Managerial disloyalty and contractual dishonour - case in point.

A curious and amusing situation has just occurred in my game, a theatrical travesty in which I happened to assume the role of the villain.

I had been manager of Sevilla, a club that, by the current year of 2019, was stagnating in its own mediocrity, if not rapidly descending into obscurity.. Riddled with escalating debt, burdened with a squad of ageing, overpaid has-beens, the future for the Andalusian outfit was indeed bleak. Of course, being the beneficiaries of the services of such a pre-eminent manager as myself, whose glittering distinctions included two Serie A titles and a World Cup trophy amongst other things, was of great boon and encouragement to the Sevilla board, but they nevertheless realised that I was a great manager, not a miracle worker, and that I could not instantaneously cure the club of its ailments. Hence, they set a rather pragmatic and undemanding target for the season: to secure a respectable position in the league. And after a sporadic and inconsistent start to the season, the club seemed to be on its way to achieving its goals; 10 games into the season, the club was occupying 11th position, with 2-3 games in hand over its immediate competitors. A few victories and a draw could easily propel the Sevilla into 8th spot.

Just as there was a small glimmer of hope for Sevilla, disaster struck. It all began in a fairly innocuous fashion; Victor Fernandez, the coach of Zaragoza, publicly expressed his desire to clad himself in the colours of Liverpool, who, after a torrid start to their season, where languishing in the bottom of half of the table (sounds familiar, no?), and who were on the verge of parting ways with Gasperini, who was cleary gasping for air. Unsurprisingly, Zaragoza did not look fondly upon Fernandez's lack of fidelity, and he swiftly found himself out in the cold. Not to be outdone for treachery and ambition, I had decided to replicate Fernandez's infamy, especially since I considered myself - rightfully - as a much better candidate for the task of restoring Liverpool to its leviathan status. Of course, me and Sevilla experienced a rapid deterioration of relations, culminating in brisk ultimatum: take it or leave it. I left it.

How does the tale end? my nemesis, Victor, had somehow inexplicably managed to prevail, inspire of his inferior credentials, in securing the post of Liverpool manager; Sevilla are brooding in resentment, as they attempt to find a new captain for their steadily sinking ship; and I, I am the manager of Zaragoza, a team teeming with uber-talented young regens, a team with the best defensive record in the league; a team that has three games in hand over the current league leaders, Athletico Madrid, with only 8 points separating us, and them; a team whose next two fixtures are home games against strugglers from the lowest quarter of the league table; and best of all, a team who has yet to play Sevilla, which means I shall have a glorious opportunity to rub salt into the wounds of my former employers.

Please, feel free to share stories of your FM misdeeds and transgressions.