Foal From Grace - A Borussia Mönchengladbach Sequel to 'Singing the Blues'

[Chonky Panda Tactics]

It isn’t often you get the opportunity to win an honour in four successive, competitive fixtures, but the chance to claim this rare achievement has presented itself as we head to North Macedonia to face Europa League-winning Manchester UFC in the UEFA Super Cup, in a repeat of the 2027 Europa League final.

In a weird quirk, I’ve swapped roles with the man in UFC’s dugout - Antonio Conte. Having faced the Italian last summer after he’d won the Champions League with Birmingham to qualify for the showpiece, it’s my turn to manage the club with the ‘Kings of Europe’ moniker as we face off again, though I’ll be hoping to get my hands on the trophy this time - especially as it’s the only competition I’ve taken part in, but not won - so it’s an unchanged lineup from that which claimed the German Supercup as we look to exorcise our demons from our last meeting with Conte.

​

We look every bit the Champions of Europe as we dominate the first half, racing into an early lead through Dominik Szoboszlai before Tresoldi capitalises on a weak Diogo Dalot header to rifle in a second and nearly grabs a third moments later, only to be denied by a tremendous block by Bremer. We look to be in total control and on course for our second trophy in five days.

Then the second half starts.

There’s not a dramatic shift in the game’s momentum, but it’s clear that UFC are slowly clawing back some modicum of control, their first major warning coming when the former colossus in my backline at Blues, Ibrahima Konaté, cracks a header off of the crossbar at a corner in a scene I’ve been on the other side of so many times before - but that warning is not heeded. As we enter the 70th minute, Ângelo slips through David Datro Fofana to slot past Kobel, and the Brazilian has another assist to his name within eight minutes when his header back across goal is tapped in by the lurking Marcus Rashford to restore parity.

Back to square one with under ten minutes remaining, I try to formulate any ideas to turn the ship around and get back in front, cursing my luck that I’d already taken off Szoboszlai when we win a free kick that’s within his range, however Mark Barber has his own approach to set pieces that transpires to be just as effective. The forward takes the kick short to Tresoldi, who’s been lurking behind the wall, and the Italian has the vision to hit a cutting pass through the crowd at the first attempt, finding Cardo Makengo with enough time to either direct a short movie on why I shouldn’t have rejected Liverpool's bid for him, or pick his spot and rifle past Anatoliy Trubin.

And I sure am glad he chose the latter.

Crank up the stodge and turn down the excitement, this rollercoaster match belongs to us - as does our first ever UEFA Super Cup.

* * * * * * * *
​

As the week gives way to another weekend, the excitement of silverware transitions into excitement over the Bundesliga season kicking off as Werder Bremen travel south-west for our opener at Borussia-Park.

In spite of Grzegorz Krychowiak’s men finishing in a disappointing 13th place last season, I still name a strong lineup in an attempt to start the season the right way. The only change to Wednesday’s lineup sees Gustavo Gallardo come in for the suspended Manu Koné in midfield, meaning Franky Hilgers and Jesper Lindstrøm will have to wait for our DFB-Pokal tie during the week for their first starts after agreeing new five- and four-year deals respectively.

​

“A very pleasing way to start the season,” Zlatan states, sitting next to me in the dugout with an impressed look on his face as the final minutes of our match play out. “Dominik smashing in the opener just before half-time and Nicolò curling in a second just after Die Werderaner finally had some shots and looked like they might wake up - a very competent display.”

“I can’t stop thinking about Dom’s goal,” Kevin sighs, wistfully. “The pure fury behind the effort, sprinkled with enough control to keep it on target, but not too much to allow Iker Álvarez the time to do anything better than push it into the roof of the net. It made me feel things that very few people have made me feel before. Borderline erotic, even.”

“Have you forgotten that you’re mic’d up for the documentary, Kevin?” I ask.

“No, why?”

“I’m just surprised at your decision to vocalise that thought,” I say, carefully.

“I have nothing to be ashamed of, I am me and I am glorious,” Kevin declares, proudly pushing his shoulders back and his chin out as the final whistle sounds.

“Kevin?”

“Yes, Zlats?”

“You may be glorious, but you need to have a little more shame.”

* * * * * * * *
​

Another midweek, another competition as Wednesday brings the final of our four-successive games in different competitions when we travel to Homberg for the first round of the DFB-Pokal.

It feels like a lifetime ago that we made the same trip for my second fixture as Borussia Mönchengladbach’s boss, cautiously optimistic about any potential success, rather than practically expectant as many are now. Alas, it’s only been two years, yet the difference is dramatic, and that isn’t limited to our trophy haul and me finally grasping the difference between Homberg and Hamburg as only Gallardo and Lindstrøm from that day’s Backup Brigade are part of this evening’s lineup too - hopefully, for all that’s changed, it’ll be a straightforward repeat of the battering we handed out last time.

​

It’s not often you come away disappointed from a match during which you take 29 shots to your opponents’ zero, but today is one of those days.

Having anticipated waltzing past fifth-tier Homberg with the same level indifference that monkeys at safari parks show windscreen wipers, the combination of some staggeringly poor misses and Homberg’s goalkeeper, Nico Willeke, having the match of his life leaves me scratching my head in bewilderment for long periods of the 90. Thankfully, our pressure finally gets its rewards in the final 20 minutes, Ian Maatsen netting for the first time since following the same path as Bielik and me, then Lindstrøm nonchalantly flicking in a second from a tight angle before whatever hope remained for our hosts is crushed when Ole Marx careens into Maatsen with both feet off the floor and rightly receives his marching orders with seven minutes of regulation time remaining.

Our Pokal journey continues into the second round, albeit less emphatically than hoped, and our victory sets up an early rematch with our opponents in the final just three months ago - Greuther Fürth.

* * * * * * * *​

 

[Chonky Panda Tactics]

With our visit to Homberg in the books, by Sunday we’re on the road again as we return to Bundesliga action for our trip to, of all places, Hamburg. You couldn’t plan this fixture list any more ridiculously.

After all the changes that were made during the week, it’s back to a full-strength and well-rested eleven at the Volksparkstadion as we aim to continue our unbeaten start against a Hamburg side that’ll be high on confidence after their 4-1 drubbing of Hoffenheim on the opening day.

​

After a number of impressive first-half displays to start the season, it was about time we had a slightly underwhelming opening period. Not bad, by any means, but the usual zip and energy in our play simply wasn’t there, so some encouragement at half-time and a shift to the 4-3-3 are in order.

The improvement is obvious within minutes as we come out after the break looking far more incisive and we craft several decent openings, going close when Miloš Šarac briefly turns into prime Lionel Messi, cutting inside from the right and beating three men before remembering his usual career as a centre-back and blasting his shot straight at Faaris Yusufu, but all that does is encourage my boys to keep going.

Soon, Hamburg’s resistance finally falls. When Lamptey picks up the ball out on the right, he takes a few paces infield before firing a glorious cross-field pass out to Szoboszlai on the left. The Hungarian’s first touch is delightful, losing his marker with ease and teeing himself up to lash in with his second touch to give us the advantage at last, an advantage that Die Rothosen never look remotely like threatening as we ease our way to three more points.

* * * * * * * *
​

“Have you seen the Champions League draw?” I ask my assistants when they join me for coffee on Friday morning.

“I have,” Zlatan frowns as he sits down.

“If you want to be the best, you’ve got to beat the best, I suppose,” Kevin says, seating himself next to Zlatan.

“Yes, but I’d rather do that in the knockouts than have to face the last two winners of the Premier League, a recent Champions League winner, AND Real Madrid in the league phase.”

​

“At least we know Leipzig inside and out, and Shakhtar, Sporting, and Anderlecht shouldn’t cause us too much trouble,” Kevin suggests.

“Sporting and Anderlecht are both away, for what it’s worth,” Zlatan notes.

“Oh, yeah, I’d forgotten that,” Kevin says. “Scratch my previous statement, this is an outrage. Somebody at UEFA has an agenda against us.”

“You’ve gone from one extreme to the other, try and find somewhere in the middle.”

“This is… not ideal?”

“Perfect.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if we end up dropping into the play-off places this season,” I admit.

“I reckon we’ve got enough about us to make the top eight,” Kevin says. “Sure, some of those clubs have massive budgets, cultures of success, some of the best players in the world, and the habit of beating German opposition, but we’ve been successful over the last couple of seasons too, right?”

“That did not inspire positivity the way I think you thought it was going to,” Zlatan sighs.

“Let’s move on to a different topic, shall we?” I say.

“You brought up this one,” Kevin grumbles, but I decide to pretend I didn’t hear him.

“Do we think the boys look ready for Freiburg tomorrow?”

“Think so, I haven’t seen any reasons to be concerned yet,” Zlatan nods.

“It’s crazy to think that this’ll be the 17th season in a row that Freiburg have started the campaign with Christian Streich in charge,” Kevin says. “I don’t think I could stay in one place for that long.”

“Me neither,” Zlatan agrees.

“I probably could,” I say. “Wouldn’t make for as many interesting stories when it comes time to write my autobiography, though.”

“Imagine: there’s an alternate universe out there in which you never left Birmingham, signed Jude Bellingham for a ridiculous amount of money, then continued to stomp through all opposition, probably signing someone like Kevin de Bruyne to add a bit of experience and even more quality to your midfield,” Kevin laughs.

“How do you know about my Football Manager save?”

“Pardon?”

“Nothing, don’t worry about it…”

​

After the struggles we had against Freiburg last season, it’s a relief that my players don’t seem to have carried any concerns from those performances forward to this campaign, ravaging our visitors with a first-half performance so dominant they were fortunate to only find themselves 2-0 down when returning to their dressing room as a result of some wayward shooting from my lads.

Though we ease off in the second half, the damage has already been done, and Freiburg must be fully aware of this, not taking a shot as they allow us to calmly play our way through the closing 45 and continue our promising start to yet another campaign.

But, come May 2029, will it have helped bring us yet another treble?

* * * * * * * *​

Thank you for reading! A link to my socials and my previous story can be found on my Linktree, and please follow the thread to be updated every time there's a new post!

 

[Chonky Panda Tactics]

Part Twenty-Seven​

Welcome back to Foal From Grace! The path to defending our Champions League crown starts this week - but can we get off to a good start?

This part is spread across multiple posts, so make sure to catch all six games!

Series Links

​

“I’m not sure we can put that in the documentary, Nicole,” Mason Tomlinson from CPTV+ grimaces.

“Why not?” I frown. “All I said was -”

“It doesn’t need repeating,” Mason’s colleague, Elliot Vale, interrupts. “We’re not allowed to air any political views that’d potentially limit our audience.”

“LGBTQ+ folk are facts, not ‘political views’,” I sneer. “I’m one, for example. Is my existence debatable, or is my presence evidence enough for you that I exist?”

“I never said that, what I was referring to -”

“Was everybody having the same legal rights to be treated fairly and how uncomfortable that makes you?” I snap, doing the interrupting this time. “I understand, equality often looks like oppression to the privileged.”

“No, I simply have difficulty believing -”

“If you tell me you have difficulty believing transgender and non-binary people, only to then say you haven’t ever spoken to an individual in their communities about their experiences, I’m going to break your nose.”

“Okay, let’s calm things down a little and get back on track,” Mason says, softly.

“Yes, let’s,” Elliot agrees.

“If you insist,” I shrug.

“Right then,” Mason sighs, relieved. “Things are going well at the moment, that goes without saying, and you’ve got a history of kicking a campaign off fairly well throughout your career. What do you believe is the secret to starting the season successfully?”

“To start the season well, I’d say that preparation is one of the most important things,” I say. “If you haven’t done the right things in preseason, that can very easily bleed into the competitive fixtures. I’d also argue that making sure every member of the squad is on the same page is crucial. Everybody needs to know their role and knuckle down for the team, especially those on the fringes of the starting eleven that’ll need to make the most of the chances they get. They’ll get opportunities over the course of the campaign, but if they exceed expectations when picked then -”

A loud ‘thud’ on the window startles all three of us, derailing any trains of thought.

“What on earth?” I mumble, leaping up from my chair and racing across my office.

“Was that a bird?” Elliot asks.

“No,” I frown, looking down to the ground below, “it’s my assistants.” I open the window and call down to them. “What are you two doing, and why have you got nearly half of the squad with you?”

“The defensive unit wanted to talk to you, but didn’t want to all come up to your office at the same time,” Zlatan Bajramović shouts. “Kevin had the idea to try and knock on your window to get your attention.”

“You haven’t lost your passing skills then, Kev,” I say.

“Oh, I have,” Kevin replies, picking up the ball that, presumably, was responsible for my little fright. “I hit the wrong ones four times before I gave up and got Ed to do it - which he did, first time.” Edwin Zamudio gives me a thumbs up.

“So, what do you want?”

“We’re a little concerned over how you’ve treated Cardo Makengo recently,” Luca Netz explains.

“Because he wanted to leave for Liverpool, then Manchester City, and I didn’t let him either time?” I ask.

“Exactly.”

“Perhaps that’s because he has a bright future here and I won’t be strong-armed into letting him leave on the cheap?” I retort.

“What about Abderrazak Talbi?” Tanguy Nianzou asks. “Why wouldn’t you let him leave on loan for regular minutes?”

“Because he’s going to get more chances this season, if he’s patient, especially as Dan-Axel’s going to turn 30 at the end of the season and I’ll start to get itchy over his place as a regular at that point - nothing personal though, Dan-Axel.”

“No hard feelings,” Dan-Axel Zagadou acknowledges with a smile. The defenders then whisper amongst themselves for a moment, before breaking back out of their huddle.

“Yeah, not sure we’re happy with those explanations, Boss,” Tariq Lamptey declares.

“Well, they’re the ones you’re getting,” I snap.

“We think you should give them what they want, or be prepared to lose them,” Miloš Šarac states.

“Then it’s a good job none of you are in charge, or we’d be trying to defend the Champions League with a side made up of six professionals and a few blokes from down the pub each week,” I bark, slamming the window shut.

Mason and Elliot stare at me in silence, both clearly very unsure of what to do.

“As I said, making sure every member of the squad is on the same page is crucial.”

​

Eintracht Braunschweig have struggled on their return to the Bundesliga after 13 seasons of bouncing around the second and third tiers, not picking up a point from their opening three games, and it isn’t particularly hard to see why after my first ever trip to the Eintracht-Stadion.

Despite making five changes from our win before the international break and looking limper than three-week old lettuce from the supermarket, we’re still completely in charge against Die Löwen, opening the scoring in the eleventh minute through, of all people, Makengo when he drills in the rebound of Jesper Lindstrøm’s blocked shot, and we proceed to coast through the remainder of the match, never looking overly threatening again, but having very little to deal with from our timid hosts.

* * * * * * * *​

 

[Chonky Panda Tactics]

Having won three European titles in a row, this season presents the first opportunity for me to try and defend the crown I’ve claimed with my team as we kick off the Champions League league phase at Borussia-Park this Wednesday, against the familiar opposition of RB Leipzig.

Aiming to get off to a strong start to a difficult set of fixtures, those players that were rested at the weekend are restored to the starting lineup, whilst last campaign’s Champions League Goalkeeper of the Season, Oliver Christensen, deputises for Gregor Kobel in goal.

​

We look set to tear through our visitors after Dominik Szoboszlai opens the scoring 22 seconds in, backing up that line of thinking by continuing to threaten Leipzig’s goal over the rest of the opening period, with Nicolò Tresoldi netting but finding himself marginally offside, before he and Zagadou both hit the post later. For all intents and purposes, we should be fairly content with how things are going by the interval.

Except for the fact that Zinedine Zidane’s men have had a single shot, which they scored.

This setback, however, only seems to motivate my boys to try even after the restart and, if not for some stunning goalkeeping by Samuel Galindo, we’d have scored far more than just Tresoldi’s goal that came four minutes after the restart - but, fortunately, that’s all we needed to get off to a winning start in Europe.

* * * * * * * *
​

“There’s something that makes me feel uncomfortable about Stuttgart,” I state, staring at their name on my whiteboard.

“Would that be the treatment the team and you received when we went to the city for the Europa League final?” Alexis Geiler asks from behind me.

“No, it’s the name,” I say, spinning my chair to face her. “Four ‘t’s just seems like too many, you know?”

“It’s the right amount,” Alexis shrugs.

“I know, it just feels off, proportionally.”

“44 per cent of the word?”

“Yes.”

“What about the word ‘giggle’?” Alexis asks. “That’s 50 per cent ‘g’.”

“It’s shorter though,” I reason.

“Okay, how about ‘taramasalata’?”

“No, that feels fine,” I mumble, turning back around. “Maybe it’s the positioning of the ‘t’s, or perhaps them being different heights to the other letters?”

“I think this is something you’ll have to work out on your own,” Alexis says. Although I can’t see her, I can practically feel her eyes rolling in exasperation. “Just make sure to beat them so I don’t have to hear any more about this until the return trip next year.”

​

Our visitors looked optimistic for the opening eight minutes, their decent return to the Bundesliga giving them confidence that they could stand up to the Deutscher Meister and possibly sneak a point or three.

Then their goalkeeper, Daniel Peretz, is forced off through injury and things go south for Die Schwaben astonishingly quickly.

Two minutes after Aaron Kohli comes on, he’s picking Krystian Bielik’s lashed half-volley out of his net, seven minutes later he misses Lamptey’s low cross to gift Tresoldi the easiest goal he’ll ever score, and eight minutes after that the substitute ‘keeper again doesn’t cover himself in much glory when Nicolò squeezes his second through a gap at the front post that really shouldn’t have been there as we dominate the opening period.

Within seconds of the restart, we conspire to concede our first league-goal of the campaign in hilariously shambolic fashion as Zamudio dribbles out towards the left flank, before failing to look when attempting to pass more than half of the way across the pitch to Šarac, allowing William Bøving to nail an, admittedly majestic, first-time strike into the top-left corner from 25 yards. Far from a comeback, however, Stuttgart’s goal is merely a blip as Tresoldi soon claims his hat-trick to restore our three-goal lead in similar fashion to his first of the day, before we round off the rout with a classic: a near-post corner, nutted in by Nianzou.

* * * * * * * *
​

Despite our midweek off, I decide by the time the following weekend of action rolls around to name a starting eleven with seven changes from the one that romped past Stuttgart. My hope is, having made few changes from game to game over the opening month or so, some of the players in bigger need of a rest will be energised for our Champions League fixture at Anfield in three days by missing out here, at Nürnberg, given our hosts have struggled to get going this season after their tremendous achievement of retaining their Bundesliga status last campaign.

Let’s hope my squad players can step up to the plate.

​

The silence of my players in the dressing room is unlike any I’ve witnessed before, the rumbling bass of the gleeful Nürnberg team’s music coming through the wall from next door the soundtrack to their sorrow - this time, the rotation was too much.

Having laboured through much of the 90, a misplaced pass from Franky Hilgers allowed Sékou Koïta to slide through Shinta Appelkamp to drill under Kobel with only five minutes remaining, winning our hosts the match - and it must be said: they deserved to.

After 41 domestic fixtures without loss, losing to the team who started the day second from bottom of the Bundesliga stings.

“Does anyone have anything they want to say?” I ask, much more quietly and softly than I thought I was going to.

“Sorry,” Franky mumbles, after most of the boys had shaken their heads.

“It happens, Franky - just look at Edwin last week” I shrug. “The only difference is nobody was able to bail you out this time. As long as you learn from it, that’s all I can ask of you now. Anyone else?” Nothing. “Fine, I’ll leave you to stew then, I don’t need to make you feel worse. As always, we’ll review things away from the emotion of the match tomorrow, but remember: don’t sulk - we have to bounce back from this.”

As I walk towards the manager’s office, Kevin stops me.

“Is that it, Gaffer? You’re not going to lay into them?”

“Most of those players are young and still not fully accustomed to playing top-level football, I don’t want to damage their confidence,” I admit. “I'll have words with the more senior players tomorrow.”

“Why not now?”

“Because I don’t go over the top immediately after we win, so why should I when we lose?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. Kevin nods to show his understanding. “Right then, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go and smack my head into a wall in private now, thank you.”

* * * * * * * *​

 

[Chonky Panda Tactics]

I’ve grown accustomed to my Fohlen bouncing back from each of our losses at the first opportunity, however my return to Britain to face Liverpool in the Champions League will be the biggest test yet of our ability to recover from defeat.

Having, regretfully, made a raft of changes at the weekend, I restore all of the first-team regulars to the outfield in the knowledge that, should we not win, that slip up on Sunday will have been for nought.

​

In an evenly matched contest, as it so often is when I face The Reds, the difference boils down to my wing-backs, Szoboszlai, and a big chunk of luck.

First, Dominik’s corner is headed back out towards the left by Dani Vivian and collected by Lamptey, but rather than immediately cross the ball back in, the Ghana international dribbles inside, beats three men, then rifles into the top-right from the corner of the six-yard box to break the deadlock. Then, after our hosts had looked more threatening post-interval, it’s the Hungarian’s turn to receive the ball from a set piece when Netz finds him five yards from the edge of the area. Szoboszlai lines himself up and cracks a speculative effort through most of the crowd, however it takes a huge deflection off of Birmingham City alumnus Jude Bellingham’s left foot to whizz over Alisson’s body and into the back of the net for an own goal. Was he deliberately doing a favour for the manager that brought unprecedented success to his boyhood club? Probably not, but the end result is the same as if he did: all the energy sapped from our hosts as we cruise through to the final whistle and an important three points.

It’s not pretty, it’s not dominant, but it’s exactly what we needed.

* * * * * * * *
​

Initial recovery made in Europe, we now need to follow up in the Bundesliga as mid-table Hertha travel to Borussia-Park on Saturday evening.

With the international break to come and keen to not fall foul of the same mistake I made against Nürnberg, I decide to keep changes to a minimum this time as Kobel is restored in goal and Izet Kullaj comes in for his first league-start in white as Šarac recovers from a slight knock picked up in training.

​

“Comprehensive,” Kevin proudly declares as we walk back down the tunnel. “A goal after 17 seconds is one thing, but two in three minutes for Nicolò is something else. And what was Manu doing scoring two goals in the second half?” he laughs. “The numbers must have been pretty favourable, right?”

“One-sided is a fair assessment,” Zlatan grins. “Back in form.”

“Maybe, but how did Bayern get on?” I ask.

“Uhhhh, they won,” Kevin frowns, putting his phone back in his pocket.

“Then let’s calm down, because we’re still three points off the top, and Van Nistelrooij’s men already don’t look likely to be slipping up as often as they did last season.

“We’ve got a big fight on our hands for the title.”

* * * * * * * *​

Thank you for reading! A link to my socials and my previous story can be found on my Linktree, and please follow the thread to be updated every time there's a new post!

 

[dporter8999]

I was starting to forget what a loss felt like for your side, the chase is on!

 

[gee_simpson]

Been catching up with this whole series, great job! I also manage in Germany right now (Leverkusen), and we have won the Bundesliga 2 seasons in a row now.

I noticed for you in season two - chapter thirteen, you spent loads (250m+) and sold a fair amount too. I'm thinking of going through with this in my own save with Leverkusen but it feels kinda wrong to me considering how unrealistic it is .

But then I'm thinking, it's just a game, so why not? If I can raise the money, then why not spend big? I'm basically looking at a £270m spend with around £400m in sales, which would mean I would have a healthy net profit anyways.

Thoughts?

 

[Chonky Panda Tactics]

Part Twenty-Eight​

Welcome back to Foal From Grace! It's quite possibly the most intense week of matches we've ever had this week - can we come out on top in all of them?

This part is spread across multiple posts, so make sure to catch all six games!

Series Links

​

“No.”

“Please?”

“I said no, Nicole.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not turning up at my parents’ house with the Borussia Mönchengladbach manager the night before they play Die Adler,” Alexis Geiler scowls as she puts on her charcoal-coloured coat in our hotel’s lobby, flicking her blonde braid out from the collar once she does. “Unless, of course, you fancy being returned to your wife in several pieces?”

“I’m sure I’d get over it,” Beth shrugs.

“Love you too,” I mutter. Beth grins at me and kisses me on the cheek.

“Why are you so keen to meet my family?” Alexis asks.

“Because you can see exactly why someone’s brain is programmed to work the way it does by spending time with the people they lived with, and it’s fascinating,” I explain. “Plus, I’m very nosy and want to hear all the embarrassing stories from your childhood.”

“Well, it’s not happening, so let it go,” Alexis says, firmly. “Have a good evening, I’ll see you in the morning.” With that, Alexis walks through the automatic doors and out into the hustle and bustle of Frankfurt on a Friday night.

“I hope she has fun,” Beth says as we turn and slowly walk back into the heart of the hotel.

“I hope so too, it takes a lot for her to miss movie night,” I agree.

“Do you think she really wants to see her parents, though, or does she just feel obligated to?” Beth asks.

“I think it brings her a degree of comfort to be able to see them,” I say.

“I’m glad she’s able and happy to, if that’s the case,” Beth smiles, “not everyone is fortunate enough to be a part of a family that gets along.”

“Absolutely,” I say, reciprocating the smile. “Speaking of family, here are the kids,” I add as we reach the table in the lobby my assistants have claimed. Zlatan Bajramović is on his laptop in an armchair, while Kevin Nolan is sprawled out over one of the adjacent sofas.

“Evening, Mum and Mum,” Kevin says.

“Comfy?”

“Very.”

“I can tell,” I laugh, sitting down with Beth on the sofa opposite. “I’d still rather you sat up straight when you’re representing the club in public.”

“But Zlats is watching naughty videos, why aren’t you telling him off?” Kevin asks, creakily sitting up.

“That’s a lie,” Zlatan mutters. “I’m rewatching the Tottenham and Sunderland documentaries to see if there’s a common theme with the way people are portrayed and whether I need to change the way I behave as a result.”

“Like I said: naughty videos.”

“Maybe they are to an ex-West Ham and Newcastle player, but I don’t have a problem with him watching them,” I chuckle. “In all seriousness, Zlatan, don’t be so worried about it. There’s not that much focus on the staff as a whole and you’ll probably make more of a fool of yourself by trying to act like someone you’re not.”

“So, you’re not made uncomfortable by CPTV+’s presence?” Zlatan asks.

“I’m extremely uncomfortable, and it’s really thrown my routines out of whack,” I admit. “I just don’t want to make things even worse by having to pretend I’m something other than my authentic self too.”

“That’s what I said, but he’s still panicking,” Kevin says.

“It’s not worth the stress, Zlatan,” I say. “We all love your company, that should give you enough confidence to just be yourself.”

“Thanks,” Zlatan says, managing a weak smile of relief. “They aren’t filming now, though, are they? I’d rather not have all of this anxiety coming into the public eye.”

“I had them sign a contract with Beth that prevents them from filming any content with her in, so we should be fine,” I say.

“The only images of my face that I’ll allow to be captured are selfies I take myself,” Beth declares.

“Is that why you two hang out together so much then?” Kevin asks.

“We spend time together because we’re married,” I answer, slightly incredulous.

“Right, course, thanks,” Kevin says, like I’d reminded him that he needed to get milk from the shops on the way home, rather than of Beth’s and my marital status. Clearly blissfully unaware of this, he then changes the course of the discussion entirely. “Have you decided on a film for tonight, by the way? If not, can I pick one? I’ve not chosen before.”

“Depends, what did you have in mind?”

“I was thinking we could watch The Graduate,” Kevin suggests.

“Sure,” I say. “If you put it in the group chat for the squad, we’ll see if they’re up for it.”

Obliging, Kevin types out a message in the team’s WhatsApp group and I watch as the majority of the players, crucially including their captain, Krystian Bielik, react happily. Then, Alexis replies with several upset emojis before adding: “I nominate Kevin to be in charge of movie nights from now on.”

“It’s official, Kev,” I beam, “you have approval from the queen of movies.”

“In that case, you can call me ‘Sir Kevin’ from now on.”

“No one’s going to be doing that,” I say.

“I will, Sir Kevin,” Beth grins, making him produce a very smug smirk.

“Don’t encourage him,” I groan.

“What can I say? Encouraging things that make people happy and annoy you slightly is my speciality.”

“Remind me to stop bringing you on these trips.”

​

I don’t think I’ve ever been to a football match before where neither team has a single onside shot in the first half, however I now have at Deutsche Bank Park and, as a result, finally understand what it must feel like to listen to me regurgitate my unusual amount of knowledge about Roman numerals.

Fortunately, my players have had that lecture before and are not keen to repeat it for, effectively, a third time after the restart, coming out with a newfound zip to their play that results in Nicolò Tresoldi being denied superbly by Noah Atubolu, only for Miloš Šarac to power in from the resulting corner to break the deadlock.

From there, our superiority only grows. It isn’t long before Šarac has his second, belting a cracking finish in off of the underside of the crossbar from the edge of the box, and soon Tresoldi has nodded in our third to end any lingering hopes our hosts may have had over avoiding defeat.

Though Fabricio Díaz does nab a late consolation that at least gives Alexis something to celebrate, the Geiler household will not be a happy one as Die Fohlen head home to Mönchengladbach with all three points.

* * * * * * * *​

 

[Chonky Panda Tactics]

After his brace in Frankfurt, things keep getting better for Miloš over the weekend as he’s announced as the World Under-21 Player of the Year, and it’s hard to think of anyone more deserving of the accolade.

Mainly because I’m incredibly biassed, but I don’t see how that’s relevant.

​

He might well be coming crashing down to earth by Wednesday, however, as the Premier League Champions are coming to visit.

After resting travel-weary Tariq Lamptey and Dan-Axel Zagadou, it’s back to full strength - this is an English team in the Champions League, after all. That said, Manchester City have been a difficult team to predict recently, having bounced up and down England’s top division like a very slow stop-motion video of a sky-blue space hopper, finishing ninth in my last season at Birmingham, then second, then top, only to now be down in eighth when they rock up in Germany, so goodness knows what to expect from the Max Allegri’s Cityzens and the ever-terrifying Erling Haaland.

After conceding headers from corners in almost half of my meetings with them previously, I’d suggest at least one of those.

​

27 minutes in, Aymeric Laporte clatters in a header at a corner and I start quietly sobbing in the dugout - all that extra work done on defending set pieces was clearly wasted.

We’re lifeless both before and after conceding, not that City are much better themselves, but a half-time switch to our 4-3-3 breathes life into our performance and we start thriving, nobody more so than Luca Netz who tees up Manu Koné to blast in an equaliser from the D, before working himself an opening on the left in injury time and clipping a cross to the back post for Ian Maatsen to head in and send Borussia-Park delirious.

City aren’t willing to take that lying down though. There’s still another four minutes of added time to play and they come rampaging forward like a colony of ants that’ve found a discarded doughnut, winning a corner almost immediately after kicking off, at which point I beckon Jesper Lindstrøm over to me.

“Right, Jesper, I want you to pass these instructions on to the rest of the boys after the corner,” I request, handing over my scribbled, stodgy instructions.

“Not right now?” the Dane asks.

“Let’s see where this goes first,” I say. Jesper nods and jogs back towards his position in the centre circle, reaching his mark just as the set piece is swirled to the front post and Ruben Dias glances it past Oliver Christensen to level only two minutes after we thought we’d won the tie.

Jesper looks at me.

I frown at Jesper.

Jesper rips up the piece of paper I gave him.

Two points dropped.

* * * * * * * *
​

It’s always important to respond positively to disappointment, but we’re going to need to recover even faster than usual as it’s soon the weekend and Bayern Munich are rolling into town.

Ruud van Nistelrooij has a perfect record in the Bundesliga so far and seems to have the juggernauts performing at their best again, so the only option is to name the same outfield that started on Wednesday and hope that reducing the intensity of training and not having to travel away from home during the week as Bayern did can give us the edge.

Van Nistelrooij’s 100 per cent record in the Bundesliga, or my unbeaten record at Borussia-Park - something’s got to give.

​

It’s seems we’re in for another instalment in what’s becoming a streak of poor-quality opening periods, but the tedium is broken by Dominik Szoboszlai doing what’s becoming a habit for him in games of the biggest magnitude: pelting free kicks into the top corner from unquestionably audacious range.

I’m ready for Bayern to rally, to live up to their enduring aura of inevitability, but our own aura that’s been growing since our emergence as a dominant force in German football is now strong enough to surpass that of our guests, especially at Borussia-Park, and it’s enough to slowly crush our visitors’ resolve.

Although Marc-Andre ter Stegen manages to thwart Netz when the wing-back finds himself ten yards out and with time to pick his spot, there’s nothing Bayern’s ‘keeper can do to prevent Lindstrøm’s massively deflected strike from finding the bottom-right corner minutes later, and soon Tresoldi nonchalantly prods Bielik’s cross in from close range to extend our advantage to an unassailable three.

As the final whistle goes, we find ourselves back on top of the Bundesliga, and without even needing Gregor Kobel to make a save.

* * * * * * * *
​

Off the back of two draining games for my first-choice outfield, what we could do with is a relatively stress-free tie in the DFB-Pokal against a lower-division team. Ordinarily, I’d suggest that our trip to Greuther Fürth on Tuesday is exactly that, however their presence in last season’s final means I’m far more nervous than usual. That doesn’t stop me from fielding a completely changed eleven from the Bayern game, though, with a Rhein Derby on the horizon and my regulars in need of a rest, so I’ve got to hope that Fürth’s excellent run last time out was just a blip.

​

“How could our best eleven only beat this lot 2-0 last season, but the Backup Brigade can cruise to a 3-1 victory with ease this time out?” I ask my assistants as the clock runs down.

“Cup finals make players act in unusual ways,” Kevin shrugs. “A win’s a win, at the end of the day.”

“Our underlying offensive numbers were actually better back in May, so clearly the standard of our finishing and/or their goalkeeping was the main difference,” Zlatan explains. “We were actually better defensively today though, which is a little surprising.”

“Yet, we managed to concede a pathetic own goal,” Kevin snorts, referencing Abderrazak Talbi slicing a slow and aimless cross past Christensen, despite being under no pressure whatsoever. “Do you think Raz did it because he’s unhappy at the moment?”

“That’s a pretty astonishingly stupid way to claim you deserve more game time, proving yourself nervous and error prone against a 2. Bundesliga side that are about as threatening as wet toilet paper,” I grumble.

“You sure don’t like having your judgement questioned, for somebody who always does as their wife says,” Kevin teases.

“You seem to have missed a crucial detail there, Kevin,” I say. “Whilst I may be an excellent football manager, I’m a woefully inept human being.”

* * * * * * * *​

 

[Chonky Panda Tactics]

With last campaign’s finalists vanquished, we don’t have to wait long to find out our opponents for the last-16 stage: Hamburg. Coincidentally, the third opponent out of three this season that I’ll have now faced twice in the competition since moving to Germany.

​

But the next round of the Pokal is months away - all eyes are on this weekend’s trip to Köln for the first Rhein Derby of 2028/29.

Having had a whole week off, my strongest eleven is raring to go as I refuse to even consider playing any kind of rotated side against our rivals.

​

I can scarcely believe what I’m watching.

Over the course of an utterly unmissable opening 45, we make mincemeat of Die Geißböcke, rattling in four goals without reply. Szoboszlai taps in Tresoldi’s pull-back, then the roles are reversed for our second, before we mix things up a little when Tariq Lamptey smashes in a third after being played clean through, ahead of Dan-Adel Zagadou nutting in the fourth at a corner on the eve of half-time.

Yes, we ease off after the restart with an eye on our Champions League fixture on Wednesday. Yes, this allows Köln more opportunities. Yes, I’m annoyed that we don’t keep a clean sheet. And yes, although Moise Kean didn’t score, he still got an assist because he obviously had to be involved somehow. But do I really care about all of this?

Do I ‘eck.

That first-half embarrassment of our great rivals is all that anyone associated with either club will be talking about for a while to come.

* * * * * * * *
​

“Are you sure you’re ready to rotate again? You’re not still traumatised from the Nürnberg match?” Alexis asks, studying my potential lineup.

“I don’t have much of a choice,” I grimace. “Shakhtar Donetsk are bottom of the horrible Champions League league, we’re still recovering from Saturday, and we’ve got Dortmund to come at the weekend. I haven’t gone too crazy this time, though - only five changes.”

“Including Cardo Makengo, I see,” Alexis notes.

“Now that he’s finally gotten over his frustrations and agreed a new contract here, I’m more willing to trust him in the bigger games,” I say.

​

“Sounds reasonable, however I’m not sure about him leading the line,” Alexis says, gesturing to Mark Barber’s name.

“‘Him’?”

“I can’t remember his name, he brings too much shame to Patrick Herrmann’s number seven.”

“Don’t you dare bring up Flaco again.”

​

Managerless Shakhtar’s presence at the foot of the Champions League becomes more understandable once we kick off. Our visitors look nervous, severely lacking in confidence as we cruise through the opening period in second gear and take a 2-0 lead into the dressing room with us via another beautiful Šarac thunderbolt off of the underside of the bar and a Barber tap-in from Maatsen’s daisy-cutting cross, allowing me to risk making a couple of changes with that big game at the weekend to come that’ll presumably result in a slight decrease to our intensity and entertainment value.

But what follows our reemergence onto the Borussia-Park pitch is a half of absolute destruction.

After Barber had coolly slotted in his second when through one-on-one, a five-minute flurry shortly after the hour mark sees Liam Heywood leap over a metre off of the ground to hit an astonishing volley in next, before Barber nets a penalty for his hat-trick and then a header from Makengo’s back-post cross for his fourth. Just as things seem to have settled down and be slowly trundling towards the final whistle, however, who should pop up to belt in off of the crossbar from the edge of our area to make it 7(SEVEN)-0? That’s right, Barber again.

For the first time ever, I watch a side of mine put seven past an opponent.

For the first time ever, I watch a player of mine score five in a single match.

Remember this night - this might just be the night a star was born.

* * * * * * * *​

Thank you for reading! A link to my socials and my previous story can be found on my Linktree, and please follow the thread to be updated every time there's a new post!

 

[dporter8999]

A very good run considering the importance of the games, and 7 goals is just simply mental!

Also, surely this will be in every Football Managers bedroom!

 

[Chonky Panda Tactics]

Part Twenty-Nine​

Welcome back to Foal From Grace! Things get a little uncomfortable when I start asking some... unusual questions.

This part is spread across multiple posts, so make sure to catch all six games!

Series Links

​

“Do you ever wish that you could just take off all of your skin, muscles, tendons, and whatnot, and just scrub your skeleton with a wire brush?”

Alexis Geiler puts down the textbook she was reading and stares at me from across the office for several seconds.

“What the fu-”

“I mean, I don’t want to be separated from my bones permanently,” I continue, “but imagine doing the inside of your skull, having a proper clean out. I’d feel SO refreshed.”

Alexis continues to stare at me with a look on her face that is either disgust, confusion, or a bit of both.

“I just think it would feel REALLY good, y’know?”

“No, I don’t know,” she says. “That’s a horrifying concept.”

“Is it?”

“Of course it is,” Alexis states, shaking her head. “Honestly, Nicole, you say the weirdest things sometimes.”

“You don’t know if something’s weird until you get someone else’s opinion,” I suggest. “Maybe it’s a normal idea, but everyone’s too concerned that they’ll be judged for sharing it, so nobody will ever find out unless someone vocalises these things.”

“You thought that enjoying skinning yourself and scrubbing your skeleton was a perfectly reasonable - and common - thing for people to think?”

“I had no reason to think otherwise,” I shrug, making Alexis roll her eyes just as Kevin Nolan walks in. “Kev, what do you think?”

“Hm?”

“If you could temporarily remove the meat from your frame and go at your bones with a wire brush, would you?”

“No, what a horrifying concept,” Kevin frowns. “You wanted to see me?”

“As a general rule, yes, but not at this specific time for any reason,” I say, puzzled.

“Then why -” Kevin stops his train of thought when my other assistant, Zlatan Bajramović, enters too. “Alright, Zlats?”

“All good, thank you,” he responds. “What did you want us here for, Bossin?”

“She wants to ask you a weird question,” Kevin says.

“Really? Alright then, ask away.”

“That wasn’t why you’re here, I don’t actually know why,” I admit. “As you are here though, if you could strip everything from your skeleton to give it a good scrub, would you?”

“No.”

“Even if you can put all your flesh back on afterwards, unscathed?”

“Still no. It’s a horrifying concept.”

“I’m starting to get that impression.”

In case my office wasn’t crowded enough, Mason Tomlinson and Elliot Vale now appear through the doorway, lugging their recording equipment with them.

“Hey, guys, if you could -”

“Stop, Nicole. Just stop,” Alexis sighs, then turning her attention to the CPTV+ pair. “What are you two doing here?”

“Yeah, why did you tell Zlats and me that the boss wanted to see us?” Kevin frowns.

“That may have been a slight lie,” Elliot says, trying to look apologetic but failing miserably. “We were the ones who wanted to have you all in Nicole’s office, so that we could have you all in a slightly different environment than usual, keep the content for the documentary fresh, y’know?”

“Excuse me, it’s not just Nicole’s office, it’s mine too,” Alexis points out.

“Does it matter?” Mason asks.

“Of course,” Alexis snaps. “If she and I had a child together and we were both present whilst you were talking about them, you wouldn’t refer to them as exclusively Nicole’s child, would you?”

I unsuccessfully try to stifle a laugh, causing Alexis to glare at me. “Sorry, Lexi, I simply find the idea of me being responsible enough to raise a human incredibly amusing.”

“Yet you’re involved in the vast majority of the decisions that will dictate the success or failure of a business that turns over hundreds of millions of euros every year.”

“So?”

“We’re going off on a tangent here,” Kevin grumbles. “Point is, you two lured us here under false pretences and expect us to go ahead with your ideas?”

“We only want a little footage, like you talking about the changes from the Shakhtar lineup for the Dortmund match tomorrow, for example,” Mason says.

“What, like saying that Oliver Christensen, Miloš Šarac, Cardo Makengo, Krystian Bielik, Ian Maatsen, Liam Heywood, and Dominik Szoboszlai are dropping out, to be replaced by Gregor Kobel, Tanguy Nianzou, Tariq Lamptey, Franky Hilgers, Luca Netz, Michel Vermeulen, and Jesper Lindstrøm?” Zlatan asks.

“Exactly,” Mason beams. “Would you mind saying that again, but once we’ve got the camera and microphones set up, please?”

“Sorry, that was your one chance,” Kevin snarls. “Come on, Zlats.” With that, Kevin puts his arm around Zlatan’s shoulders and leads him from the room, barging past Mason and Elliot in the process.

“Guess it’s just the two of you then,” Elliot sighs.

“Just Nicole, I’m afraid,” Alexis says, standing up. “You must excuse me, I need to use the facilities and I have to change my pad too, so who knows how long I’ll be?”

“Where do you get new notepads from, out of curiosity? I’ve nearly filled my current one” Mason asks.

“Not that kind of pad,” Alexis says, smiling very pointedly. “See you in a while.”

“Ah…” Mason mumbles, the penny dropping as my colleague glides out of the room.

“What is everyone’s problem with us?” Elliot asks nobody in particular.

“Perhaps, and this is a totally wild guess,” I start, fully aware of everyone’s feelings, “it’s because you’ve turned up without doing a great deal of research and immediately set about trying to order people around, just to get the content you want. You’ve not spent time getting to know the club, nor the people who work here, but you see fit to disrupt everybody’s routines and even trick people into going where you want them to go, then wonder why people are annoyed by you - who do you think you are?”

“We have a contract,” Elliot shrugs.

“Yeah, to record a behind-the-scenes documentary, not to run the club,” I snap. Realising my tone, I soften it before continuing. “Look, I know you’re working hard to make the best show possible, but you’re trying to force scenarios that just don't happen, and it’s putting people on edge. If you want your documentary to be as in-depth and fascinating as possible, you need people to be relaxed and willing to share with you, so just let things flow a bit more naturally, okay?”

“You have a point,” Elliot mumbles.

“She does, so all we can say is that we’re sorry, and we’ll do our best to improve,” Mason states. Elliot nods in agreement.

“That’s all I ask - give people the chance to shine on their own,” I smile. “Now, I’ve got a bit of time if you don’t want to have hauled all of that up here for nothing.”

“Thank you, Nicole, that’d be great,” Mason says, beginning to unpack his recording equipment.

“When we came in, Nicole,” Elliot starts, having joined in the setting-up process, “you went to ask us a question, but got cut off - what was it?”

“You know what?” I laugh. “Don’t worry about it.

“I get the impression it was actually quite a horrifying concept.”

​

I used to fear Borussen Derbies with Dortmund, but when our rise to dominance is combined with their inability to replace Kobel adequately, there now only seems to be one way that things will play out.

Having maintained his place in the starting lineup after his six-goal-involvement spectacular during the week, Mark Barber continues his astonishing few days by setting up Lindstrøm for our first, before being released superbly by Vermeulen’s pinpoint pass from deep to bear down on goal and stroke past the helpless Axel Vetter in Die Schwarzgelben’s goal to get on the scoresheet himself.

We keep pushing for more in the second half, only to be denied by the woodwork on several occasions, but it matters for nought as we sail past the lesser Borussia and into the international break in imperious form.

* * * * * * * *​

 

[Chonky Panda Tactics]

I hate playing Wolfsburg. Not because they’re intimidating, not because I lose to them, neither of those statements would be true, it’s simply because Illan Meslier seems committed to giving me a stress-induced heart attack every time we meet by putting on a goalkeeping clinic.

In order to try and get the better of the excellent Frenchman, Nicolò Tresoldi is brought into the lineup for Szoboszlai in one of several fitness-based changes - some regulars have recovered over the international break, some are fatigued from travelling - as I hope the extra firepower will be enough to help our journey north-eastwards be a comfortable experience.

​

The first half isn’t quite as bad as the Frankfurt trip, but it’s not far off. Even switching to our 4-3-3 at the break makes little difference, so I make another alteration to our shape as we change to a narrow 4-1-3-2, with Bielik dictating play from behind a trio of midfielders.

NOW we start looking like a threat.

With Die Wölfe unsure of how to cope with our newly unveiled tactic, we take charge, slowly building momentum and creating progressively bigger chances until the pressure finally becomes too much for our hosts to handle when Netz drives a cutting cross into their area from the left that Barber, having lost his marker at the front post, casually flicks over Meslier with the outside of his boot, seeing the ball nestle gently in the corner of the net at the back post for what would turn out to be the only goal we needed to secure all three points.

* * * * * * * *
​

Turns out our victory was just the start of the excitement in the Bundesliga at the weekend. After that result, the Wolfsburg board finally lose patience with André Villas-Boas and decide to sack the Portuguese with Die Weißgrünen in 14th, Eintracht Braunschweig pick up their first point at the 12th attempt when they went to 17th-placed Stuttgart in the late kick-off, and, most significantly to us, Bayern Munich were stunned by Schalke, losing 2-0 at the Allianz on Sunday to FINALLY give us a little room to breathe at the top of the table.

But none of that matters right now - we’ve got a trip to the Bernabéu to contend with.

Having won one, drawn one, and lost one in each of my previous visits to Madrid, it’s difficult to predict exactly what’s going to happen, though there’s a running theme of my goalkeepers having to have absolute blinders in order to keep the most decorated club in Champions League history from running away with the match, so all eyes will be on Christensen as I predictably name the strongest outfield-ten possible in front of him.

​

“I don’t understand why - actually, don’t worry,” Zlatan says, shaking his head as we walk back down the tunnel at full-time after a heavily one-sided 0-0.

“No, go on, tell me,” I request.

“It’s fine, it’s probably not my place to say what I thought.”

“I always want you to share your thoughts, you aren’t employed to have the exact same opinions as me.”

“I’m okay, honestly.”

“Stop me if I’m wrong, Zlats, but I reckon he was going to say that he doesn’t understand why we always struggle so much when playing away at title contenders,” Kevin says, Zlatan’s nod confirming our colleague’s assessment.

“I hadn’t thought about that before,” I say, stopping in the corridor. “Chelsea, PSG, Juventus, Barcelona, Real Madrid, and three times at Bayern - we didn’t win any of them. Maybe we need to look into doing something about that tactically, work out how to take the game to the teams with stronger squads than ours.”

“I can start working through the data and see where we’re going wrong, try and avoid the same pitfalls?” Zlatan suggests.

“Thank you, Zlatan.”

“Alternatively,” Kevin says, slowly, “we can be positive that we only lost one of those matches and rely on Borussia-Park magic to carry us to silverware, saving ourselves a lot of work.”

Zlatan and I glance at each other.

“You know what, Kevin?” I ask. “I like the sound of that more.”

* * * * * * * *
​

Having successfully navigated our trip to Madrid with the poise of a ferret that’s necked seven cans of Red Bull, it’s somewhat of a relief to be heading back home to play mid-table Hoffenheim at the weekend.

With a free midweek to follow, I can afford to name a stronger lineup than I would usually plan to in other circumstances, though Edwin Zamudio, Vermeulen, and Barber do have to drop out of the starting lineup as they could both do with a break after their major involvement over the last few weeks.

​

If it weren’t for Bielik’s header on the brink of the interval, I’d be deeply frustrated again.

We create a decent number of chances, but few that were worth getting excited over, the biggest coming when Szoboszlai has his shot from Netz’s pull-back blocked on the line by Márton Dárdai. Fortunately, Hoffenheim carried little threat going forward, so our captain finding the scoresheet was enough to claim victory, but we seriously need to rediscover our cutting edge if we want to keep competing with the big boys.

* * * * * * * *​

 

[Chonky Panda Tactics]

Each time we make one of our all-too-rare journeys into what used to be East Germany, it always gets me thinking. Yes, the region is slowly trying to catch up with the other half of the country, but there are still enough reminders of the former German Democratic Republic’s communist past that it makes RB Leipzig’s cash-laden path to becoming their first Bundesliga representative even more jarring.

As keen as ever to get one over Die Roten Bullen, I name a fairly strong eleven as Zamudio and Vermeulen return, though Netz, Manu Koné, and Szoboszlai are given a break with Champions League action looming once more.

​

“Bleedin’ ‘eck, this is rough,” Kevin sighs as the first minute of added time elapses. “At least you got the ‘cutting edge’ you were after, eh, Boss?”

“Fat lot of good that is when we’ve blown both a 2-0 and 3-2 lead,” I grumble.

“There’s still time, we’re still on top,” Zlatan says.

No sooner than my assistant’s words have left his mouth, Heywood bursts forward from deep, breaks Leipzig’s lines, and plays an excellent ball to Barber on the edge of the box. Mark’s gentle touch is a simple one, but an important one as he weights his pass perfectly for Tresoldi to run onto, not having to break his stride as he leathers into the top-right corner first time, causing all of my bench to leap out of their seats.

“Notepad, notepad!” I shout, through all of the commotion. Kevin runs back to the dugout to fetch my paper and pen, and I start scribbling as fast as I can.

Just as I finish my stodgy instructions, however, I glance up to see Leipzig launch the ball towards our area and I feel an intense sense of dread for a moment, though the pass is aimless and Zamudio heads clear with ease. The loose ball is collected by Lamptey and the right wing-back hares forward, bafflingly full of energy for this stage of the game, before firing an exquisite diagonal for Netz on the left. The German takes one touch to control, another to get the ball out of his feet, and a final one to smash past Samuel Galindo from a tight angle.

I still hand over my instructions, but it means little as we salvage the three points in dramatic fashion.

* * * * * * * *
​

I must admit, Barber’s recent form has left me very conflicted - Tresoldi is an excellent finisher himself, and has done little to warrant being dropped, after all. It’s this guilt, and perhaps Europe’s top clubs sniffing around him, that means I agree to Roland Virkus’ idea of sanctioning a new contract for the Italian, making him the highest-paid player at the club.

Maybe I need to work out how to get both him and Barber in the team together.

​

With his new deal signed, I’m hoping that Nicolò will pay back the faith shown in him at the first opportunity as Chelsea travel to Borussia-Park for our sixth match of the Champions League league phase.

Despite winning the FA Cup last season, Diego Simeone didn’t manage to avoid being sacked for his fifth-placed finish last season, so it’s my successor as Birmingham manager, Stefano Pioli, who’ll be leading The Other Blues against my full-strength side.

​

It doesn’t take long for Tresoldi to celebrate his new contract with a goal, squeezing Szoboszlai’s through ball past Édouard Mendy from the edge of the six-yard box, and we never look back. Szoboszlai nabs one of his own within moments of the restart, and Mendy is forced into a number of smart saves by Lamptey, Tresoldi, and Koné. Then, just in case Chelsea felt reinvigorated by the break at half-time, Vermeulen takes all the wind from their sails by delicately placing his effort into the top-left corner from the edge of their area, nipping any chance of a comeback from the English side in the bud and allowing us to cruise through the remainder of the 90.

Another good result in Europe and with, theoretically, easier ties to come against Sporting and Anderlecht in the new year, our chances of going straight through to the round of 16 look incredibly high.

And one can’t help but feel it’ll take some doing to stop us from going all the way again.

* * * * * * * *​

Thank you for reading! A link to my socials and my previous story can be found on my Linktree, and please follow the thread to be updated every time there's a new post!

 

[Chonky Panda Tactics]

Part Thirty​

Welcome back to Foal From Grace! A new year dawns, but will it bring any change to our fortunes?

This part is spread across multiple posts, so make sure to catch all six games!

Series Links

​

“Morning, gents,” I say as Mason Tomlinson and Elliot Vale walk into the breakfast room at our hotel in Mainz.

“Morning. You’re all up early,” Mason says, noting the empty plates of Kevin Nolan, Zlatan Bajramović, and myself.

“Too excited to sleep in, what with Bayern losing at Freiburg yesterday and all,” Kevin explains.

“It’s a relief to know it wasn’t just a dream again, to be honest,” Zlatan smiles.

“‘Again’?” Elliot asks.

“It happens all the time,” I sigh. “Zlatan meets us for breakfast, all excited about a match he THINKS has played out in our favour, only to realise he imagined the whole thing.”

“I need to stop reading about football before bed,” Zlatan grimaces.

“No, you just need to check the scores in the morning,” Kevin says.

“That would be a much more enjoyable solution for me.”

“What do you read about? Is it analytical, match reports, fictional?” Mason queries.

“Bit of everything,” Zlatan says. “Anything I can get my hands on, I want to read.”

“Who would read fiction about football, though?” Kevin frowns.

“Several-hundred people read a blog every week where a lady recreates my career on Football Manager,” I answer.

“Why haven’t you sued her yet?” Elliot asks.

“Because I’m not a soulless slug,” I say. “She’s harmless. Ridiculous, and surprisingly accurate, but harmless.”

“Are you recording this so we have evidence against Nicole in the future libel case?” Kevin grins.

“We’re not recording at the moment, no. We’re just trying to get to know everybody a bit better so that you all trust us a bit more,” Mason says, giving me a small smile that I reciprocate.

We all go quiet as Alexis Geiler enters the room, sitting down on the last available seat at our table, appearing thoroughly miserable.

“Shall we talk about Die Adler, Lexi?” I suggest, after nearly a minute had passed. Alexis shakes her head in disgust.

“Die Adler is Eintracht Frankfurt’s nickname, right?” Elliot asks. “Are they your team?”

“Correct, on both accounts,” Alexis says, looking pleasantly surprised.

“Didn’t they -”

“Lose 6-4 to Eintracht Braunschweig yesterday, a team that had one point and six goals from the previous 14 matches in the Bundesliga?” I snigger. “Yes, yes they did.”

“I thought that might have been a dream too,” Zlatan says.

“Seriously, check the scores in the morning,” Kevin repeats. “I’ll even put them on my calendar, if necessary.”

“Unfortunately not, Zlatan,” Alexis sighs. “It was as real as both of Birmingham’s Champions League wins.”

“Urgh,” Elliot grunts.

“You’re not a Villa fan, are you?” I ask.

“No, Liverpool.”

“That’s alright then, glad we don’t have to bin off all of the good work we’ve done over the last few weeks.”

“Finally, something I can appreciate about you, Elliot,” Kevin teases. “And who do you support, Mason?”

“Bolton.”

Kevin stares at Mason for several seconds, without blinking.

“How old are you, Mason?” Kevin quizzes, eventually.

“27, 28 in a few weeks.”

“So you’d have seen me play for Bolton, correct?”

“Well… yeah,” Mason mumbles. “Your overhead kick against Portsmouth in 2005 is one of my earliest footballing-memories.”

“You’ve been here five months and didn’t think to mention this sooner?” Kevin scowls.

“You seemed pretty hostile from the start, I didn’t want you to also think that I’m a suck-up,” Mason reasons.

“That’s actually quite sensible of you, I can appreciate this.”

“Me too,” Zlatan adds. “Similarly, I’ve always presumed that’s why Alexis has never made a big deal out of me ending my playing career in Frankfurt.”

Alexis looks down at her feet.

“Absolutely. It has nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that you had such difficulties with injuries that I struggled to remember your time at the club.”

“Now I understand how Mufasa must have felt in The Lion King.”

​

Mainz have surprised a lot of people so far this season by being up in fourth place as we near the midpoint of the season, and the confidence they’ve gained as a result is apparent as they start brightly, forcing Gregor Kobel into action within the opening quarter of an hour when Jonathan Burkhardt’s ferocious volley requires tipping over the crossbar.

We’ve ridden bigger waves of pressure before, though, and this one, like so many others before it, dissipates the moment Nicolò Tresoldi puts us into the lead. His header is a huge blow to our hosts’ belief, and Dan-Axel Zagadou volleying in his own rebound off of the post at a corner six minutes later is too much to recover from for them, with the final flickers of hope being erased when Tresoldi sweeps in Cardo Makengo’s low cross with just under 20 minutes to go to send us six points clear at the top of the Bundesliga.

* * * * * * * *​

 

[Chonky Panda Tactics]

Hoping to round out 2028 in style, our final fixture of the year brings us home to Borussia-Park, where Bayer Leverkusen will be hoping to upset us before the winter break.

With our visitors having had a rocky season so far, languishing down in tenth, I feel that a near-full-strength eleven should be more than good enough to get the job done and let us have a very merry Christmas.

​

The first half is utterly devoid of excitement, punctuated only by Tariq Lamptey twisting his ankle and being forced off, so it feels logical to switch to our 4-3-3 at the interval, the result of which is… actually, very little. We’re shooting more often, but the chances aren’t improving in quality significantly as it seems all I’ve done is put a new paint job on my engineless car, so I make the risky decision to alter our shape again to a 4-2-3-1 in an attempt to stir up some drama.

And, in a way, it worked.

As it looks like a very disappointing 0-0 is set to meander to its inevitable conclusion, Julien Duranville is spotted with acres of space on our right, bringing a long pass from Piero Hincapié under control with his first touch and attempting to get an early, low cross into the area. It looks like Makengo has done what was required of him when he gets a foot to the ball, but all his touch does is slow it, giving Marcos Leonardo time to catch up to play and stab past Kobel with under a minute and a half of injury time remaining.

I crumple to the ground, folding myself up like a human pamphlet. In my desperation to win, I hadn’t even considered that Bayer would have the temerity to attack. Now, I’m staring down the barrel of a first defeat at home in over three and a half years, my first ever at Borussia-Park.

Or, am I?

Whilst I had given up hope, one thing that can be relied upon is that my boys never do. Straight from kick-off, everyone flies forward, allowing Michel Vermeulen to launch a glorious pass over Die Werkself’s backline for Jesper Lindstrøm to take into his stride. He hits the byline, delivering an enormously tempting ball across the six-yard box and, from one man who can always be relied upon from the bench, it’s the one who can always be relied upon in the box who gets on the end of it as Tresoldi rescues us with only seconds remaining, yet again.

* * * * * * * *
​

It’s a good job we had three weeks off to recover from the Leverkusen game as that, along with Kobel being voted World Goalkeeper of the Year and Makengo winning the European Golden Boy award, was far too much excitement to get over in such a short space of time.

​

But get over it we shall, the first step of which is the disappointment of New Year’s Day rolling around without a single new face coming into the club as all of the targets I have are either too expensive, or not interested in moving mid-season. One piece of transfer news we do have, however, is a departure. Emanuel Emegha, whom one could be forgiven for forgetting was even at the club, is off to Brighton for €34 million.

I have no idea how we’ve made €22 million of profit after two uninspiring half-campaigns that sandwiched a decent loan-spell in the Netherlands, but I shan’t complain.

​

All of which leads us to our first game of 2029 as we travel to Gelsenkirchen to take on second-bottom Schalke.

Despite Schalke’s lowly position, the break has caused a little rustiness to creep into my squad’s legs, so a fairly strong lineup that only omits Zagadou, Manu Koné, and the injured Lamptey is named as we look to get back into the swing of things at the Veltins-Arena.

​

It briefly looks like we’ve never been away, Tresoldi nodding us in front after just 36 seconds, but we fail to maintain that initial quality and we’re soon back on level terms when Yehor Yarmoliuk spanks in an unbelievable strike from nearly 30 yards to knock us completely from our stride.

It takes some time and a change of shape to recover, but we’re soon back in control and creating chances, finally regaining the lead when Keven Schlotterbeck’s poor control in his own area allows Mark Barber to steal in and smash us back into the lead, however this lead lasts even less time as, immediately after play resumes, Pascal Stenzel centres the ball from the right-hand side for Pape Gueye to become the second Schalke player to rifle in from long range.

Time starts to ebb away, however the Leverkusen game has banished any doubts I had about my players’ abilities to recover from set-backs. I don’t panic as we enter the final five minutes of regular time, and I’m right not to as, after Barber rattles the crossbar with his free kick, Miloš Šarac is on hand to tap in the rebound.

I tell my players to sit in and get stodgy, but they have other ideas. Keen to avoid being pegged back again, they keep probing, winning a corner that Luca Netz swings in and, although the initial delivery is returned to him via Schlotterbeck’s head, the second attempt is much better as our left wing-back picks out Barber to stroke in our fourth goal and, finally, put the result beyond doubt.

* * * * * * * *
​

Having grown accustomed to English football’s seemingly constant barrage of cup matches, I still find it novel to only be at the third round of the DFB-Pokal by the turn of the year. It’s refreshing and different, which is not something that can be said about our opponents, Hamburg.

Having played Die Rothosen at the same stage two seasons ago, we now have them making back-to-back trips to Mönchengladbach this week as we’ll face them again at the weekend in the Bundesliga, by which point we’ll hope to be comfortably into the quarter-finals of the Pokal and looking for successive victories.

​

In an increasingly familiar tale, a woeful opening 45 leads to a change of formation at the break, but the result is drastic. Our play starts knitting together beautifully as we look far more cohesive and dangerous, to the point that Hamburg fail to muster a shot after our shift.

Having seized control, the rest of the evening belongs to Ian Maatsen, the Dutchman nabbing one of the easiest goals he’ll ever score by getting on the end of Abderrazak Talbi’s drilled, back-post cross, before turning provider on the eve of injury time by setting Barber free on the counter to get the better of Faaris Yusufu and score the goal that secures our progression into the next round.

* * * * * * * *​

 

[Chonky Panda Tactics]

“It’ll be more of the same we ask for then, eh, Boss?” Kevin says as we go over tactical plans the morning after the first match of our double-header.

“I guess so,” I answer, pinching the base of my pen between my fingers and tapping the tip on the table as I survey our notes. “As much as anyone can ask for more of the same when making six changes, at least.”

“Are we not even going to consider starting with the 4-3-3?” Zlatan queries.

“It has been, and I’m not interested,” I state.

“We thought you might be,” Kevin shrugs.

“Why would that be?”

“Because we keep having to switch to it mid-match and, with Dan-Axel and Tariq off to AFCON, it might suit the players who are still available,” Kevin suggests.

“Alternatively, I can now give some of the defenders that’ve been whinging about their minutes the opportunity to get more time on the pitch, now that two positions have opened up,” I counter.

“Who’s been complaining?” Zlatan questions.

“Take a wild guess,” I laugh.

“Would that be Abderrazak and Izet?”

“Nailed it.”

“How did you get that so quickly?” Kevin frowns. “I knew about Raz, but Izzy is news to me.’

“It’s quite complex,” Zlatan smirks.

“Oh, really?”

“Yes,” Zlatan chuckles, pointing at Abderrazak’s number 25 and Izet Kullaj’s number 26 on the paper in front of me, “Nicole’s clearly pressed down with more force when she wrote both of them.”

“Well I never,” Kevin mumbles. “Good spot.”

“Very impressive,” I nod.

“Also, I overheard them in the dressing room, calling Nicole a witch.”

“Thanks, Zlatan, you could’ve stopped after the first observation.”

​

After all of our recent struggles to get going, a totally different side from Tuesday seems to show up today, totally dominating our guests and taking the lead their control rightly deserves when Tresoldi converts the penalty that’s awarded for Bence Dárdai’s nonsensical handball at one of our corners.

If not for the combination of some excellent goalkeeping from Yusufu and some highly out-of-character shooting from Tresoldi, it could be a real drubbing, however Hamburg’s total lack of offence means there was never any real concern of relinquishing our advantage, something that would, belatedly, be confirmed when Dominik Szoboszlai prods in the dagger towards the end of the 90 to wrap up our second win in six days against Die Rothosen.

* * * * * * * *
​

I’m baffled by Sporting CP.

Currently, Filipe Cândido’s side are doing well enough in the Champions League to occupy eighth, the final spot that would secure immediate progression into the last-16 stage of the competition. Conversely, they’re struggling to keep pace with Porto and Benfica back in Portugal, finding themselves lagging behind in third, so who knows which version of Os Leões will show up when we make the journey south-west.

As a result of this uncertainty, I name a fairly strong lineup, hoping that the quality of my boys will be more than enough to cope with the unpredictability of our hosts.

​

“What on earth have we just watched?” I ask my assistants as I return to our technical area after the final whistle.

“Quite possibly the most uninspiring 3-0 away win in Champions League history,” Kevin declares.

“We managed to gain a three-goal lead by half-time, in spite of the fact we only registered three shots that equated to a total xG of 0.27, which is baffling,” Zlatan says.

“To be fair, the own goal wouldn’t count towards our xG, would it? Given it wasn’t a shot, after all,” Kevin says. Zlatan pulls a confused face at his colleague, so Kevin hurriedly adds: “At least, I think that’s what you’ve told me in the past, Zlats, but I might be talking out of my backside.”

“No, that's correct,” Zlatan says, still looking a little thrown off as he turns back to me. “That must mean we’re nearly there, right, Bossin?”

“With tonight’s results, we’d need to lose at Anderlecht next week and have seven of the eight teams immediately below us win - or not lose, in PSG’s case - to drop out of the top eight,” I confirm, putting my phone back in my pocket. “Add that to our four-point lead at the top of the Bundesliga and our place in the quarter-finals of the Pokal, I think we can finally say it out loud:

“The treble treble is on.”

* * * * * * * *​

Thank you for reading! A link to my socials and my previous story can be found on my Linktree, and please follow the thread to be updated every time there's a new post!

 

[Chonky Panda Tactics]

Part Thirty-One​

Welcome back to Foal From Grace! Beth beats me at a board game, Kevin cries, and I make a big decision.

This part is spread across multiple posts, so make sure to catch all six games!

Series Links

​

“Look at them all. Running around. Training. Acting like there’s any real purpose to this mortal life. All we do is prolong it for as long as possible, seeking those fleeting moments of enjoyment in this pitifully miserable existence to make it feel like there’s any reason to continue to fight for life on a daily basis.”

“Are you okay, Nicole?” Alexis Geiler asks from across the table.

“I beat her at a game of Wingspan last night, she’s still getting over it,” Beth, whose visits to the Borussia-Park complex for social visits are becoming more and more common, says. “You know how much she sulks after a defeat.”

“Believe me, she was a nightmare after the Bayern loss last season,” Alexis groans.

“I’m not sulking, I’m brooding, contemplative, ruminating on life’s challenges,” I state.

“You’re a grumpy cow is what you are,” Beth says.

“Okay, fine, I am,” I sigh.

“I presume that’s why you’ve gatecrashed our tea time, correct?” Alexis asks.

“No, I’d always planned on missing training today, I wanted Zlatan to lead the sessions” I admit, taking a thoughtful sip of my drink as I watch the drills in the light snow through the window. “It’s good for him to get some practice for when he moves into management himself.”

“Do you think that’ll be soon?”

“Difficult to say,” I grimace. “He’s been linked with jobs for a while, but I don’t know if he wants to go yet; I won’t stop him when he tells me he does want to leave though, I don’t want to deny him a promotion because of my own selfishness.”

“It’s the right thing to do,” Beth smiles, before her face drops straight into a frown. “Still, doesn’t mean you can burden us with your sour mood.”

“Sorry, I’ll go.”

“Don’t be silly, I’m just asking you to park your misery elsewhere and enjoy the company,” Beth says. “If you can’t do that though, you can get lost and leave us to be happy.”

“I’ll cheer up, as soon as I get over last night’s trauma and the fear of losing one of my most important colleagues,” I half-laugh. “What was on the agenda for today, before I ruined it?”

“You haven’t ruined anything, Nicole,” Alexis assures me. “So, we were going to meet here for a drink, chat about life and cacti for a bit, then probably watch a movie back in the office.”

“How do you both watch it on your tiny laptop screen?”

“That’s the neat part: we don’t,” Beth grins.

“Do you remember me suggesting we get that roller blind installed?” Alexis asks.

“To stop me from getting so distracted by all the activity outside,” I say, repeating her reasoning from the time.

“Well, in reality, it’s to block out all the light and use as a projector screen.”

“But we don’t have a projector in our office,” I say, confused.

“Lexi has a portable one,” Beth explains.

“They make those now? Wow, I can’t keep up with all this new technology.”

“They’ve been making them for years, Nicole.”

“Really?”

“We talked about buying one nearly five years ago, don’t you remember?”

“I can barely remember what lineup I picked yesterday, let alone a conversation from half a decade ago,” I shrug. “What’re you thinking of watching?”

“I don’t know, probably something light, maybe a Disney movie,” Alexis says. “You can join us, if you’d like to.”

“That’s alright, I don’t want to take up more of the time you’d put aside to spend together,” I smile. “I’ve got to see the big boss soon anyway, and he doesn’t stop talking for hours once he gets started.”

“Is it about what you mentioned to me a couple of weeks back?” Beth asks.

“No, this is to go over the plans for the remainder of the transfer window. I’ll try and arrange another meeting some time next month to discuss that,” I answer, feeling a warmth spread through me when I see Zlatan Bajramović and Kevin Nolan share some laughter out on the training pitch and embrace one another.

“You’re being very cryptic,” Alexis observes.

“It’s a personal matter,” I say, running my finger around the rim of my mug.

“Also a very cryptic statement,” Alexis chuckles. “In all seriousness, is everything okay? Can I do anything to help?”

“All fine, Lexi, don’t worry. Thank you for the offer though, it’s appreciated,” I say. I turn and smile at my colleague, my eyes meeting hers. “Once I’ve worked out the details, you’ll be the second to know.”

“Not first?”

“Lexi, I love you, but if you think you’ll be told about my personal matters before my wife, then you’re delusional.”

​

Despite naming a stronger team than the one that faced Sporting during the week, we are shockingly poor in the first half at managerless-Werder Bremen’s Weserstadion and are thankful that Gregor Kobel, along with our hosts’ wasteful shooting, keeps the scoreline goalless.

With a change of approach at the interval, we slowly start to take control of the game, building in momentum until we finally break the deadlock with ten minutes remaining when Nicolò Tresoldi spins Niklas Stark on the edge of Werder’s area and slams in. The results could’ve been far more comfortable had Mark Barber been able to get the better of Iker Álvarez when sent through one-on-one at the death, but the single goal would be all that was required to secure the three points.

* * * * * * * *​

 

[Chonky Panda Tactics]

One of the few upsides of the Champion League’s change of format is the opportunity to face a far-wider range of opponents and visit more locations than in its previous guise, the final journey of this season’s titanic group taking us to Anderlecht, somewhere that… actually, after a quick check of Tripadvisor, isn’t somewhere I’m overly excited to go to. Still, a new ground is a new ground all the same.

Having all-but qualified for the last-16 stage already, and with Les Mauve et Blanc struggling in 30th, I make the call to send out the Backup Brigade as only Abderrazak Talbi keeps his place from Saturday, given the lack of left-footed options at centre-back with Dan-Axel Zagadou still at the African Cup of Nations.

​

It’s a remarkably calm and composed performance, considering the amount of changes made. Our hosts barely get a sniff before we take the lead in the 21st minute when Barber returns Jesper Lindstrøm’s cleared corner to the box to be met on the half-volley by Tobias Steiner, getting him off the mark for the first team after having made his way through the youth ranks at the club.

From there, it feels like a breeze, coasting through the match with little bother, eventually doubling our lead when Barber goes from provider to scorer after being set free by another youngster, Sebastian Zimmermann, and, although Anderlecht do tarnish the result by scoring a blockbuster 47 seconds after the final whistle should’ve gone, it’s a successful night in Belgium that sees us complete the league phase of the Champions League in second place.

* * * * * * * *
​

”I think I’m starting to miss home, Boss,” Kevin says as we prepare our dressing room at the Europa-Park Stadion.

“Me too, but at least this is the last of four away games in a row,” I say.

“I didn’t mean Borussia-Park, Nicole, I mean England,” Kevin sighs, slumping onto the bench. In all our time working together, I’ve not seen him like this before.

“Did you not go back over the winter break?” I ask, sitting next to him.

“No, I thought we should stay here and have our first Christmas in Germany,” Kevin says. “It was great, and so relaxing to not have to travel at all, but it didn’t feel right to be so far away from the rest of the family - I miss them.”

“Are those tears?” I ask. “I thought you’d been born without tear ducts, or at least had them surgically removed.” Kevin laughs and manages a small smile. “If you need a break and want to go back home for a bit, Kev, I don’t mind. You could take all the time you need.”

“I’ll be okay, I guess it’s just one of the things you have to get used to when you move abroad,” Kevin nods, wiping his face with the back of his hand. “I’ve made plans to travel home for the next international break, so we can do something together for Easter. Gives me a set time-frame. I don’t like the idea of being absent for an indefinite period, I’m scared I’ll run off.”

“Well, if you ever do, I’d appreciate you letting me know at least,” I chuckle, patting my assistant on the thigh. We sit in contented silence for a few moments before Zlatan re-enters after observing some of the warm-up.

“Everything alright?” he asks. “Have you been crying, Kevin?”

“Of course not, I haven’t cried around other people since I watched Up at the cinema in 2009.”

​

Back to something resembling full-strength, it’s clear from the first half that luck is going to be on our side today, taking the lead via an own goal from Maximilian Eggestein before Louis Vanbrabant comically loses both his footing and the ball in his own area, scrambling upright just in time to trip Cardo Makengo and gift us a penalty that Tresoldi thumps into the top-right corner.

After the restart, it looks like we’re in the clear to ease off a little, but Christian Streich’s boys rally as we enter the final quarter, finally creating chances. We’re fortunate, at first, that Kobel denies perpetual-nuisance Terem Moffi a finish to an impressively intricate move, but there’s nothing our goalkeeper can do when the Nigerian tees up Eggestein to drill in from 20 yards, getting his name on both scoresheets and halving the deficit.

Having apparently grown complacent, the riposte does far from dampening my lads’ spirits, however - if anything, it rouses them. So much so, in fact, that the potential of a nervy finale is quickly quashed by Tanguy Nianzou crashing in a header at a corner and Barber adding our fourth in injury time, tapping in at the back post to put the game beyond any doubt.

* * * * * * * *
​

As January draws to a close, so too does the transfer window and, whilst there are no new arrivals in Mönchengladbach, there is a departure as Joe Scally brings his second stint as a Fohl to a close, joining Porto for €26 million after a year, whilst we also have the quarter-final draw for the DFB-Pokal at last, finding ourselves travelling to struggling Bayer Leverkusen towards the end of February.

​

Before that, however, we have to face each of the teams that’ve taken up residence in the Bundesliga’s bottom two, starting with Eintracht Braunschweig at Borussia-Park.

Aside from stonking six goals past Frankfurt in a ten-goal thriller, our visitors have looked diabolically poor so far this season, only picking up two more points from their other fixtures, and are on course for the worst points-tally in the history of the Bundesliga. As such, I have few qualms with rotating my side a little, giving Nianzou, Franky Hilgers, Gustavo Gallardo, and Liam Heywood a chance to start, while Luca Netz returns from illness to give Ian Maatsen a break.

​

I wish I could say that it was a difficult game, an enthralling contest that was balanced on a knife-edge, but that’s incredibly difficult to claim when you go a goal up before the opposition have even touched the ball.

Die Löwen are dreadful, crumbling every time we move towards their goal and, if not for Fabian Bedlow making several smart saves, the result could be beyond doubt long before ex-Fohl Joshua Uwakhonye’s own goal and Tresoldi’s 25th of the campaign wrap up the victory. It’s actually quite uncomfortable to watch a team so low on confidence come up against one of the country’s strongest sides, so much so that a late consolation for the visitors from Valerio Crespi is greeted with a smattering of cheers and applause from the sympathetic home-crowd.

Plus, it saves us from having to pay out tens-of-thousands of euros in clean-sheet bonuses, so there’s a happy thought.

* * * * * * * *​

 

[Chonky Panda Tactics]

The last time I came to Stuttgart, it was for the 2027 Europa League final, just after my Backup Brigade had failed to beat Darmstadt and helped consign Die Schwaben to relegation, resulting in Giorgio Cittadini having pasta sauce thrown at him. Good times.

Our hosts were able to bounce back, regaining their top-flight status at the first opportunity, but they’ll be keen to avoid history repeating itself and will hope to claw their way out of the relegation spots as soon as possible, so I’m treating this potential banana-peel as a game of huge importance and name a strong lineup that includes our returning AFCON-players, which is extremely well timed in Tariq Lamptey’s case after Makengo damaged his knee cap against Braunschweig just three days after we sold Scally.

​

“This is much more pleasant than last time,” I muse in the dugout as the final seconds play out.

“Much calmer, definitely,” Zlatan agrees. “The early penalty clearly settled the nerves and it was smooth sailing from there, especially with that second straight after the restart. In fact, I don’t believe they’ve had a shot on target in the second half, if I remember correctly.”

“Of course you remember, Zlats, don’t be modest,” Kevin smirks. “There is one thing we need to mention, though.”

“Tariq’s pulled knee-ligaments that forced him off at half-time?” I frown. “Yes, it’s a little unfortunate.”

“This’ll be the fourth time he’s missed a spell through injury this season, which actually makes it more impressive that he’s still leading the squad for assists,” Zlatan states.

“Why did you sell Joe again, Boss?” Kevin asks, raising his eyebrows.

“He wanted to go,” I shrug.

“And you didn’t think that a player who was home-grown, not on a massive wage, and could play on either side in the most physically demanding position in the team would be useful to keep around, just in case?”

“We all make mistakes, leave me alone.”

* * * * * * * *
​

With no transfer distractions and nine days off between our journeys to Stuttgart and Leverkusen, the perfect opportunity presented itself to sort out some new contracts with six players agreeing to new four-and-a-half-year deals: Oliver Christensen, Barber, Netz, Edwin Zamudio, Gallardo, and Abderrazak Talbi, who’s finally had his desire for game-time satiated and stopped writing rude names on my whiteboard as a result.

​

And half of those who’ve renewed will be making appearances from the start at the BayArena as I name a slightly rotated side for our Pokal quarter-final against the newly-appointed Grzegorz Krychowiak’s team, keen to not read too much into their position in 14th with a new man at the helm that could possibly reinvigorate Die Werkself.

​

Reinvigorated, they are not.

We blast through our hosts in the opening period who, if anything, look worse than when we met at the back-end of 2028, constantly allowing the influential Lindstrøm far too much room to work with. The Dane slides an inch-perfect ball through for Steiner to rattle in, then adds one of his own by volleying in Gallardo’s whipped cross from the right on the half-hour mark before, always keen to avoid being outshone, Tresoldi makes sure to add one himself before the interval, allowing us to take it easy in the second 45.

Yes, Lee Kang-in scored a remarkable free kck to take the shine off of the result with Bayer’s only shot on target of the entire match, but we’re into the semi-finals all the same.

* * * * * * * *
​

“Ready?” Alexis asks as we stand outside the meeting room I’ve booked.

“As ready as I can be,” I laugh, nervously. “Thank you for coming with me.”

“Of course, I’ve got your back,” she smiles, those brown eyes of hers proving the sincerity of her care.

“Right, here I go.” I puff out my cheeks and turn the handle, opening the door and nodding to both the men I’d asked to join me here, President Tobias Deppe and Director of Football Roland Virkus.

“Good morning, Nicole, Alexis,” Tobias says. “Keen to get the plans for the next transfer window sorted early? Very conscientious of you.”

“Actually, that’s not it,” I say slowly, sitting down opposite him. “I’ve got something more important to discuss.”

“And what would that be?”

I take a deep breath and, just about, find the courage to deliver the line I’ve been practising for a few weeks now: “Thank you for all of your support for the last two-and-a-half years, it’s been priceless. As a result, I feel it’s only right to give you fair warning of a decision I haven’t made lightly:

“I’ll be leaving the club at the end of this season.”

* * * * * * * *​

Thank you for reading! I'm sorry to leave you on a cliffhanger like this, but I'm afraid there won't be an instalment of Foal From Grace next week - at least you'll have time to recover from the big news! Hopefully, part 32 will be ready to go the following weekend, but, to stay updated on its progress, you can follow me on Instagram via a link to my socials on my Linktree (along with my previous story), and please follow the thread to be updated every time there's a new post!