Glory Of The Football Manager System

I went home. I had to. I had not seen Emma since Wednesday and she had filed at four in the morning and not been to bed since.

She was on the sofa in the academy hoodie and not much else. Hair tied up loose with strands escaped at her neck. Bare legs folded under her. Sky Sports News on with the sound off. She did not stand up when I came in.

She put her hand out and I sat down next to her and she put her head on my shoulder for ten seconds and breathed against my throat. Her hand was on the inside of my thigh. I had not seen her since Wednesday morning and I felt the gap of the two days then, in the way she pressed her face against my neck and stayed there.

”Five thousand words.”

”I know.”

She put her mouth on mine for ten seconds, slow, and then put her forehead against my forehead.

”I cried four times writing it. I cried twice editing it. I cried when I filed it. I have eight hundred and fifty thousand reads since the whistle.”

”That’s a lot.”

”It’s the most-read piece The Athletic has had in twelve months. There is a man in Iowa who has emailed me. He has not been to a football match in his life but he watched the second half through a stream on his sister’s iPad and he wants to know how to buy a Palace shirt.”

”Tell him to go to the official site.”

”I told him to go to the official site. He has bought three shirts. He is sending one to his sister in Ohio.” She paused. ”Daniel.”

”Yeah.”

”You have done something.”

”We have done something.”

”You. The team did the football. You did the something.”

”Em.”

”I know. Take a shower. I’ll make you a coffee. The draw is at twelve. We’ll watch it together.”

I went upstairs. I came back down at quarter to twelve in a tracksuit with wet hair. Emma had Sky Sports News on now with the sound up.

Sky’s split-screen had Geoff Shreeves reporting from outside the UEFA building on the left and the UEFA pool feed on the right. Éric Abidal, the Europa League final ambassador, was at the podium reading out the eight clubs in the draw. Arsenal. Lazio. RB Salzburg. CSKA Moskva. Sporting CP. RB Leipzig. Marseille. Crystal Palace.

Emma muted it for a second.

”Marseille and Lazio. You played them in the group.”

”Yeah.”

”Open draw from the round of sixteen. No seedings. No restrictions on who plays who.”

”Yeah.”

”You don’t want Marseille.”

”I don’t want anyone twice. We saw Marseille in September. Lazio in October and December. The rest of them we have not seen and they have not seen us, which gives us and them an even playing field. You go in twice, the second match is harder for the side that won the first one.”

”You won both Marseilles.”

”I know. That makes the third one a hundred times harder.”

She turned the sound back up.

There was a graphic on Sky’s side of the screen. The graphic listed Palace’s records under Danny. It scrolled.

FIRST MAJOR TROPHY: CARABAO CUP, 2018.

FIRST EUROPEAN CAMPAIGN: 2017/18.

FIRST EUROPEAN QUARTER-FINAL: 2018.

PREMIER LEAGUE FORM: 19 MATCHES UNBEATEN.

PROJECTED FINISH (BBC MODEL): 2nd, 85 points.

”Eighty-five?” Emma said.

”Win five of the nine and the BBC has us on eighty-five. BBC is being cautious. Seven of nine and we’re on ninety-one.”

”What’s Coppell’s record again?”

”Sixty-nine.”

”Daniel.”

”Yeah.”

”You’ve already passed him.”

”By a point.”

”And the wins?”

”Twenty-two. He had twenty-nine.”

”Seven of nine.”

”Seven of nine. And tomorrow is the cup, so the league column does not move until West Brom away.”

”Twenty-three in eight days’ time.”

”Twenty-three in eight days’ time.”

The draw began. Abidal announced the first name. Crystal Palace. The graphic on Sky’s side of the screen put the badge in the top-left of a bracket. Abidal announced the second name.

It was RB Salzburg.

I sat back on the sofa.

Emma sat up straight.

”Did he just.”

”Yeah.”

”You’re going to Austria.”

”Yeah.”

”Marco Rose.”

”Yeah.”

She did not say anything for ten seconds. Then she said, ”They beat Dortmund.”

”Last week.”

”Their fans boycotted the second leg. Donated the money to the old Salzburg club. I wrote about it on Thursday morning. There’s a piece in the Athletic on it that’s already filed.”

”Yeah.”

”Two history-makers in a quarter-final. They have never been in one. We have never been in one. One of you goes through. The other one doesn’t. Daniel, this is the tie of the round.”

”It is.”

”Sarah will have a plan inside of an hour.”

”Sarah already has a plan.”

My phone buzzed. It was Sarah.

I’m at Beckenham. I’ve already got the Salzburg-Dortmund footage queued up. Both legs. And the UEFA Youth League final from 2017. Marco Rose has been preparing this team for this competition since they were fifteen. We need to know exactly how. Marseille and Lazio were the only two teams that would have been easier.

I texted back.

Half an hour.

I kissed Emma on the mouth. She held the back of my neck for a second longer than she needed to and let me feel her smile against my lip before she let go. I got the car keys.

”Daniel.”

”Yeah.”

”Come home at six. Mum called twice and Frankie called three times and your phone has been off since Madrid. Talk to them when you get back. I have got to write again. There’s a thousand-word piece about Salzburg that needs to be filed by eight, and a second one on Marco Rose that the Athletic wants for Saturday morning.”

”Six.”

”Six.”

[Beckenham. 12:51 GMT.]

The canteen had Sky Sports News on the wall and half the players in it. Sakho with his coat on a chair. Konaté with the butterfly stitch. Zaha drinking a smoothie. Bojan eating a flapjack. Bray and Steele at the corner table. Marcus at his laptop next to Sarah. Rebecca with her medical board.

The Sky Sports News had moved on to the QF teams. There was a graphic comparing the eight remaining teams’ Champions-League experience versus our zero. Then there was a longer graphic about Palace, which was the one I sat down to watch.

CRYSTAL PALACE UNDER DANNY WALSH

Manager record: P59 W45 D8 L6.

Premier League win percentage: 79% (highest in club history).

Major trophies: 1 (Carabao Cup, first in club history).

Youth Trophies: FA Youth Cup and the U18 PL Nationals

European campaigns: 1 (Europa League 17/18, first in club history).

European matches: 11 played, 8 won, 2 drawn, 1 lost.

Premier League position: 2nd (on pace for highest finish in club history).

Points after 28 matches: 70 (Coppell’s 1990-91 record: 69 across 38, already surpassed).

Unbeaten run: 19 PL matches (longest in club Premier League history).

Consecutive PL wins: 11 (Stoke away, December → Liverpool away, February, draw).

Academy debutants: 9 (most in any single Palace season).

Youngest Palace Premier League scorer: Michael Olise, 16y 2m 14d.

The screen held the graphic.

Konaté was reading it with his arms folded. Sakho was watching with his head a little to the side. Pato whistled. Bojan said, ”Nine? Was it really nine academy lads?”

Sarah did not look up from her laptop. ”Eleven, if you count Aviero in the EFL Cup tie at West Ham. Sky’s only got nine because they don’t count the academy players who came on for under five minutes.”

”Bloody hell,” Bojan said, which was out of place from the spaniard.

Thank you to Sir nameyelus for the Massage Chair.