Season 2015-16 Perpetuate and Pressure
The old Goldstone ground couldn't have dreamed of the spectacles on its sacred turf the Amex had been playing host to; It's terraces a distant memory now in the mind of every fan. Expectations of a Brighton fan had ballooned to sizes no-one would have dared voice just 3 years ago, 3 utterly astounding years.
((Long Tall Sally - Little Richard - YouTube))
The number of fans swelled to ever greater heights, vast throngs of ecstatic faces flocked to cheer as the buses once again held their heroes atop, proudly displaying the campaign’s riches. As the blue and white striped masses drew closer to the eclectic scenes of the open top vehicles the sounds as much as the sights reeled them in, the manager taking liberties with the audience it seemed as they won yet more and more.
Packed streets followed the glinting treasures through the streets like dazed fanatics, caught in the moment of music, tapping feet and delirious celebration. The manager lifted the Champions League trophy, a far reaching roar of approval went up with it, a feeling any man could get drunk on.
The players danced on the buses, the fans danced in the streets, a microphone occassionally picked up an out of tune voice singing along with the string of upbeat numbers. It felt like an impromptu carnival, a welcome change from the usual chanting of the same songs from the stands, those could wait for the coming occasions.
Every sports reporter in the country would have been coating the Sussex coastline were it not for other events demanding worthy attention.
Sir Alex Ferguson and Arsene Wenger had both decided their time in the game was up, announcing their retirements the same day, it was as if they were still competing for those final honours.
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The Invincibles and the most League titles, the two longest serving Premier League managers
Two of the prominent English clubs suddenly had vacancies, the speculation had already begun. Surely the young English manager with a plethora of trophies already to his name would be the likely man to take charge at one of the giants?
However there was no getting an answer out of the man on his team’s victory parade, reporters trying - only to get severe treatment from those in attendance.
Two major trophies added to the expanding cabinet, it was beginning to look a pretty sight at the Amex stadium; men in suits were far too congratulatory of themselves as they preened before the well polished display. It was just as the media had been asking whenever the players had gone on a good run; would expectations of victory build them up too much?
The cameras hung around as the players departed after another amazing campaign, the meetings starting up again; budgets, board goals, personnel.
Cruyff and the Manager began their negotiations with Bloom and the board...
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A first press conference opened with the congratulations which would likely continue through the coming months. Foreign reporters were becoming familiar faces, a feature the club couldn’t have envisioned in the championship without the extraordinary.
Q. “No one has gained an answer from you thus far, you’re still the Brighton and Hove Albion manager but for how much longer? Surely Manchester United or Arsenal presents a tempting opportunity?”
A. “So long as the chairman Tony Bloom and more importantly the supporters want me at the club, I shall refuse any and all other offers. Never mind that I’ve been a fan of the club since I was a boy; why leave a team who have just won almost every honour they were competing for? We are European Champions, in my eyes that makes us better than Manchester United and Arsenal however big the clubs wallets and histories are.”
Q. “Following the Champions League win, many big name players in both Europe and the rest of the World are being linked with the club, is the signing of one or two headline signings the plan for the coming season?”
A. “To put it simply, no. Brighton is in a wonderful position; the city has been invigorated by the success with a still new feeling stadium which is packed every home game by loyal fans, and a growing fan-base as more residents experience the joy winning football brings. But we have to acknowledge that the club doesn’t have the financial infrastructure of other clubs who are now considered firm rivals.
Arsenal we all know have a solid financial structure which has worked well and been carefully balanced despite a lack of league or European titles in recent years. Manchester United have a global fan-base built from decades of aggressive globalisation much in the same way the big European clubs have done so. Manchester City are about to unveil their new stadium; the state of the art ‘Al Mubarek’ stadium, nearly 64,000 seats. The Amex is less than half the size, and as formidable a fortress we’ve made it, revenue differences are obvious.
Q. “Are you pointing the finger at the board then for not finding ways to generate the revenue to make up the gap?
A. “That’s not what I’m saying at all, what I am saying is that when you achieve the kind of success we have in such a short space of time you gain a large injection of prize funds and improved reputation to command further opportunities, but without the billions made from oil or an empire writing blank cheques you can’t afford to keep spending in the manner these clubs do. Improved sponsorship deals have been signed with nearly every piece of silverware coming in.”
Q. “So despite the likes of Edison Cavani and Lucas Ocampos both declaring they would strongly consider any offer from Brighton, you feel they wouldn’t be right for the club? Even Wayne Rooney has expressed his admiration for your success.”
A. “I think we were incredibly fortunate that previous circumstances allowed us to obtain the services of Kyriakos, Keisuke, Fabio, Patrick and Gianluca who are all world stars now. With an established first team who know success at the highest level it has been decided that the best course of action would be to build for the future and look to address the clubs youth setup further still along-with bringing in some stars for the future.”
Q. “This would be in line with the previous work of Johan at Barcelona?”
A. “Perhaps he would rather answer himself.”
Cruyff stirred from his comfortable position in auto-pilot sat back in his chair.
“Well over the past year we’ve given a lengthy look at improving the development squad and facilities, work that started in accordance with….”
What could be gleaned from the efforts in the offices and any comments made early on in June was that youth had been the galvanising area of interest. Tony Carr the Head of Youth Development decided his time was up, retiring from football altogether rather than staying the course for the changes, a year in the job all he spent with the Seagulls.
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A replacement was in the works, but first the manager had other areas he felt could be easily improved.
With the departure of Sir Alex Ferguson at United, a lightning small raid was commenced, Warren Joyce and John Cooke both travelling south to the champions on the same day to join the coaching staff, the idea to get in before the new boss arrived.
However business in the offices paused as three days apart press conferences were held elsewhere to announce the arrival of those new managers to do homework on. Manchester United came first, Josep ‘Pep’ Guardiola was the man to take over from the legendary Scot.
The Gunners went with the choice of Athletic Bilbao’s manager Marcelo Bielsa.
Everyone was ready to get back to it when another press meeting was called at home. With a Champions League and Premier League medal he never imagined he would ever obtain; Bobby Zamora just as it had been clear he would sooner or later do so decided to hang up his playing boots, finishing his career with the club he built his name at. A packed testimonial match and a flurry of messages of thanks from the fans sent him away with a smile.
Work quickly resumed, Aurelio Pereira joining the scouting team from Portuguese side Sporting; Txiki Begiristain, Mauro Pederzoli, Pepe Bonet and Nigerian Finidi George all following suit having previously been without employment.
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Jose Segura was poached from QPR, Karen Gibson became Head Physio, leaving her beloved Dundee FC to travel right to the south coast of England.
Julen Masach unable to find a job in his native Germany was also delighted to join the team as a fitness coach.
The senior backroom team was looking bolstered for the new season, a host of fresh faces. It was the turn of the youth.
Negotiations had been difficult at times, but when dealing with one of the top clubs in Europe they were bound to be when prizing away a quality asset.
Cruyff and the manager has decided Roberto Samaden, the Inter Head of Youth Development was the correct choice.
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Roberto Samaden made the change at the prospect of assisting Cruyff's rebuilding of the youth
Fellow Italian Marco Di Vaio became Dani Lopez’s assistant to the Under 18’s squad; John Iga left Wolves to sign on the Brighton books as a fitness coach for the youths. Clare Houston became under 18’s physio signing from Peterborough.
It was then the turn of players, Roberto Samaden immediately getting to his duties and bringing in 18 year old Croatian fullback Pavel Hadjek for £1.9 million from Sparta Prague.
Liam Bridcutt who had found his first team opportunities severely limited the past season agreed terms with Aston Villa for £3.9 million.
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Shortly after came in through the door the last three players of the only four in the transfer window to sign for Brighton:
David Creemers, a 20 year old Dutch left sided striker/winger from Ajax for £13 million. Every major club in Europe had been watching the youngster who had all kinds of famous Dutch legends’ names had been linked to the prospect, Cruyff included, the assistant's involvement in the deal no doubt a huge factor in the boy’s decision.
Jonathan Menichini left Juventus for Brighton, costing £18 million. 17 years old and already a regular in the Italy under 18’s squad, the scouts had informed he played in the centre of the park and had the look of a future Italy international conductor in the role.
Finally Dundee United fans were saddened to see Steven Rodger their 20 year old striker leave for £4 million. Tall, imposing, and a cool finish, he remains one of the most hotly tipped young Scottish talents to emerge for years, and in his backup duties at Brighton he brought some height upfront which was completely lacking otherwise.
Loans were sorted out for reserves; Jake Forster-Caskey once again heading out to play a season elsewhere.
Adam Henley was told he would be back-up only at the Seagulls, and when Fulham offered to pay £120,000 a month to loan him for the season the manager swiftly agreed.
The British Summer was scorching and Brighton found its seafront rammed each and every day as people seemingly had no jobs to go to, flocking to the beach instead.
Reporters cheekily stated the completion of the youth setup plans were only achieved due to the heat wave, deluding the prospective employees in their interviews and meetings into believing the English weather had always been so sweltering, forcing the beauties to wander the city wearing ever less.
Martin Petrov, Angelo Palombo, Lucio, Didier Drogba, David Villa and Xavi all signed as under 18’s coaches. The press conference was a mixture of flustered reporters unsure of how to interpret the stars signing to teach the kids and gleaming local paper workers, lapping up the easy columns they could slather over.
((ACDC - Money Talks - YouTube))
Yet once again, had it not been for the activities of the Premier League giants and the millions of pounds they could command, every set of eyes would have been on the Albion.
Manchester City with Roberto Mancini had retained his job despite losing to the likes of Brighton on every front; he blew away the media with the arrival of Alan Dzagoev for a staggering £38.5 million, amazing when the player had been available on a bosnan a few years earlier.
Guardiola was second in the price war, bringing in Nicolas Nkoulou for a price tag of £32.5 million.
Surprisingly David Moyes had found some money at last, be it a relative dying or robbing a bank, he was able to somehow spend £31 million on Belgian highly rated talent Alex Witsel, a statement of intent the Toffees had never made before.
Finally Arsenal and Bielsa not wanting to be left out got their main target of Robert Lewandowski, costing £28 million and replacing the outgoing Lukas Podolski.
Brighton would be up against it for sure. With no players who would improve upon the first team, they would be heavily reliant on their existing stars doing the business all over again. They decided to the copy the actions of United and Liverpool by travelling to the US once more for their pre-season camp, the manager stating to the cameras -
“We don’t want to remain the isolated or minnow English champions forever, the world is watching, sooner or later we’ll capitalise on that.”
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It got off to a rocky start. Japanese superstar Honda was injured within the first few days, he’d be out until after the season began.
Predictions for the season had Manchester City still the favourites, Brighton second for a change. They’d have done well to revise those quickly.
Papdopoulos took the captains armband, Kolo Toure taking up the Greek's previous role as Vice captain, a reflection upon the time they could expect to be playing on the pitch no doubt.
The Charity Shield started it off as always, which pitted the Albion against Arsenal. With Honda injured, Rafinha took his place, yet did little to nothing in the attack. 4 – 2 to Arsenal in the end, Aaron Ramsey and Lewandowski netting twice each and making Lewandowski look like an expensive blessing for the beleaguered London side.
The league form was indifferent to start. A home tie against Manchester United drew the attention as Guardiola made his league debut with the club. The highlight reels ran endless footage of Sir Alex Ferguson’s reign, and the dominance of Barcelona under Pep.
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Brighton spoiled the party with a solid 3 – 0 victory. But morale in the club oddly seemed low, the usual motivation from the manager did little to improve the situation, and on the pitch the players seemed like strangers despite the only arrivals being just the youngsters bought in to fill the ranks and learn, so it wasn’t a question of gelling.
Aston Villa away 0 – 0, the football played ugly and as if both sides had been drugged beforehand.
Paris Saint-Germain in the Euro Super Cup, that was where the heads would lift and the momentum would build.
2 – 1 to PSG, the Albion abject and lucky to even get one.
A lucky penalty against Newcastle at home sealed a 2 – 1 win, but only down to a fluke.
The play wasn’t pretty; the slick passing out to the wings wasn’t on show. Everyone looked as if they were all bemused as to why it wasn’t clicking. Speculation was irrelevant as there was no rift, no contract disputes. The Italians just weren’t dancing on the ball, the Japanese playmaker wasn’t finding his passes, and the strikers weren’t troubling the defences.
The Champions League champions were relieved to draw FC Porto, Ajax and Standard Liege in Group F of the major competition; a home win of 1 - 0 to kick things off would have seemed like a great start, but instead it was the start of something much worse.
Fabio Borini pulled up 50 minutes in, his face a picture of agony as his arm flagged frantically to the bench. Limping off, it later was revealed he had torn his hamstring, 3-4 months.
Losing Borini was a blow, but they had other strikers, other players who could make magic happen and hit the back of the net. Ademilson failed to find the net and Arsenal strode to another win, Wolves quickly joined them.
It was new territory for the seagulls, they hadn’t had such a bad run before so early into a season. Their position was languishing in lower mid table, Manchester City by contrast hadn’t lost a match.
Rafinha was found exiting the managers office, approaching the cameras, filled with petulant frustration.
R. “I’m losing faith in his methods, we are underachieving and I joined this club to win things…I don’t believe the manager can turn this around.”
“You’re saying the manager who has won the Premier League twice out of two tries, and the Champions League last season doesn’t have the ability to turn around the bad situation? A bad situation 4 games into the season…”
R. “Right, we should be top of the table but we’re not!”
A long pause ensued; bewilderment and aggression hung strangely.
“You understand that as a player, on the pitch it’s your job to turn it around.”
R. “But the manager isn’t doing his job well enough! It’s unacceptable!”
The young Brazilian stormed off. Perhaps the reason why he had been free from Barcelona was becoming clear, however much of a talent he was.
Everton struck another blow, three losses in a row.
The players began to appear in the manager's office one at a time, word was getting around the dressing room they were not to have faith in their young English manager. Yet each time they emerged, when choosing to talk to the cameras came only comments of reassurance, they recognised it was their job, heads up, play through it.
Caprari went down with a damaged elbow - 1 month+
Tradito strained his knee ligaments – 2 months
The fixture list was already hammering the small squad as they came into December. QPR had been easy in the League Cup, but a drawn out tie against Liverpool again had gone into extra time, requiring a moment of brilliance from Simao to gain the result desired and progress in the cup.
Draws and the odd win littered the league, their position improving only a little at a time. In the Champions League they ground out hard fought results, 2 wins 2 draws and 2 losses got them second in the group and qualification. It felt like the skin of their teeth as only the head to head results with Standard sent them through.
Manchester City gladly welcomed the struggling champions to their new stadium. Aguero, Dzeko, Dzagoev. 3 – 0 to the sky blues. Mancini couldn’t help but rub it in, comfortable atop the table.
“This Brighton team didn’t really -errrr- offer anything, they are a a a shadow of the team they were last season.”
Christmas had been wonderful in previous years, perhaps the childlike delight at the camp glitter filled world mocked up had spurred on the Brighton boys. Not this time.
Honda dropped out with a fractured arm – 1 month.
Ademilson collapsed with a groin strain – 3 weeks.
Herrmann rested with a bruised rib – 10 days, only to come back and gain a gashed leg – 2 weeks.
Rafinha took a hammer blow of a tackle to his right foot breaking it well enough to see him sidelined for over 4 months. At least he wouldn’t be able to stir ill feelings in the dressing room for a while.
The ladies in the medical department were earning their money twice over, the first team line-up was ravaged, a sick joke to Brighton’s hopes of another glorious season.
New boys Creemers and Rodger were holding the fort up front, snatching a goal here or there as they tried to blend into the squad desperately quickly.
South Africa then brought new stadiums and a new competition to the team as they went straight into the semi final of the Club World Cup. A tired win put them into a final with Chivas the Mexican outfit in the cup.
A 3 – 0 loss. Disgraceful was the word to describe the performance.
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Three matches for three pieces of silverware had been attempted, all three lost. The players were shattered, they all started each match looking like they were only 80% fuelled up for the fixture, tired legs and tired minds.
The Match of the Day studio proposed its usual fare with the highlights package. Gary Lineker posing the question of Brighton's hopes of even obtaining Champions League football with the state of the team.
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Hansen. "Well you've really got to wonder haven't you, after the opening game of the season for them they've offered little to nothing beyond some lucky strikes. The triangles have gone, the wing play is terrible as no-one seems willing to take on and beat their man...the manager has a real job on his hands."
Lawrenson. "The answer has got to be spending in the January transfer window. All the big clubs when they get into a tough situation by this stage of the season dip into the market and spend big, bring in a tried and tested goalscorer usually who will bag you a dozen or more before the campaign is done."
Hansen. "Question there is, what funds do Brighton have? The manager went on record about the limited financial clout of the club beyond their winnings, which leaves loan strikers."
Lineker. "Di Natale and Villa are on the books! Maybe a little reinvention is in order."
Hansen. "Haha, not a bad idea when you look at how dire things are."
January brought with it a meeting. A crisis meeting? Perhaps just a team meeting.
“We’ve got to sort this mess out, and sort it out now, not later.” Growled the manager, his eyes searching the room of reluctant faces all watching on out of obligation.
“I think we have it in us to climb the table quickly, get back where we belong” stated the Greek centre-back.
“I made you captain Kyriakos to lead them on the pitch, you boss the **** out of the opposition and you see to it that our fella’s don’t get into trouble. Look to this man boys, he can’t do it on his own but he’s been our best player so far, and they’ll have to run him over to injure him like the rest.
A small laugh went up, half out of respect for the boss, half because he was right; Papadopoulos was built like an absolute brick house.
“Fabio is nearly fit, Honda will be back shortly, Caprari is healthy and Herrmann will learn to man up soon!”
Another chuckle rose up “Hey! I vas attacked boss, dat schlampe vas die *****”
The manager let go a smile “Du bist wunderbar Patrick”
“Yah; Yah I am aren’t I?”
Snickering smiling faces beamed to one another, spirits really had been low.
“Come on now lads, you know you’re the best in this **** league! We’ve won it twice in a row; you’re the god **** reigning league and European champions! You know you’re the best out there and I’ll be damned if you’re going to let this season just slip away!”
“Yeah! No reason why we can’t get that juicy bonus again!” Cheered Butland.
“Yah vell, you vill just buy your silly misses another dia-mond auw-tomobile vont you Jackie?”
“Better than spending it all on sausage you fat git!”
The laughter rose high. "Hey hey lads, go easy with the insults." He reached down to a stereo, hovering a second over the play button. "What do you think is my favourite film chaps?"
"Cruel Intentions!" Clyne shouted
"Pretty woman!" Everyone was a comedian. He pushed play.
((http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mk00GADuB4Y))
"Cool Runnings! We could all take a thing or two from those Jamaican Heroes! Listen to the lyrics, and I'll see you all in training tomorrow."
"Yo Sanka, ya dead man?" Was heard as the manager waved and departed from the room, cameras in tow.
Laughter all that could be heard as they disappeared down the corridor. Job done.
((Cue comeback montage music if you fancy it: Days of Thunder OST - Rubbing is Racing - YouTube))
View attachment 293866 A semi final first leg League Cup tie against Stoke was their first chance to show how attitudes had changed. The entire audience believing the potters would run out comfortable winners as they had gone on an inspired run that saw them in the Champions League spots.
Creemers slotted two home early on, a late Peter Crouch goal and final Papadopoulos header gave Brighton a 3 – 1 lead to go to the Britannia stadium with. The boys looked fired up and ready to start winning games again, the belief was back, they had had a fire lit beneath them and the fans knew it.
Wolverhampton away proved tough, the dogged rough tackles threatening to sideline yet more players. The manager pulled out those who were in danger of taking that one hit that did the damage, the chances were reluctant to arrive. But after many failed efforts, one slim chance fell to the Frenchman Pogba, angry at the treatment dolled out by Wolves he let fly a cry and rocketed a 35 yard monster into the net giving them the vital points.
1 – 1 with Stoke in the return leg set up another Wembley final, Tottenham awaited.
They won, and won, and finally the Seagulls season had looked to have started. The games in hand thanks to their many commitments weighed heavy on the minds of their rivals as the goals began to pour in. The walking wounded returned to full fitness and back into the starting line-up.
The kids played an F.A Cup tie against Newport County, 1 – 1 at home was unacceptable, but the same kids won the return without any worries, fear of the manager’s fury perhaps incentive enough.
Douglas Maximo felt that rage unfortunately though when Manchester City came calling in the 4th round. Sent off inside 20 minutes for a cynical foul, the Sheikh billionaire’s toy team were rampant, the final scoreline of 2 – 1 flattering.
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The F.A Cup couldn't matter in such a season though, with again immediate silverware to be had.
Papadopoulos lifted the League Cup getting the only goal himself in a 1 – 0 against Spurs. Dull football, but a trophy, a guarantee of some form of European football, and some more momentum.
Any fan with a brain could see the league was already heading to Manchester without a citywide meltdown as both sides were looking further and further out of Brighton’s reach, so the Champions League became the focus. 1st Knockout stage, Brighton were drawn against PSG, it was obvious they would have to seriously rise to the challenge against the best teams to do the impossible of retaining the trophy.
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1 – 0 at the Amex, the play was beautiful, the one twos between the Italians dazzling as the young Menichini was given the nod to play on the big stage with his compatriots Caprari and Borini.
4 – 1 against Everton at home, with a 1 – 1 draw against Man City good platforms to take into the second leg.
Paris flew out of the blocks, shots coming at Butland so quickly he was making double saves repeatedly. The tactics had been right; just every loose ball fell to the rich French side. It wasn’t long before they scored, Pastore rounding the English keeper to celebrate with his colleagues.
It was looking like they would be heading out early this year, one shot on target all they had to give in the first 40 minutes, an easy take for the goalie. That was until Radja Nainggolan made a second reckless challenge and earned himself an early bath.
They came out for the second half, the English travelling faithful chanted religiously
"Attack! Attack! Attack-attack-attack!!!"
Brighton crashed forward, the wingbacks overlapping the wingers, the triangles were back, Paris were up against it. Ancelotti screamed his instructions from the sideline, players in the deep blue shirts pulled back, the back line was doubled up into what looked like most of the time two banks of four camped inside their own area.
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With no opportunities to counter it was suicide by the French to sit back and hope for penalities...yet they blocked shot after shot, tackling like pros as frustrated attackers in the Brighton colours thumped the ground with increasing intensity.
The whistle blew for 90 minutes.
"Come on lads! Kill them out there!!!"
Tired legs were tempered with adrenaline filled heads, Brighton wanted this, they wanted it more. The extra man had to count.
Creemers picked up the ball just inside the Paris half and darted past his man, two more players were onto him, he laid it off, burst again and took it back. An excellent first touch, and he was brought to the deck.
Honda stepped up full of purpose. His eyes seared a hole beyond the wall into the back of the net, the keeper didn't stand a chance. He dashed to the ball upon the whistle and put his foot right through it, a cannon shot exploded through the wall, one useless individual jumping off his mark leaving a precious gap. The keeper wrongfooted, 108 minutes the ball crashed into the PSG net.
Paris Saint-Germain fell apart, they would need to score twice to take the tie. Able to make the numbers count, Borini slipped in on 114 to make it 3 - 1. A priceless victory, and only at the expense of a few years shaved off the manager's life through stress.
Elsewhere Real Madrid gave last years finalists an apocalyptic thrashing, 9 - 0 at the Bernabau. It was such a victory that almost every fan of every team couldn't begin to look past the Spaniards for the ultimate prize this year.
Yet the mood about the Brighton offices was an optimistic one. Sure the league had all but fallen away, but they were on course to climb and achieve their target of Champions League qualification, and were still in the competition proper awaiting the draw for the next few rounds.
"Brighton and Hove Albion will play.......sorry about this......" Everyone waited on tenderhooks ".....Manchester City"
Cruyff immediately pulled the young passionate manager's head to his shoulder, letting him act out the cry he so badly wanted to have. A few laughed at the scene, Charlie Oatway the only remaining long serving coach at the club and former player boistrously sprung from his seat "When do Man City ever win any trophies?" All eyes turned to him "Once in a blue moon!"
The groans sounded out, he persisted "I was roleplaying with my girlfriend last night~" A few of the ladies began to leave for their desks "~She asked me if I could pretend to be Man City. I asked her why, she replied 'because I want you to be on top for most of the time, but then come second' "
"Yeah lets get back to work"
As if that draw couldn't get worse, the semi finals would see them play either Arsenal who had seen them off frequently this year yet somehow had failed repeatedly against other sides and sat in a substandard mid-table; or the ultra dominant Real Madrid side.
((Kele - Tenderoni - YouTube))
Before they would take on the sky blues in the big boys cup there were a few key league ties; against Guardiola's Manchester United and Bielsa's Gunners.
The red devils had quickly recovered from their opening day defeat in Sussex to make second place their own, and were the only team in the hunt for the leaders.
The media had hoped it would happen earlier in the season, to no avail as Honda had been injured. Fit as he was now, the matchup became the battle of the two Japanese stars shaping up on opposite sides. The pacific nation tuned in and turned up for the fixture, the game seen as more important than their domestic league offerings the way the hype had sold the event.
The advertising boards read as much in the Japanese alphabets as they did English, and unfamiliar chants sounded out from pockets within the stands. As they shuffled into positions for the kick off the manager cupped his hands.
"Honda!" he turned to see his boss at the edge of his technical area "Keisuke wa nihonjin no sa-ka no pu-rei-ya ichiban sekai desu!!" The crudely spoken incorrect sentence eliciting the wanted smile and a small shake of the head out of disbelief.
United started as the better side. Cameroon expensive signing Nicolas N'koulou was a tank at the back, shutting down each and every Brighton and setting up something promising. Cryuff started writing things down, the ball had to stay on the floor to beat the African, anything that drifted in the air towards the Manchester defence was being controlled by the dreadlock covered head.
Herrmann tried an early cross, whipping it into the air. N'koulou latched onto it, with one head sending it up to Rooney who got the best of Clyne in an instant. Darting with the ball close to his feet the dreamworks icon bore down on the goal looking threatening as he sized up whether to strike it from the edge or take another touch. Clyne refusing to be beaten came in with a sundering blow on the English forward, just inside the edge of the Brighton box.
Wayne recovered the ball as Brighton players feebly protested the blatant foul, lucky not to garner any further yellows beyond that of Nathanial's.
As the crowd began a mixture of holding their breath and jeering at the scenes unfolding, Kagawa stepped up, a few words with Rooney and somehow he convinced him to give up the spot kick, clearly eager to impress upon the occassion.
View attachment 293943 Butland poised himself, mimicking his England superior Joe Hart in tactics for the play. Kagawa drew his breath, eyes shutting for a moment.
The ball sailed high into the roof of the net, straight down the centre. United had the lead.
Kyriakos slung an arm around Clyne and shouted encouragement to the team as they prepared to kick off. It didn't make a difference, the reds came on again, slicing up the midfield and threading in the frontmen as Papadopoulos and Maximo made last ditch tackle after tackle.
Inevitable rang around the press box, it was coming.
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Kagawa was on form, collecting the ball on the wing he floated one high into the area, Rooney headed down, Welbeck stuck a foot out. Butland was beaten.
Half time saw puffed out cheeks, the red shirts began to bay for more Brighton blood to be spilled as they had threatened constantly.
But it had been seen time and again, the Seagulls emerged looking dangerous as the fear had been instilled.
Back fours were resolute, and each time they collected the ball and fed it up the line it was sprinted in a searching run, players piling forward at the smallest hint of an attack. The match had quickly become end to end stuff, radio commentators having trouble keeping up whenever the likes of N'koulou or Papadopoulos' names were required for the coverage.
Kagawa still looking a threat received the ball with his back to Brighton in the middle of the park, turning he saw only Honda as the fellow national dispossessed him in a flash. Keisuke didn't run with it nor dally, looking up with a snap movement of his head, he slapped it with the side of his boot sending a piercing pass along the ground, Borini using the fake run of Caprari to draw N'koulou away and find himself in a scoring position at last.
He shaped up, looking as if he was about to round David De Gea. A feint, with his weight left, his right foot stroked the ball beyond the keeper and into the United net. A lifeline for the Albion! Honda turned with a grin, receiving an incredulous look from United's Shinji as he waggled his index finger arrogantly.
Anyone could have scored the way the play was unfolding; Rooney screwed it wide when the goal was beckoning him, Tradito nearly broke the bar with a long range effort, reminiscent of a John Arne Riise thunderbolt in his Liverpool days.
The board went up with a bright 2 on it, not a lot of time. The manager sat with his assistant in the seats, unable to keep his feet still as he watched the tense encounter.
Caprari finding himself in some space went at the defence, twisting one side of the backpedaling fullback he shifted the other way generating the gap he desired. The ball propelled toward the goal, De Gea flung himself, an outstretched glove pushing it onto the post where it rebounded into the box. Honda squeezed beyond the Cameroonian centre back with a dip of his shoulder, looked at the ball, and slid it calmly into the open net with the side of his boot.
A precious point, and a thrilling game for the fans and neutrals alike. The Japanese top dogs had outdone themselves, coming together after the restart and immediate final whistle to share a friendly hug and few words; well aware that all lenses were trained upon them.
Eighth place Arsenal came next. A few changes from the encounter at Old Trafford and they were away.
Griezmann fired a beauty for Arsenal into the top corner in only the second minute of the game, just what Arsenal had wanted. Yet heads didn't dip, the 2016 Brighton side were unlike that at the end of the previous year. 10 minutes Caprari scored; 14 minutes Tradito added himself to the scoresheet. 19 minutes, Honda struck a sumptuous freekick beyond the Arsenal goalie.
Tradito then missed a penalty; it would have seemed alright with a two goal lead if not for what happened just after. Simao came in late on Ramsey, a rash challenge and a straight red card. Brighton held on till the break.
As the second half started, Honda dropped back from the attack to fill the void, Tradito taking on the ball winning duties of Simao. They looked comfortable still, so much so that Ademilson added insult to the Gunners with a slick finish in the 63rd minute. 4 - 1.
Arsenal looked to have no answer, yet the drama wasn't done. A bad challenge on Pogba with 15 minutes to go had the French youngster on his feet and in the face of the culprit. Heads met, the Arsenal boy went down as if shot with a magnum. Pogba joined Simao in the red card club. The Albion had only 9 men.
Every available body bar Ademilson alone upfront fell back and dug their trenches. Arsenal came on hard, and effort after effort looped into the crowd as the londoners fluffed their lines. By the time Lewandowski scored in the 88th minute, it was all but too late, a 4 - 2 win to Brighton, Caprari man of the match with his goal and two assists.
Q. "A brilliant win today and with some terrible circumstances to deal with, what are your thoughts on the red cards Simao and Pogba received?"
A. "They were entirely justified and we will be disciplining them in the way we do with all red cards. They know not to dive in or react to any foul play directed toward them, if they let the red mist descend then they are asking for a week or two in the stands."
Q. "And what do you think to the news that in the wake of the defeat Arsenal have decided to sack Marcelo with immediate effect?"
A. "What?! You must be joking; already?!" He released a long breath with wide eyes "Poor man is all I can say; sure the league results haven't been too kind but my lads who kept their cool today were out of this world, no team on the planet could have stopped them. I mean they (Arsenal) have a quarter final tie with Real Madrid in a few days! Ridiculous!"
And that match went 3 - 0 to Madrid in Spain. It seemed whoever triumphed from the Sky Blues and the Seagulls would be doing their best against the Spanish captial's finest.
The rivals faced up for their own massive fixture.
3 - 0 to Brighton at home. Simao getting the first, his inclusion some playing time as he would be missing the next few games in the league. Creemers and Borini bagged the others, yet the play itself hadn't been great. Yellow cards were galore, and both managers exchanged the odd worried glance everytime a player was branished with the punishment, fearful that their options might be limited should they collect anymore of the unwelcome repercusions.
Arsenal then announced that they had lured Luciano Spaletti away from Zenit, likely another hefty compensation fee for their second manager of the season. He had a few days to prepare, his face plastered on the television screens as he decided to attend the Al Mubarek second leg, ever the optimist.
As both Man City and Brighton began the play, the football looked nervy. Challenges were less forthcoming as clearly both managers had told them to tone it down, don't risk the 50 50's so much else risk ruling themselves out of the next round. Getting to the end of 45 minutes, the only incident had been Yaya Toure pulling up with a problem, and it was looking more and more like Brighton would cruise through without much of a battle to be had.
Mancini armed his team with some strong words for after the break, the soft approach with belief they would get something in the first half had gone, and with the hard tackling came the abandonment of looking after the back.
Jay Rodriguez didn't take long to get City the lead, a second following 15 minutes later with Sergio Aguero ramping up the temperature inside the stadium as they reduced the aggregate to only 1 goal seperating the sides.
It looked as if it would be going to extra-time as Manchester left only Joe Hart to guard the net, every player in a light blue shirt making runs wherever they saw an opportunity, no regard for their defensive duties.
View attachment 294009 There was no fairytail comeback for the mancunians, Brighton progressed.
A day later the bookmakers were laughing all the way. At the Emirates; Arsenal 6, Real Madrid 1. Spaletti was an instant Gunners hero, they knew little about him so far, but whoever he was he was a damned miracle worker.
The manager began to watch the videos, analyse the tactics and philosophy of the former Roma and Zenit man.
By the time the great theme was being played in the stadium for the all English semi, he felt ready.
Home: Brighton 1 - 0 Arsenal. Creemers 19 minutes.
Away: Arsenal 1 - 2 Brighton. Honda 25 minutes, Antonio Valencia 38, Tradito 52.
The Champions League final again. Barcelona again.
Results in the league were brilliant, the new year charge had given them the chance to finally get third place and automatic Champions League football provided the final went sour. Anfield and Liverpool, they needed a win to see off Stoke and Chelsea for the spot. 1 - 0 to the Albion and third place.
View attachment 294010 Manchester City pipped United for the title.
Cornered amidst the celebrations, a wayward question found a cheerful Mancini happy to answer for a change.
Q. "The Champions League final is just over a week away, who do you want to win it?"
A. "Errr....well I think Brighton to win this match, because errrr, they beat us in the Quarter finals, so aaaa- I hope they can prove that if we were still in it we would be the ones lifting the trophy."
((Halo - Covenant Dance - YouTube))
All that remained was the biggest club game of all. The lights of Milan lit up for the spectacle, the San Siro's 80,000 seats all taken eagerly. 21st of May 2016.
Barcelona wern't the out and out favourites. Brighton had not only got the better of them before, but the Catalan giants were without some of their major stars. Eden Hazard, the £40 million+ signing from Chelsea and Sergio Busquets were injured a few weeks prior, but far more importantly, Lionel Messi had ruled himself out with an injury just a week before.
There was no denying that the most recognisable club in the world had the better of the sides though, their bench teeming with game changers. Coaches David Villa and Xavi both delighted in the reunion with their former teammates, handshakes and hugs aplenty.
The major threat came from Cesc Fabregas, who had torn up the competition for his colours. Gearing up for the final as the players filed out he looked as if he had the killer instinct with him.
Play started smartly as the cheers went up in a vie for supremacy of the audio from the fans. Barcelona were sharp, the tika-taka football easy on the eye and smoothly grasping the control of the game.
5 minutes in and a cross came flying into the Brighton box; Fabregas launched himself, flung his head at it and hit the back of the net.
Heads went into hands. The whistle blew, a flag was up and it was disallowed! That looked dubious, a little pushing in the area but no offside and no elbows. They'd take it regardless; it was the first touch of the ball for Brighton.
They went on the attack, the manager had decided they couldn't just shut up shop and nick just the one, they would have to get out there and outplay the Spanish. Tradito pushed it to Simao, the Mozambique player shrugging off an attempt at a foul by Pedro as he sped up, looking like the imposing Yaya Toure on one of his demolition runs. Iniesta stuck his foot out, Simao weaved, sidestepping him with a piece of footwork that looked alien to a man of his build.
Gerard Pique measured up to the tank, neither had control of it as they pushed heavily with outreaching arms. Simao with his back to the Barcelona goal bashed his heel on it, past Pique it went.
Borini found it. With one touch to set himself, his right boot kissed the leather. 1 - 0.
Pedro and Fabregas kicked off, a quick touch back to the midfield and both players pushed forward. The ball found them in a few seconds, and wrong footing Brazilian Maximo - Pedro clipped the outside of the post. So close to an instant reply.
Then the fouls returned. Barca began upending Brighton players whenever they got the chance it seemed, the Albion getting drawn into doing the same back. The yellow card went up for 5 or 6 faces, play slowed with the free kicks breaking up the flow.
It looked as if Barcelona might gain the edge in the scrappy affair, as their antics drew fouls closer to the Brighton area a free kick effort on goal looked the way they would find a route back into the tie. 25 yards out, Fabregas went down.
The referee rushed over, the Brighton manager incensed at what was unfolding, he went down far too softly. The spaniard got to his feet. A yellow card for diving, his second! The red card came out, and Barcelona were down to 10 men.
Albion tried to push the advantage and get forward, add another goal and put the tie well and truly in their hands, but the fouls and loathsome play remained the galvanising force. 45+1 minutes; Honda clipped the heel of Alba, arms flailed as he launched into the air, his face a picture of contorted lines drawn from the apparent stab wound he had been dealt. As he rolled on the floor clutching his boot, Honda received his second yellow, and his marching orders along with it.
10 men apiece, the referee was doing a superb job handling the dirty proceedings it was agreed upon as the replays cycled the major talking points.
View attachment 294018 Guardiola's replacement Tito Vilanova had been doing a brilliant job at the Catalans, and looked to have earnt his wage packet when the teams re-emerged; changes to the formation and lineup taking place.
Cryuff leant to the manager in the dugout; smiles exchanged, they had called it perfectly.
As Brighton resumed the action, short passing play and closing down like both teams were used to took the place of the filth on show before. They cancelled one another out, no forwards could break past the rear guard, Papadopoulos and Pique both storming their tasks like beasts.
View attachment 294020 Messi watched from the bench with his teammates, the obvious frustration and wishing he was out there evident and agonising to look at.
The giant screen's clock skipped each time the fans looked to it, the play without goals, yet fast and sugar-coated. A rainbow flick from Dutch wonderkid Creemers; roulettes from Iniesta. A simple Cryuff turn had the cameras on the footballing great and his smile of appriciation.
88 minutes. Creemers saw Dani Alves out of position, pushed up too far in search of the equaliser. Dashing into the channel, the Brazilian spotted his mistake too late, the Dutchman received the looping ball with a wonderous first touch to bring it under his spell. The crowd grew with excitement, camera flashes started to blitz the stadium as the left foot of David sent the ball toward the penalty spot.
Step in, Simao, man of the match.
2 - 0.
They saw out the clock, and the celebrations started.
((36 - Going Home (STARGATE THE DELUXE EDITION O.S.T.) - YouTube))
The Manager looked around him as the stands went nuts, the players tore back and forth with arms held out in sheer unadulterated joy. Flags passed from the fans to the heroes on the pitch, great clusters of staff and players danced as the Barcelona boys lay crashed out on the turf, sobbing and staring at the stars.
There was nothing but relief inside of him, a look of pure stun. No sorrow to be had from the gut wrenching feeling of a nearly, they really had done it despite the horrendous odds thanks to their beleaguered start to the season.
A look into the stands saw the screaming faces of ectasy and pride, hugging one another as they could do nothing but bounce around and shake the hand of any person not looking like they wanted the ground to open up.
He turned to his assistant, embracing the old man as they each refused to cease grinning from ear to ear. Cryuff held him back at arms length a moment before walking shoulder to shoulder to join the chorus of jumping 'Champione Champione Ole Ole Ole!'
With a silent drum roll, Papadopoulos savoured the power he had over the thousands desperately wanting the prize to be thrown up to them. Up pumped his arms, the greatest club trophy was theirs once again! The streamers fired their payload over the fantasy-feeling display. They would be welcomed as gods in their city.
Premier League Winners: Manchester City 86 pts.
Champions League: Brighton 73 pts (winners), Manchester United 85 pts, Stoke 72 pts.
Europa League: Everton 58 pts (FA Cup Winners), Chelsea 72 pts, Tottenham 61 pts.
Relagated: Wigan 31 pts, Aston Villa 28 pts, Fulham 23 pts.
League Top Scorer: Wayne Rooney 22 goals.
F.A. Cup Winners: Everton, Runners-up: Swansea
Captial One Cup Winners: Brighton, Runners-up: Tottenham
Europa League Winners: Spartak Moscow, Runners-up: Bayer Leverkusen
Champions League Winners: Brighton, Runners-up: Barcelona
