Glory Of The Football Manager System

[Beckenham. Thursday 2 August 2018.]

Marcus put it on the wall of the analysts’ room at 8 in the morning, on the projector, next to a clip of Manchester City’s first 12 minutes against Arsenal in April.

UNITED KINGDOM. TV. TODAY. 1. THE WALSH WAY.

”You have knocked a cooking programme off,” he said.

”Marcus.”

”I am telling you because 30 of them have seen it and 1 of them is going to say something to you today and I did not want it to be a surprise.” He clicked back to City. ”Right. Fernandinho drops between the centre-halves in the 4th minute and does not come out again for an hour.”

That is the only conversation anybody in that building had about it.

3 weeks later a man in a newspaper wrote 900 words about how Crystal Palace had become a television programme.

We watched Manchester City for 40 minutes and then we went out on the grass.

Prrrrp.

Sarah took the first hour and it is the best session we have had since we landed.

11 v 11, full pitch, and the rule was 4 seconds. Lose it, win it back inside 4, and if you did not you came off and did a lap while 21 men carried on without you.

Christian Benteke did a lap in the 3rd minute.

Tk. Tk-tk.

Nobody did one after minute 11.

Then we did City for 40 minutes, and City is 1 problem and it has a name.

Fernandinho drops between their centre-halves the second Ederson has it, and their full backs go 40 yards up the touchline, and you are suddenly pressing a back 3 with your front 3 and there is a spare man in the middle of a football pitch wearing number 25.

Everybody in England knows that. Everybody in England has been beaten by it.

So we did not press the back 3.

We put Christian Benteke on Fernandinho and told him to go nowhere else all afternoon, and we let John Stones and Aymeric Laporte have the ball, and Jarrod Bowen and James Rodríguez tucked in behind Benteke to make a triangle round the spare man.

”They will have 65 per cent,” I said.

”They will have 70,” Marcus said.

”They can have 70. They are not having Fernandinho.”

We ran it 14 times. It came apart 4 times and 3 of the 4 were Benteke going 5 yards too far, and by the 12th one he was stood in that space with his hands behind his back watching Stones pass sideways to Laporte.

”HE IS BORED!” Bray, from the halfway line. ”LOOK AT HIM! HE IS BORED, CHRISTIAN!”

Pierre-Emile Højbjerg filled 4 times and Rúben Neves went early twice and stayed twice, and neither of them looked at the bench once to see whether it was right.

And Michael Olise, 16 years old, went past Joel Ward on the outside.

Joel Ward is 28. He has 250 appearances for this football club. He turned round and applauded a 16-year-old with his hands above his head in front of everybody on that pitch.

”OH.”

Hahahaha.

”Do that on Sunday,” Ward shouted at him, ”and I will buy you a car.”

”He cannot drive,” said Nya Kirby.

The signed pages went back at 11 with the same courier who had brought them at 2 o’clock the afternoon before.

24 pages. 11 signatures. Sarah witnessed 3 of them on Wednesday evening and did not read a word of it, and the man would not take the envelope off me until I had shown him something with my face on it.

Scritch.

The last page had a box I had to initial, and next to the box it said I understood that any disclosure, in any medium, to any person, would be actionable.

”Do you know what you have signed?” Sarah said.

”No.”

”You have not read it?”

”I have read all 24 pages twice. I still do not know what I have signed. It does not say what the film is, it does not say who is in it, and it does not say what I am doing.” I put the pen down. ”It says Production 4471.”

”Production 4471.”

”Sides come at 9 tomorrow morning. 1 scene. I hand them back tomorrow night.”

Sarah looked at the back of that envelope for a while.

”Daniel.”

”Yes.”

”Is your mother going to be able to watch it?”

I had not thought about that once in 3 months.

Knock knock.

James Tomkins came in at 20 to 1 and shut the door behind him, and I knew before he sat down.

You always know. They stand differently.

”Gaffer.”

”James.”

”I want to go.”

I did not say anything for a second, and it was not surprise.

James Tomkins is 29 years old. He has been at this football club since 2016. Last season he made 9 league starts, and in the 5 games that kept us up in April 2017 he played all 5, and every morning for 2 years he has been the first senior player through those doors.

And on Sunday, at Wembley, against Manchester City, he was not going to be in the 18.

”Who?” I said.

”Everton have rung my agent twice.”

”And?”

”And they will play me. Not 9 games. Play me.” He had his hands on his knees. ”Gaffer, I am 29. I have got 3 years left in me at this level and last week you bought a 20-year-old off Manchester United. I am not stupid and I am not sulking.

”Scott. Mama. Tarky. Ibrahima. And now Axel. That is 5 for 2 shirts and I am 6th.”

”You are not 6th.”

”Gaffer.”

”You are 4th and you have been 4th since March. 4th is the one who gets 9 starts and spends every June telling himself next year is different.”

He sat back in that chair.

”Right,” he said. ”Well. That makes it easier.”

I did not talk him out of it and I did not want to.

I have got 5 centre-halves for 2 shirts. A boy of 20 who has been in the building 6 days, a boy of 19 who made the same mistake 4 times against Benfica and needs 30 matches to stop making it, and 3 men the wrong side of 28.

James Tomkins is worth 35 million pounds to somebody else and 9 league starts to me.

Everybody at that Sky desk on Tuesday night spent 20 minutes arguing about whether we sell men who have stopped getting better.

Nobody said the other half of it. Sometimes a man is still getting better and you have not got a shirt for him, and if you keep him out of sentiment you have stolen 3 years off him.

”I will not stand in your way,” I said. ”And I am going to tell you what I told 6 of them yesterday, because it still counts. You hear things from me first.

”So: Steve will want 35. Everton will offer 25 and go to 30. And if they get to 32 I am going to advise him to take it, because you are 29 and there is not another one coming.”

Tomkins sat there for a bit.

”You could have got 40 for me in a year.”

”You have not got a year, James. You have got until the 9th at 5 o’clock, same as everybody else.”

He stood up and put his hand out and I shook it, and then he stopped at the door.

”Gaffer. Sunday.”

”Go on.”

”Put me on the bench. Not in the 18. Just on the bench in a suit.” He was not looking at me. ”I have been here 2 years and I would like to have been at Wembley with them.”

He was in a suit on Sunday, 3 rows back with Rebecca and Steve Parish, and he clapped them off at full time with everybody else.

Bzzz.

Dougie rang at 4 and started with the bad one.

”Benfica have come back on Félix.”

”Go on.”

”60.”

I did not say anything.

”They have not renegotiated the clause yet and they are not going to now, because they do not have to. Somebody has told them what they have got. They will do a deal at 60 million euros and Mendes will do the personal terms in a week.” A chair went. ”That is 53 and a half million pounds for an 18-year-old with 4 first team appearances.”

”We have got 130 in the bank.”

”We have got 130 in the bank and a wage bill about to go up 38 and a half million a year over 5 years, and a stand that is 250 million pounds, and if you spend 53 and a half on a boy who has played 4 matches and he does not come off, you are not a clever manager any more.

”You are the man who spent 53 million on a teenager.”

”Dougie.”

”I am not telling you no, son. It is not my money and it is not my job.” He let that sit. ”I am telling you it is 4 times what we have ever paid for anybody, and I want you to say out loud whether you would have paid it for Gnabry at 18, because you would not have.”

***

Thank you to Sir nameyelus for the support.