Harbinger Of Glory

Leo pulled into the Wigan complex and was barely out of the car before Jake’s voice came from somewhere behind him.

He turned and saw Jake crossing the lot toward him at pace, with Ezra a few steps behind and already looking like he was tired before the day had even begun.

Leo saw this, shook his head and smiled before Jake reached him.

”I miss you too,” Leo said before Jake could even bring up his shenanigans.

”I watched the Italy game,” Jake said as Leo fist-bumped Ezra.

”Even the one you didn’t play in, and I’m going to say something, and I need you to receive it well.”

”Go on,” Leo said as he raised his brow at Jake.

”Right now, talking purely about midfielders, you could give most of them in the world a run for their money.”

Leo laughed, shaking his head as they made their way further into the complex.

”I’m glad you think so.”

”I don’t think so,” Jake said. ”I know so.”

The players welcomed Leo back the moment he walked into the training ground, more than a few of them having watched Italy’s win over Ukraine and finding one excuse or another to bring it up before he could even reach the changing room.

His own day, however, had very little to do with football.

Dawson kept him away from the pitch entirely, sending him from the massage room to the recovery pool and back again while the rest of the squad trained outside.

It was the sort of routine every player returning from international duty knew not to argue with, especially after those ninety hard minutes.

Leo didn’t join the group until later that afternoon.

By then, everyone had settled into the meeting room, and Dawson already had Fulham’s footage paused on the projector, remote in hand, ready to begin taking the squad through what awaited them next.

”Marco Silva,” he said, ”has done something at that club that doesn’t get talked about enough. He hasn’t just changed their results. He’s changed how they think about the game.

And the players he has available to him now reflect that.”

He moved through the names: names like Jimenez, Willian, Iwobi, Rodrigo Muniz, Leno in goal, a very good squad on paper that had no business being so good considering just a couple of years ago, they had also been relegated to the Championship.

”They have quality throughout,” Dawson continued.

”But quality isn’t the issue. Cohesion beats quality if the team with the cohesion also has the talent to match, and I believe we do.”

The players nodded, keenly listening to their manager’s words as he moved to the tactical breakdown, walking through Fulham’s 4-3-3.

The way they built from the back with the centre-backs splitting wide to create angles for the goalkeeper, the way Palhinha sat as the pivot connecting defence to attack and the way their midfielders formed triangles to move the ball through the lines.

He talked about their wide rotations, fullbacks and wingers and central midfielders interchanging positions, the number ten drifting wide to open central space.

And at the same time, the way their forwards, such as Raul Jimenez or, until most recently, Aleksander Mitrovic, dropped deep to link play while the fullbacks, Castagne particularly, provided the width and the crossing options with the timing of overlaps that had broken defensive blocks all season.

”This allows Fulham to exploit both central and wide channels effectively,” he said, and looked at the room.

”Which means we can’t be static. If we sit in a fixed shape against them, they will find the gaps because they’re coached specifically to find gaps in fixed shapes.”

After that, he set the remote down and stepped forward.

”You have the afternoon. Think about what I’ve said, as that is what we will be working on tomorrow, but not just that. Tomorrow we will also be working on the offside trap and the wide rotations. That’s where we’ll be spending our time.”

”It might seem so sudden, but do not worry. I trust my ability to convey things quickly enough, and much more than that, I trust you guys to get it quickly.”

He caught Leo’s eye as the rest of the squad began filing out and jerked his head towards the office, and Leo followed without a word.

The door clicked shut behind them, muting the noise from the corridor almost completely.

Dawson lowered himself into his chair but didn’t speak immediately.

Instead, he reached for the tablet on his desk, glanced over a sheet he had on his table one last time, then set it aside and looked up.

”I was going to give you the weekend off,” he said as Leo waited.

”That’s what my first instinct told me. All the travelling that comes with an international break... your body deserves the recovery.”

He leaned back in his chair.

”Then I thought about Fulham again.”

Leo smiled faintly.

”And?”

”And now I’ve got a problem.”

That drew a small chuckle from Leo.

”I am going to need you to do a bit of what I’ve thought you so far in your career.”

The smile disappeared as Dawson continued.

”They’re one of the best sides in the league at dragging defenders where they don’t want to go.

Their forwards don’t just make runs to receive the ball. Half the time they’re making them to move the line and open space for someone else.”

He reached for the remote and froze an image on the monitor behind his desk.

”Let’s have a watch at this!”

The clip rolled as the Fulham forward bolted wide, forcing the opponent centre-back to follow.

Following that, a midfielder immediately attacked the space that had been left behind, and immediately that happened, Dawson paused it.

”They’re patient. They’ll repeat this over and over until someone bites, and someone is always going to bite.”

Leo studied the screen for a moment before turning to face Dawson.

”So you don’t want us following them.”

”I can’t stop us following them, but if we do so, it should be on our own terms, not because they are stringing us along.”

Dawson pointed at the defensive line.

”Bastoni was controlling that line for Italy the other night,” he said as his eyes settled on Leo.

”I want you doing the same here.”

Leo nodded slowly before raising his head.

”Wait...”

”I know, I know,” Dawson cut him off.

”You won’t be doing it alone. I’ll have O’Shea looking at your movements all the time.”

After that, Dawson unpaused the clip.

”A very good offside trap will win us this game if we get it right. We have to know the trigger, and after watching their tapes for a while, I’ve noticed that the trigger isn’t the runner.”

”It’s the passer,” Leo immediately said as Dawson nodded with a smile.

”Stop looking like a proud father and let’s move on,” Leo said with an annoyed look as Dawson let another Fulham attack play through before pausing it again.

”Once the passer commits, your decision has already been made.”

”As I said, you and O’Shea will really have to be in tune before we attempt this.”

”If one of you goes and the other doesn’t, we’re finished.”

Leo looked back at the frozen image before nodding.

”We’ll get it right.”

”I know,” Dawson said as he stood to his feet.

”Tomorrow’s for that.”