[FM17] The Maple and the Eagle

[bigmattb28]

Chapter 25​

As he walked out of the stadium it was eerily quiet, setting the tone for the conversation that would be taking place in a matter of moments. As Kamil Aftyka approached him Scott felt the weight of the world press down on him like never before.

Kamil Aftyka, the chairman had built a reputation of someone that seemed as unpredictable as the weather. He looked Scott square in the eyes, both mens expressions unreadable, both faces masks that held secrets and half truths

‘Scott’ Kamil began ‘I’ve been looking for you’ Scott didn’t believe this for a second as he, Peter and Marcin had been locked in the office for hours. He didn’t say anything so Kamil took the hint and said ‘I need to tell you something. I’m selling the team’

For a long moment time seemed to freeze. Scotts mind was trying to compute what Kamil had just said and his heart hammered in his chest like a wild animal trying to break free. The words hit him like a sucker punch below the belt, unexpected, brutal and loaded with uncertain consequences. His mind starting racing with scenarios; new owners, new rules, new and possibly lower ambitions that might not include him at the helm of the very team he’d been painstakingly building

‘What on Earth? You’re selling the club?’ Scotts voice was rough, barley above a whisper

Kamils eyes softened for a moment, just a split second, as if weighing the burden of his words ‘Yes, Scott, I am. The decision has been made, but it wasn’t taken lightly. And listen, your contract you signed, your role as manager, it will be honored as part of the deal, I promise you that’

Promise. The word rang hollow in the storm of Scotts thoughts. Even with that assurance the future now looked murky. New owners meant new agendas, new pressures and aims, and the season was already a delicate balancing act

Scotts inner turmoil roiled like a dark sea. He’d fought tooth and nail to make sure Sleza weren’t relegation candidates last season and to build something out of nothing. Now, the very foundation of that work was about to be uprooted by the shifting winds of new ownership. He felt like a lone fighter standing in the rain, uncertain whether the coming tempest would lift him to glory, or tear him and the team apart

He stared at Kamil his eyes mixing with defiance and dread ‘you know what this means, don’t you? A change in management, a change in priorities. We’re on the brink of a good run and I'm aiming for promotion. Now I’m supposed to worry about what the new owners want with our team?’

Kamil spoke, voice soft but insistent ‘Scott, change is inevitable. I wouldn’t be making the deal if I didn’t believe you’re the right man to lead this club through whatever comes next, trust me when I say that. And trust me when I say that your contract stands, you have nothing to fear from the deal’

But trust was a fragile thing in the world of football, a world of shattered dreams and broken promises. Scott could only nod as his mind was a storm of anxious thoughts and worries. He wondered if he’d ever be free of the weight of expectations or if he’d be forever known as the relegation saviour, forced to rescue teams only to see them crumble under new ambitions.

As the day went on Scott felt the chill of uncertainty seep into his bones. The season ahead was already riddled with high stakes and fresh gambles and now carried an extra burden, a future not entirely his to control.

In that moment he made a silent vow, that he would fight on, not just to save a team from the abyss but to carve his own destiny amid the chaos of change. Whether the new owners would be friend or foe he knew one thing for certain; he would not let this shift in power define him.

The club might get sold, new owners might come in but Scotts resolve would burn as fiercely as ever, even if his heart trembled beneath the weight of uncertainty.

– – – – --

 

[bigmattb28]

Chapter 26​

​

The night before was cold and ruthless, a fitting stage for a game of chance and grit. In the locker room Scott was eyeing his newly appointed captain, last seasons vice captain Kajetan Latka, and the newly confirmed vice captain Alain Ngamayama. Their faces were set and steeled for the battle ahead. The Polish FA cup first round lay before them, a chance to get some early form and to let the other teams in the league know he's more than just a relegation salvager.

On the pitch the cup match against Sandecja began like a tense, slow burning fuse. Jakub Jakobczyk broke the silence in the 22nd minute, his strike slicing through the gloom to give Ślęza the lead. The crowd’s murmur was a low expectant growl, but the game held its breath.

For the next fifty minutes of the game both teams were swapping hard tackles and fleeting opportunities. The air was thick with sweat, grime and the echo of a thousand doubts. But then in the seventy second minute Sandecja equalised. A low shot that crept into the bottom corner.

That goal forced Scott to grit his teeth, the balance had been shattered.

But as if fate had more cards to play, the new signing Diego Malania, whose signing had been received with optimistic caution, capitilsed on a set piece from the kick off for the equaliser. His header, precise and hard carved the path for the rest of the game.

A brief moment later, Jaroszek, the other new signing in defence seemed to seal the deal, however the linesman had raised his flag and ruled his headed goal offside.

The decision was bitter but irrelevant as Ślęza held on for a 2-1 victory.

That victory was tainted however. The other striker in the first team Mikolaj Koftas, had been forced off with an injury, a cruel twist in the tale. As Scott surveyed the post match scene in the floodlit stands of the stadium, worry started gnawing at him. The cup game was an early taste of success in the new season but the team was now dangerously thin up front. After letting Antowiak leave and this injury, he was left with just the one fit striker, Jakobczyk, a player as crucial as he was vulnerable.

After the players had all left and there was just Scott and Marcin left in the locker room, Scott said ‘Koftas is down’ his tone a mix of frustration and fear ‘we’re running with one forward. If Jakobczyk gets injured, then what?’ he let the comment sit before adding ‘the league starts next week away at Elbląg. They might have been relegated and looking to go back up, but you know how unpredictable the opening day of the season can be’

Maricn leaned in with steady eyes ‘I know Scott, I’ve got my ear to the ground and the scout has come back to me already, and I think I’ve found the answer. A striker with the right blend of grit and hunger to slot in easily. Leave it with me a day or so, I’ll get back to you with the details’

Scott stared into the dim light, his mind now a whirlpool of ambition and doubt. The new season was days away, a season where every match would be a gamble, every minute a risk of failure. He had saved two teams from relegation but he craved a legacy that transcended mere survival, a legacy of a winner.

His heart pounded as he contemplated the precarious future. With fresh faces taking up leadership positions on the pitch and an early victory in the cup to mask deeper vulnerabilities, the challenge ahead was monumental. And beneath it all Scott wrestled with his own restless spirit, a yearning to prove he was more than just a saviour of teams, that he was a man capable of forging winners, even as the bitter chill of uncertainty crept into every corner of his soul. Scott knew this was only the beginning. Every decision, every gamble from here on out would either carve his name into glory or leave him as nothing more than a man haunted by what might have been.

 

[bigmattb28]

Chapter 27​

The wind was racing outside the office window, a relentless percussion that matched Scott Lańkowski’s inner turmoil. The new season was about to begin and in his mind the stakes had never been higher. Ślęza’s only fit striker was Jakub Jakobczyk, while an excellent player, one man alone couldn’t carry the weight of a promotion push.

Across the cluttered desk, Marcin spread out the scouting report like a talisman. With a resolute tone he said ‘Leândro, Radomiak’s striker, 16 in 24 last season, even though they went down. We can secure him for thirteen thousand. He’ll walk straight into the team for the game against Olimpia Elbląg’

Scotts eyes narrowed, dark clouds gathering behind them ‘Radom, he couldn’t keep them up though. How can I trust a striker from a club that’s fallen so far?’ his voice was low and loaded with unease. Every harsh gust of wind echoed his doubts.

‘Because talent doesn’t always shine under the best conditions Scott. Leândro was the only bright spark in that sinking ship. I am certain he’s exactly what we need. The midfield of Mroz, Molski and Granowksi will love feeding him the ball, Jakub will thrive playing off him, so will Koftas. Leândro will do what he’s meant to do, I’m sure of it’ Marcin said with a firm tone

Scott just stared at the file, fingers tapping a rhythm on the desk. The notion of signing a striker from a fallen club gnawed at him ‘I’m not sure’ he muttered ‘it’s a gamble, and we know this season is all about gambles. What if he can’t adapt? He was their best player, he might not be our best player. What if his form was a product of their desperation and not real ability?’

Marcin was ready for this kind of question from Scott, but before he could reply with his already worked out answer, Peter Bastista made the move to convince the boss ‘we know sometimes we’ve got to take a chance, that’s what this season is all about. I’ve seen the boy play, he’s got a killer instinct and a natural eye for goal, the kind that our midfield can unlock. And we can’t afford to just rely on Jakub’

Scotts gaze shifted between the two men, his most trusted comrades. He replayed the words in his mind, each on stirring the restless battleground inside him. His mind raced back to the nights spent rescuing Bytom from relegation, the man who stopped that impending disaster. Now, in Wroclaw, with promotion the aim and on the line, he feared his growing reputation would be pinned on a gamble gone wrong.

Marcin’s eyes held steady as he said ‘this isn’t about playing it safe, it’s about evolving. We need a striker that can do more than just fill a void. Leândro is that spark’

Scott let out a long breath, his thoughts swirling like the wind outside. He finally nodded, though the weight of uncertainty clung to him ‘fine, okay’ he said, voice tight with determinant and a slight hint of resignation ‘bring him in’

The deal was done. Leândro was signed for a mere thirteen thousand five hundred Euro and the news spread through the ranks at the club like wildfire. Some of the players knew who he was and were happy to be playing alongside him. Błażej Radler was the first to comment, telling Scott that he’d been turned inside out on more than one occasion by the new signing.

In the first training session since his arrival, Leândro was a fresh face, but still an untested blade in the fire of competition. As the session commenced Scott was watching him closely. Every touch and every run carried the silent pressure of expectation. The midfield worked the drills and operated with surgical precision, feeding the ball into Leândro who was quick, hungry and seemed unburdened by past failures. Jakub Jakobczyk in contrast was happy playing off him and playing the ball into the new man, a seemingly quick transition to a new strike partner.

Yet even as he saw his two forwards flashes of teamwork and brilliance Scotts mind was a storm of worry. What if Jakobczyk went down, could Leândro bare the burden on his own shoulders? How long would Koftas be out if his injury flared up? The future was a tightrope walk over a chasm of doubt.

In the back of his mind Scotts internal voice whispered to him. This gamble might redefine him as more than a relegation stopper, it could be his chance to build a winning legacy. But the fear lingered, a specter in every shadow on the pitch.

Scott sat in the locker room later that day and he couldn’t shake the mix of hope and anxiety that gnawed at him. The new season was a double edged sword, a chance to be a winner or yet another gamble that might leave him haunted by the same old doubts.

In the darkness he vowed to watch every move, and to trust his new signing, and to fight every ounce of his being. Promotion was on the horizon but only time would tell if Leândro would be the man to lead them there, or if the gamble would come back to him and the team.

 

[bigmattb28]

Chapter 28​

The opening game of the season was here, and at the stadium it was a cathedral of wet concrete and shattered expectations, the cold wind slicing through the stands like the whisper of forgotten dreams. Ślęza Wrocław are the underdogs in the game, away at Olimpia Elbląg, a team that following their recent relegation are the favourites to bounce right back up into the second division. But in the crucible of rain and wind, the footballing gods had another plan.

The whistle blew to signal the start of the new season, and almost instantly, in a blur of gold and crimson shirts a neat one-two played out around the box between Leândro and Jakobczyk, a seamless give and go that shattered the noise from the expectant home fans in the crowd. In the very first minute, and the first attack of the game no less, Jakobczyk unleashed a first time shot that carved through the afternoon sun, finding the back of the net coming off Leândro’s subtle and sublime touch providing the perfect assist. The Elbląg players were all caught off guard and could only gape as the Ślęza players wheeled away in jubilation.

Scott Lańkowski, standing on the sideline, felt his heart pound like a drum in a back alley brawl. Shock and satisfaction mingled in his chest. He had expected a battle, a slog of survival. Instead, Ślęza had exploded right out of the blocks

Within ten minutes played the tempo had surged. A cross from the right by Mankowski met Leândro’s outstretched foot and the scoreboard changed to 2 in favour of Ślęza. A debut goal for the new signing.

Another fifteen minutes of football played in the game, which was quite close despite the scoreline, Leândro struck again, a cold clinical header just inside the box that left the home team reeling. 3-0 to Ślęza and cruising.

Barely eight minutes after the third goal, Leândro found space yet again and threaded a pass to set up Jakobczyk who made it 4-0 with a goal that seemed to defy the odds

As if on cue right from the restart again, Glanowski split the defense with a visionary pass. Jakobczyk already in unplayable form thumped home another goal, completing his hat trick on thirty five minutes that made the home crowd stunned in silent disbelief.

The half time whistle and respite from the game didn’t end the onslaught there; two minutes after the restart that man Leândro produced a moment of brilliance. Another forward pass from Jakobczyk found the new signing who went on a solo run that drew out three defending players in the mist and madness, then as the keeper came he toe poked the ball low and hard out of the outstretched arm to seal his own hat trick and the sixth goal for Ślęza.

To end the demolition of the league favourites, vice captain Ngamayama rose like a man possessed from an inswinging Mroz corner, his header sealing the staggering 7-0 victory

At full time Scott’s head was spinning with emotions. He could barley believe the scoreline, 7-0, etched in the bold against the scoreboard. His eyes beamed with pride as he watch the forwards Jakobczyk and Leândro in celebration, their partnership on the pitch a beacon of lethal promise. Yet beneath the admiration lay a simmering worry.

Quietly in the back of his mind Scott mulled over a difficult truth; if these two forwards carried the attack so brilliantly, what then of the on loan kid Koftas? The young striker, who Scott had taken a liking to and had promised would be a starter now seemed destined to be relegated to a rotation option, a role that stung his pride as much as it threatened the delicate balance of the team.

In the quiet of the locker room amid the echo of the tang of sweat and adrenaline, Scott spoke to Peter in a hushed almost resigned tone ‘I can’t believe what they’ve done today' he said, eyes reflecting both triumph and genuine shock ‘Jakobczyk and Leândro, they turned that game into an art form, but at what cost?’ It wasn’t a question, a mere statement referring to Koftas role in the team.

Peter shrugged and said ‘Scotty, we won tonight, both strikers got hat tricks and we showed the league we’re not messing around’ he waited a moment then said ‘we’ll figure it out as we go. We know Jakobczyk and Leândro can work together, Koftas when he’s back will have to play out of his skin every time to get the nod now. It’s a cut throat business the kid needs to know that’

But even as Peter’s words washed over him Scott’s mind remained a battleground of hope and doubt. The opening game was a tempest of promise, a glimpse of what might be if fate favoured them, as well as a stark reminder that every triumph in this cruel unforgiving game comes with a price.

Promotion, glory and the chance to build a legacy were all on the line. And tonight, amid the cheers and the goals, Scott vowed that he would forge a future where his name meant more than a last minute saviour.

It would be built by winners, no matter how many sacrifices it took.

 

[bigmattb28]

Chapter 29​

At the Ślęza training ground on the outskirts of the city, the air held the scent of wet earth mixing with the sweat of the early morning drills. Scott Lańkowski leaned against the chain link fence, watching the players chase elusive perfection in the muddy light. His mind, however, was far from the pitch.

Marcin Lachowski, ever the calm in the storm of transfers and contracts approached with his phone out ‘Scott, the deal’s done’ he said, tone measured and almost detached as usual ‘Mateusz Siodowy has agreed to to go GKS Katowice. I managed to get twenty six thousand for him’.

Scotts jaw tightened as he processed the news. Siodowy wasn’t just any player, he was a man had relied on and shaped in his days as Bytom manager, a beacon of loyalty and grit that he’d helped polish at Ślęza. Now this departure felt like he was losing a piece of himself.

‘Twenty six for Matty?’ Scott said with a bitter edge to his voice. He knew he couldn’t keep players in the third division, especially when top division teams come in for them, but this was tougher than the other sales ‘I trust him with everything on the pitch, he’s been the heartbeat of my defence for two seasons’

MArcins eyes betrayed a hint of sympathy and his words remained all business ‘it’s the game, Scott. Until we get up we have to sell when the price is right, we have to make moves if we’re to build a team to get us out of this division. The money was right, the timing could've been better, but we’re going places’

With a heavy sigh Scott made his way to the locker room where Siodowy was packing his gear and saying his goodbyes. The air was thick with unspoken words and the aroma of sweat and loss. He pulled Siodowy aside, his gaze locked on the worn lines of his own face hardened by the decision to sell.

‘Matty’ Scott began, tone gruff yet laced with genuine affection ‘you’ve been everything to me these last two years and I wish you the best in this new chapter, although I don’t really have the words…’ Siodowy cut him off by putting an arm around Scott, a silent understanding passing between them. With a nod and a muted farewell he left the locker room with his bag and like a ghost disappearing into the twilight walked out of the training ground to pastures new.

Back on the training pitch the storm of uncertainty was far from over. The local press had caught wind of a supporters trust making a play to buy the club which had been put up for sale, a potential lifeline that could upend the order of things. Whispers in the corridors and clattering keyboards promised a new era, but as the talks progressed between Kamil and the trust, they broke down, another fleeting hope in a world built on promises and broken deals.

In the midst of this latest sale Scott found himself questioning everything once again. Were these moves the necessary building blocks for a championship side, or was he simply unable to hold onto players he’d nurtured? Manolov, Antkowiak, Michalski and now Siodowy all great players, players to build a team around, he’d allowed to leave for profit.

The season was in full swing, and the record so far bore witness to his internal dilemma; a bright start with three wins from three, followed by two draws and two losses, one in the cup to Piast Gilwice that knocked them out, to round out the first month of the 2018/19 season. Now as Ślęza sat in fourth place, a respectable position no doubt, but a reminder that the margins between glory and mediocrity are razor thin.

Scott was stood alone in the office, lost in a tangle of regret and determination. The departure of Siodowy was a painful reminder of the harsh economics of the game, of choices that cut deeper than any tackle ever could. He wondered if his strategy was to build a team of true challengers or merely to patch the holes and keep the ship afloat.

In the murky light of the fading day Scotts inner voice whispered to him again, in the same cadence as the falling rain, questioning, doubting and yet refusing to yield ‘am I building a promotion worthy team, or just a patchwork of survivors? The season has just begun and every decision echoes in the corridors. But tomorrow, on that pitch I must show them that I can do more than just save teams, I must build a future’

The night came, and with torrential rain, heavy and unyielding, as Scott stared out into the darkness, the weight of his transfer choice pressing upon him like the ceaseless storm outside.

 

[bigmattb28]

Chapter 30​

The game was tough as expected, away at Olimpia Grudziądz. The match was a bitter cocktail of nerves and unexpected brilliance. Within the first minute sparks flew, another neat link up between Leândro and Jakobczyk sliced through the defence leaving the opposition staggered. Mateusz Broz, a familiar face to Scott from their time in Bytom, set up the equaliser with a deft pass which left center half Ngamayama straggling. As Broz jogged back to take up position in his half his eyes met Scotts across the pitch, a silent nod of mutual respect between them both that said ‘we’re both doing what we need to’

The momentum swung and Ślęza fought back, their attacking game a relentless edge. In a twist of fate or good fortune, young forward Koftas emerged from the bench for his first game back from injury, a spark in his own personal darkness. He carved open the defence with a goal that rekindled his hope and ignited the away fans. Then in a moment of precision and pressure he won a penalty that Glanowski cooly coveted, etching a 3-1 away win into the history books. Scotts heart pounded with cautious triumph as he watched the game unfold, a credible moment of harmony on the otherwise uncertain stage of league football.

Back at home the team rode high on that energy. They returned with a vengeance against Legionowo, smashing them 4-0 in a display of seamless cohesion and renewed confidence. Koftas grabbing two and Jakobczyk also continuing his goalscoring form.

The streets around the stadium hummed with the promise of a bright future, but as the lights dimmed on that euphoric afternoon, fate struck a cruel counterpoint.

In the next home match against Stomil Olsztyn, the magic vanished. The home pitch, usually a battleground of sweat and resolve, became a stage for disgrace. Ślęza’s performance crumbled under the weight of miscommunication and sluggish resolve, resulting in a shocking 4-0 loss that seared into Scott’s memory as the worst display in his tenure.

Rage coiled in him like a venomous snake. In the heat of the aftermath, with anger flashing in his eyes, Scott ordered a double training session for the next day, a brutal dose of reality aimed to mend fractured discipline.

The punishment on the training ground was as relentless as the rain, a merciless grind that left no room for weakness. And slowly, as if in answer to his fury, redemption came in the very next match. In the away fixture, the team traveled to Blekitni Stargard. Under a gray, watchful sky, they returned to form and vanquished their foes 4-0 in a pristine, ironic statement of resilience on enemy turf.

And while the pitch was a theater for redemption and despair, off of it uncertainty was brewing. Rumors swirled like smoke in a dimly lit back room, another new group was interested in buying the club, the third such group so far. Chairman Kamil Aftyka had already entered talks and whispers in the local press promised change again. The prospect of new ownership loomed like a spector, promising opportunity and upheaval.

Scott stood at the edge of it all, his mind a tangle of elation and dread. On the one hand, Jakobczyk and Leândro’s dazzling partnership had lit the path to victory; on the other, the crushing defeat at Stomil had left him questioning whether his vision was enough.

The pressure of potential change both on the field and in the boardroom pressed down on him. Every decision was a gamble with the future of Ślęza, a future that could either cement his legacy as a true builder of winners or condemn him to the role of perpetual savior.

As the rain fell once more, Scott’s eyes traced the empty stands of the stadium, a silent, mournful audience to his doubts and his dreams. He knew that tomorrow would bring another battle, another chance to prove that he was more than a mere fixer.

In that lingering moment between victory and ruin, amid whispers of change and the promise of redemption, Scott Lańkowski steeled himself for the trials ahead. The season was far from over, and with every step, he continued to forge a future where champions were born from fire, even if it meant burning everything else to the ground.

-- -- -- -- --​

 

[bigmattb28]

ii Liga. The big game. Ślęza Wrocław vs Polonia Warszawa​

The morning sun was casting sharp shadows over the training ground, cutting through Wroclaw’s usual bitter cold. Scott Lańkowski stood before the team in the locker room, his gaze focussed and steeled with resolve. The air was different today, not heavy with rain but charged with a fierce clarity.

‘Listen up boys’ he began with a low voice and unwavering ‘tomorrow we’ve got to have no fear. Nothing to lose and everything to gain. We take it to the leaders, Polonia Warsawa are top of the league as we know, and unbeaten in fifteen games. But that’s exactly why we must show them that we mean business. We’re not going to play it safe, we're going to fight for every inch. Remember I said at the start of the season this year is about identity? Well we have our identity on the line tomorrow and we’re going to write it loud and proud. So when we line up tomorrow go out there and leave it all on the pitch’

The players responded with a murmur of determination, each man absorbing Scott’s rallying cry as if it were a lifeline.

The big game came around quickly. The ref blew the whistle to start and the game was underway. The first goal came quickly. In the eighth minute Koftas, given the starting nod over Leândro ignited the match and the fire in the home fans, an early goal of the season contender, as he hit a shot on the half volley from the edge of the area that left the Warsawa keeper clutching at the air.

The home crowd erupted and Koftas, arms aloft soaked it all in.

After the restart Ślęza pressed high and won it back deep in the Warsawa half. Koftas held up the ball and with a slight nod to his strike partner Jakobczyk played it into the box towards the penalty spot. As Jakobczyk ran toward it the ensuing tussle between striker and defender, the covering Warsawa man Stasz committed a clumsy foul sending Jakobczyk to the deck.

The ref initially hesitated but looked to his left and saw the linesmens flag up and awarded the penalty to the home team

The tension, already high with a nervous excitement spiked, and the penalty, a moment of potential destiny, was given to Glanowski to convert. But his effort while hard and on target went the same way as Gorski in the Warsawa net.

The miss seared Scotts temper as his jaw clenched he muttered under his breath, frustration mingling with disbelief at the squandered opportunity.

At half time the score still read 1-0 in favour of Ślęza. In the locker room the calm efficiency of goalkeeper Gessl was the unsung hero, making a series of vital stops that kept the lead intact. Scott recognised that every save was a small defiance against the leaders.

The second half brought renewed energy. Leândro starting on the bench came on as a second half substitute for Koftas begane to carve his way into the game. In a swift sequence his clever movement off the ball to find space to receive the inbound pass from Mroz to then feed Jakobczyk who had a simple tap in that double the lead. The goal wasn’t just a number, it was a statement.

Suddenly the gap at the top of the league shrank to a single point, and the stadium buzzed with a tangible surge of hope.

As the final whilst blew jubilation swept the stands. The team all stood united in triumph and celebrated with a fervor that mingled relief and ambition. In the midst of the cheer Scotts mind was racing, not with self congratulation, but with a quiet and fierce belief that they could do. Promotion was no longer a distant dream, it was a real possibility. And perhaps, after this victory they could even dare to win the league.

As the team gathered around the boss at pitchside, all eyes alight with a newfound confidence. And Scott vowed that this was the beginning of a future written in bold strokes, and tempered in the heat of relentless ambition.

-- -- -- -- --​

 

[MT55]

Glad to see you posting on here mate! Will be following.