Glory Of The Football Manager System

Twenty-three minutes.

Eze finally got the ball off McArthur in midfield. He took one touch with the outside of his left to take it past Cleverley, who had been pressing him, and dropped his shoulder. The dropped shoulder bought him three yards. The three yards bought him the sight line down the left where Wilf had peeled off the touchline into the half-space.

He played it to Wilf.

Wilf took it on the half-turn. Took it past Janmaat with one stepover. Did not cross. Played it square along the byline back to Eze, who had continued his run into the box from the deep position he had played the original pass from.

Eze did not shoot.

Eze had Olise on the back post. Olise had drifted across from the right wing the way Olise drifted across when he knew something was about to happen on the other side of the pitch. Eze played the ball with the outside of his right foot across the six-yard line in front of the keeper, low and hard, into the space between Karnezis at the near post and Holebas at the far post.

Olise got there on the half-volley.

The ball went in. Olise turned and walked back to the centre circle.

Wilf got to Eze first and grabbed the back of his neck. Eze got to Wilf back. The two of them came across the pitch towards Olise the way the two of them had come across the training-ground pitch in March on the day they had decided in their heads, between themselves, that they were going to be the three forwards at this football club for the next ten years.

The Holmesdale stood for the goal. Then the Holmesdale stayed standing because the Holmesdale could see what they had just watched.

Forty-third minute. Same passage, opposite end of the pitch.

This time it started with Wilf on the left. He turned Janmaat inside, drew Doucouré across, and slid it into the half-space for Olise who had drifted across from the right again because Olise had decided in the first half that drifting across was where he was scoring his goals today.

Olise took one touch. Did not shoot. Wilf had told him at half-time on the touchline of the match they had played in his head a hundred times that the way to break Watford’s diamond was to play the same ball back and forth between left and right of their midfield until their midfield could not breathe, and Olise had remembered.

Olise played it back to Eze, who had filled the central space because the central space was always where Eze ended up.

Eze on the half-turn, took one touch, slid it through the gap between the two Watford centre-backs that opened because both centre-backs had been watching Olise.

Through the gap was Pato.

Pato had been on the line all afternoon and he was on the line now. He took it in his stride, took it round Karnezis, and rolled it into the empty net the way Pato rolled balls into empty nets when Pato was thirty years old and on a one-year deal and trying to play himself into a Brazil shirt at the World Cup in eight weeks.

Two-nil at half-time.

The dressing room at half-time was four minutes of water and one minute of me. *Same shape. The plan is working. We do not chase the third. The third will come if we keep doing what we have done. Wilf, Eze, Michael - you three stay on the pitch for the next fifteen, then I take you off. The bench gets the last half hour. The lads in the stand get the last twenty.*

The plan worked. We did not score the third. We did not need to.

Sixty minutes I took Wilf and Eze off together. Aviero on for Eze. Semenyo on for Wilf. Olise stayed on because Olise had not played enough since Wednesday to need the rest.

Sixty-eight minutes Aviero put Olise in behind the back four. The shot was a yard wide. Olise did not change expression.

Seventy minutes Lewis Grant came on for Tomkins. The senior in the back four went off to the Holmesdale standing, and the U18 captain Hannam took the back four.

Eighty-three minutes Tyler Webb came on for Hannam to give him five minutes of Premier League football.

Eighty-five minutes Ryan Fletcher made the only save he had to make all afternoon. Deeney on the volley from the edge of the area. Straight at Ryan. Ryan caught it with both hands and went down with it as if he had been catching balls from Deeney in a Premier League afternoon for ten years. He had not.

Ninety plus three the referee blew it. Two-nil. Clean sheet on debut for Ryan Fletcher.

The Holmesdale stood for him as he walked off and they sang the song they had made for him on Wednesday night and they kept singing it as he went down the tunnel.

[FULL TIME: Crystal Palace 2–0 Watford.]

[Goals: Olise 23’, Pato 43’.]

[Premier League: 2nd. P32 W25 D5 L2. 80 points.]

[Manager Record: P53 W43 D7 L2.]

[Tunnel. 17:02 BST.]

Sarah caught me at the bottom of the tunnel.

”City.”

”City.”

”City beat West Ham one-nil.”

”All right.”

”Four points still.”

”Four points still.”

”Six matches left.”

”Six matches left.”

She did not move from the wall.

”Dougie wants ten minutes Monday morning. James and Mateo. Both moving.”

”Moving how?”

”James said yes through Jorge on Friday. Madrid have confirmed they are willing to talk in the first week of May. Mateo is harder. Madrid have not said yes. Madrid have not said no. Dougie thinks we are inside two weeks of a yes if we hold the line. He wants ten minutes to talk you through both.”

”Monday at what time?”

”Ten.”

”Ten.”

”And one more.”

”Yeah.”

”Southampton on Saturday at Wembley. Manchester United and Chelsea in the other semi-final on Sunday. City out of the cup. They lost to Wigan in the fifth round eight weeks ago. We have already played the only team in the country at our level this season and we knocked them out in the quarter-final, and now there is nobody in the four left who has played the football we have played this season.”

”Sarah.”

”Yeah.”

”We have not won anything yet.”

”No. But Mauricio Pellegrino at Southampton is not going to be the man who beats us at Wembley. José Mourinho or Antonio Conte might be. We will not face either of them next Saturday because Southampton is who we drew. We will face Southampton.”

”All right.”

She went off to find Bray.

[Selhurst Park. Boardroom. 20:00 BST.]

Steve Parish was at the head of the boardroom table.

There were five other men round the table. I knew three of them. The other two were people I had seen at Selhurst across the season at home matches and never been introduced to.

There was nobody from Netflix in the room.

There were two laptops open at one end of the table and a stack of papers in front of Steve. There was a bottle of red wine open on the side table and seven glasses next to it of which two had been poured and five had not been.

Steve was wearing a shirt with a collar.

I was wearing a shirt with a collar.

”Daniel.”

”Steve.”

”Sit down.”

I sat down.

”What we are about to talk about does not leave this room until the announcement next Wednesday. Not Sarah. Not Bray. Not Jessica. Not Emma. Nobody. We agreed Tuesday morning is the contract extension. Tuesday morning will still be the contract extension. What we are about to talk about now is the thing that goes on the back of the contract extension on Wednesday morning.”

I looked at him.

”All right.”

”There is a board decision being made at this table tonight, Daniel. Six people in this room have to agree on it. I am one of them. The other five are in this room. The decision is whether you join the board of Crystal Palace Football Club, with shares, as a director, effective the first of June. The decision is mine and I have already made it. The decision of the other five is theirs.”

The room went quiet.

I did not say anything for a long time.

Steve waited.

The other five waited.