The rain was tapping a slow rhythm against the office window, a dull metronome to the conversation unfolding inside. Scott Lańkowski leaned back in the chair, eyes scanning the report he’d already read a number of times, the corners of the paper curling at the edges after being thumbed through over and over. Across from him was his trusty lieutenant Peter Bastista, sitting with arms crossed, expression flat but sharp. They’d been here a number of times throughout the season already, late night talks with tough decisions being made. The business of football wrapped in the illusion of control.

‘Koftas. I like him. Another year’s done then?’ Scott said, pushing the folder back toward the middle of the table

‘Yeah’ Peter then nodded ‘Kid’s got something about him hasn’t he’ Both are in agreement that the young forward will develop even more with another years first team football at the club ‘Double digits for us, he works hard and you know what, he always listens. Can’t argue with that’ Peter finished off saying

Scott sat thinking. Mikolaj Koftas had been one of their unexpected bright spots. A loaned from Śląsk, the team Scott supports, the kid had delivered when they needed him. The rumor was other teams in the i liga, the division above were also monitoring him, so the offer for another year's loan was put in early. Other clubs that could afford to buy Koftas outright, with bigger budgets, but Śląsk wanted assurances Koftas would be playing every week, which Scott had promised would happen. Another year, and another chance to see the youth player develop.

‘Good, I’m happy that one’s sorted’ Scott said, but before he could move on to the next issue on the agenda, there was a knock at the door. Marcin Lachowski, the director of football stepped in, looking as unreadable as ever.

‘Well they’ve bid for him’ he said. Scott and Peter knew exactly who he was referring to. Odra Opole, who have done incredibly well with back to back to back promotions to the top division, had been credited with an interest in Hubert Antkowiak. Antkowiak had been brought in with high hopes, only for him to spend most of the season wrapped in bandages and disappointment. Twenty appearances, most from the bench, and only six goals. Not good enough, even for a promoted team at the bottom of the league, not a promoted team that had overachieved and were going places.

Peter didn’t miss a beat when he said ‘I’d accept’. Scott just rubbed his chin and looked at Marcin then said ‘how much?’

‘Starting bid is pathetic, eight’

‘Thousand?’ Scott asked, shocked. Marcin gave a wry smile with a nod of his head. Scott laughed and said ‘Do they think we need to sell to raise funds? Are we a f*cking charity?’

Marcin shrugged and said ‘it’s a starting bid and he wants to speak to them’ to which Scott snapped ‘if they want him and he wants to go they’re paying for him. Take nothing less than twenty’

Marcin nodded and left the room. Peter and Scott went back over the things they’d agreed needed priority, Koftas being one of the first ones. As the minutes turned to hours there was heavy tension in the room brewing like a storm waiting to break. Neither man wanted to admit it, but they’d need another forward if and when Antkowiak left.

But the silence was broken by Scotts phone ringing. It was Marcin. The deal was done. They’d agreed on twenty thousand for Antkowiak, in one lump sum.

Scott hung up and said to Peter ‘that’s that, done. Twenty in a lump sum’

‘Good business, he won’t start every week’ was Peters reply.

The clock was ticking on the wall, symbolising both the time they’d spent already in the room, plus the time they had left to reinforce the squad, and now replace Antkowiak. The night was already getting longer but there was one other conversation that wouldn’t wait.

As Peter left the room, Kamil Aftyka, the Ślęza Wrocław chairman, replaced him in the chair opposite Scott. Kamil is the the kind of guy that wears a suit that always looks slightly too big for him, like he was content wearing baggy clothes. He slid a piece of paper across the table, the new contract. The weight of it more psychological than financial.

‘One year, slight increase in wage. And an automatic extension if, or more likely when, we get promoted’

Scott didn’t move. Didn’t even blink. ‘One year?’

Kamil shifted, a bit of unease on his face ‘listen Scott. You did more than anyone expected. This club was supposed to be fighting for it’s life. Instead you had us knocking on the door of promotion, and you nearly had us there. But you know how football is, one good year doesn't make you untouchable’

Scott nodded and tapped his fingers on the contract. The truth was he’d expected as much. Kamil was the kind of guy you’d call stable, content, but he’s not ambitious, not really. A long term deal from him wasn’t ever on the cards.

‘Fine’ Scott said, picking up the pen ‘One more year’. The ink dried fast.

As he left the stadium he walked into the cold night air and took a deep breath. A new season is coming. New battles, new regrets and new opportunities. But for now he was still the manager of Ślęza Wrocław.

And that’s enough.

 

[bigmattb28]

Chapter 23​

Scott was sitting at his desk, his mind a tangled web of past victories, overachievements and gnawing doubts. The last two seasons had been miracles of survival, in Bytom a series of narrow escapes from certain relegation, and at Ślęza the team never once looked like relegation candidates, both of these experiences had earned him the reputation as the ultimate firefighter. But deep down, not that deep to be fair, Scott seethed with a burning need to be recognised as more than being able to stave off disaster. He wanted to be a winner.

Peter Bastista sat opposite him, with Marcin Lachowski, the pragmatic architect also in the room, going through scouting reports and throwing names out in conversation. He’d picked out a handful of names, a promise of something different, something daring enough to break free from the pattern of rescue acts.

Marcins voice was low and measured ‘Artur Kwiatkowski and Patryk Zygmunt. Two young wingers, both with pace and guts, and from what I've seen they’re both hungry Scott. With Molski, and Mańkowski these two can be rotation options and both have potential in buckets’

Scott nodded absentmindedly, his eyes dark and distant. ‘What about the Serb? Maksimovic?’ he asked tapping his finger on the report ‘I’ve heard he’s decent’

‘Indeed he is, he’s been on my radar for a while’ Marcin said, pushing another folder across the table ‘as has Bartosz Jaroszek, the center half who will organize the back like a general marshalling his troops, much like you did in your day’ he nodded to Peter with a wink and continued ‘and lastly there’s António Rosário, I like this kid I really do’

Scott’s heart rate increased, a mixture of hope and trepidation. The players identified were a mixture of bright prospects brimming with potential and raw talent. Yet the weight of his recent success of surviving relegation and the success of those loomed large. His fear was if he only continued to rescue teams from the brink his legacy would forever be tarnished as a manager who merely survived, not one who conquered.

He leaned forward, eyes narrowing as if trying to read the future on the papers ‘I can’t shake it Pete’ he said quietly ‘no matter what we do, they’ll always say I’m the guy who just stops relegation, I’m not built to be a winner, I’m built to be the saviour’

Peters laugh was short and bitter ‘Scott, you worry too much. Sometimes a gamble is just a gamble. You build something, you take a chance, if it works, we all win. If it doesn’t we learn from it. You’re over thinking it as usual’

But Scotts mind churned like a stormy sea. Every victory he’d clawed from the jaws of defeat in Bytom and Wroclaw had come with scars, and those scars are a constant reminder of what he might never be, a champion. His father, Piotr Lańkowski, had carved his own legacy as a scout for both the Polish national team and Toronto FC in Canada. Scott is desperate to prove he’s more than just Piotr’s son, that his own name would be remembered for daring to chase glory.

Marcins voice cut through his inner turmoil ‘We want to be building a team capable of challenging for promotion Scott. This isn’t about avoiding failure anymore, it’s about going all out. These players, this club, its all about our chance to change the narrative’

Scott stared at the list and then at the rain soaked pavement outside ‘what if it falls apart, this gamble, if it doesn’t pay off? Then we’ll be back to being the relegation survivalists, people that save teams but never win anything’

‘We won’t know until we try Scotty. And maybe you’re more capable than you think. Sometimes you’ve gotta risk everything to carve your own path’

‘Sounds like something my dad would say’ Scott said, Peter just smiled. A long silence followed that as they both mulled over the words, the weight of doubt mingling in with the lure of possibility. In that moment they both made the decision, the commitment not only to the team but to themselves. They would sign new faces, they would bet on the young talent they’ve found and hope that destiny might smile on them.

‘Let’s sign them, all five. Let’s build a team that will fight for promotion. I don’t want to be known as the guy who stops relegation, it’s time to make my mark’

The decision was made, and as the rain outside softened to a mist. Whilst unspoken between them, they both felt a flicker of determination ignite, a promise made without words that this season, they’ll dream of more than survival, they’ll dare to win.

 

[bigmattb28]

Chapter 24​

The snow was viscous and hammered down the narrow window inside Scotts office, each drop a cold reminder of the new seasons uncertain promise. In the dimly lit office Scott sat with furrowed brows, his mind a battleground of ambition and recent ghosts. He’d built his reputation the last two years as a man that pulled his teams back from the brink, a relegation saviour in Bytom and a miracle worker for promoted Ślęza. But now, as the season loomed with all its treacherous possibilities, he longed to be known as not just a stoppage artist. He wanted to win.

Across the room was Marcin Lachowski, and he slid forward a print out toward Scott.

‘Diego Malania’ he said, tone even, a calm amidst the storm ‘center half from Khimki in Russia. They agreed to twelve thousand, he’s solid, exactly what we need to build a wall at the back’

Scotts eyes narrowed, studying the report as if it was a cipher to his destiny ‘Malania, looks like the perfect gamble that’ll tip the scales our way. But what about the creativity we need in the middle, we’ve discussed nothing but defence all day’ his voice was low, almost questioning the very choices that saved his previous campaigns.

Marcin leaned forward, his hand clasped as if sealing a secret pact ‘that’s where Mateusz Michalski comes in. In the 33 games he played last season he got us 4 goals with 11 assists, not bad and an average rating of 7.22. Stal Mielec and Raków Częstochow both want him. He’s happy with either team, it’s more a case of what money we can get for him. The kicker here is, you asked earlier if he can be replaced. And I’ve got his replacement already lined up’

Scotts heart gave a slow and measured beat as he recalled those words earlier in the week. He’d always feared that swapping players like for like meant he could only rescue a team, not build a winner ‘go on then’ he said to Marcin, voice tight.

‘Michal Glanowski. A roaming playmaker with the same spark as Michalski. More experienced and he’ll strengthen the team and give the forwards the creativity they need to thrive. I didn’t say it but Michalski has agreed a deal with Stal Mielec for twenty thousand, a nice sum I think’

A smile tugged at Scotts lips. Everyone knows a manager that lingers too long in the role of a fixer, those that save teams from disaster without ever daring to dream of glory. Now with new faces coming in and old ones being cashed in on, he felt the pressure to transform his image from a mere bandage to a builder of champions. ‘Okay, I’ll go speak to Mateusz, let him know what’s going on’

Before he could sink deeper into his thoughts though Marcin dropped one last piece of news as he pulled his phone out ‘Also, this one might hurt a bit. Slodowy is attracting interest. I know you like him, but Cracovia and Chroby both want him, both top division teams with money to spend, as well as Suwalki in the division above us’

Scott let the silence stretch out as the snow continued its relentless rhythm outside. He wondered if in chasing promotion from the third division, was he setting himself up for another season of what ifs and doubts? Was he capable of turning a rescue mission into a triumph, or was he doomed to be remembered only as the man who kept teams from being buried?

His mind drifted back to Jakub, the man who had cast him aside at Bytom. The betrayal stung then but with Bytoms relegation a grim satisfaction tempered the bitterness. However every time Scott closed his eyes that slight sneer echoed in the dark. He had something to prove, not just to the footballing world but to himself. More than just a relegation doctor he wanted, no, needed to be a winner. To shake of the weight of his father Piotr’s long legacy, the head scout for the Polish national team and chief scout for Toronto FC. Scott wasn’t just Piotr’s son any more, he is his own man ready to risk it all for a taste, just a small taste of genuine glory.

Peter Bastista, leaning casually on the table broke into his thoughts ‘you're doing it again Scott’ Peter was referring to Scotts overthinking, a trait Peter had picked up since joining the team as Scotts assistant ‘We’ve got the right pieces coming together. It’s a gamble, every football match is, but you know as well as me that you’ve got to risk everything if you’re going to change the game’

Scott looked at his trusty assistant and in Peters confidence he saw a spark he desperately needed ‘maybe you’re right, Pete’ he said murmuring, voice softening as the acceptance to gamble sank in ‘we take the gamble and if it pays off, we show them we’re not just relegation survivors. We’re builders of winners’

In that snow filled moment, with the deals of Michalski and Granowski done, and Slodowy being discussed, Scott felt a flicker of hope. The season ahead will be a long, uncertain road paved with risks and ups and downs.

But the gamble wasn’t just about survival any more. It’s about rising up to claim the glory he’d been dreaming of.