Kublai conquers the world (again...sort of)

[Baby BooBoo]

We now enjoyed our 2 week rest. Of course, the lads knew I had set up a friendly in a couple of days, the day before the vast majority of them were due to disappear for internationals. Internationals.....I still leant back in my chair when the word came up - to think that I was now overseeing a club with lads good enough for their national teams....why, it fair took me back to when I was a lad and....(which is invariably when Alan Ass Man would shush me and remind me he'd the story a million times by now).

So despite the protests of the lads, especially the ones who were about to jet off and play their respective internationals anyway, we took to the field against the local deaf lads. I guffawed with laughter when they finally realised that their oppo were deaf and couldn't actually hear what I was bellowing to them. Of course, I did my best to make sure that the oppo realised that I wasn't laughing at them; merely the situation. Mind you, with my ability at charades, I wasn't at all confident that I had gotten my point across.

At halftime we were a few up and Seidan had sunk a couple of goals. Then, I sprung it on the lads

'Earmuffs ? What are we, practicing to be rabbits in the nativity play now ?' some wit piped up from the back

'You're going to learn to play instinctively, read the game, feel the flow....' I replied.

It would 'gilding the lily' (as the Anglaise say) to say that it worked. It was an appalling mistake. The lads struggled to get anything going and despite nabbing two more goals (from set pieces of course), we looked, at best, ok.

'We look ok,' I told everyone after the match, as reassurance. 'OK is good.'

'A rest would have been better,' Seidan muttered darkly.

'Go score some goals on the weekend, boy, its not every day you get to play for your country.'

Result: nope, no goals from anyone in a Torino shirt that weekend. The best laid plans......

[Baby BooBoo]

We reassembled on the 24th of November, for a final run out before Norwich visited in the Cup the next day. We looked tired.

The next day I slotted de la Mata in for Jardim for a rest, and Seidan up forward. It was a tight game, and NBorwich's direct, physical style really seemed to upset us, for some reason. They scored first, Tulloma intercepting a back pass from de la Mata and running 3/4 of the field to send in a long, deep cross that Fofana nodded beyond Moretti. 6 minutes later though, Semenyuk returned the favour, nicking the ball just outside our box and sending a long ball for Marocchi to run onto. For once, Marocchi chose to cut back to the onrushing Arrasate, just coming behind in on a less severe angle, outside their box, and his drive was deflected off a defender into the far corner.Norwich continued to press us, though, and 3 minutes before half-time, a cutback on their own right wing was smashed unstoppably past Moretti by Robinson. We looked poor for the rest of the match, mustering only a half-dozen shots on goal. I had again just about given up when Falco, replacing Feijao, won a free kick a few meters forward of the halfway line. He lobbed it hopefully into the box, where the first one to it was Norwich's Yahia. There must have been a miscommunication at that point, because he ducked under it, and their keeper was wrongfooted, leaving it to bounce twice into the empty goal. I couldn't believe it again. The last minute specialists, we were. And the strangest goal I will likely ever experience in my career. Best of all, it guaranteed us progress to the next round, with a match to go.

[Baby BooBoo]

Now for the match I knew was going to hurt, the local derby against Juventus, and our home game. Juve were not the force of last year, when they were undefeated after January. They were plugging away at 4th in the table, to out current 6th. Did we think we might have a chance ? Your a## we did, out morale was only just ok, and we'd also lost our defensive rock, Scholten, to injury against Norwich. It was as spiteful a game as you expected local derbies to be. 10 cards were waved at the players that day. Unfortunately for us, and Ferrandiz, he copped a red one in the 71st minute for his tackle from behind after Sampedro had been put clean through, one on one with the keeper. He also buried the penalty to consign us to a 1-0 defeat - not great, but no worse than I had prepared for.

Inter came to us next, and it was as if a different team took to the pitch. Bilic took Scholten's place for this game and turned in a class performance. I put Cipo on to see if the hoodoo had left him - er..no, it hadn't. We had Inter on the back foot for most of the game, but spurned chance after chance. Finally, Feijao was set free by Jardim on the left and as he moved into the box, someone hacked him from behind. Penalty ! He stepped forward nervously - I could just about smell the fear on him. It was no surprise that he smashed it straight at the keeper. By now I knew it wasn't meant to be our day, and that was how it ended, despite me setting everyone to attack - Inter seemed toothless.

[Baby BooBoo]

We drove down 'the boot' and took a ferry across to Palermo for the next game. A lovely trip, perhaps more so on the way back, when I insisted we take a longer, scenic route. The other reason I was looking forward to this game was because Palermo were struggling against the rising tide of relegation this year. We had a chance to finally collect three points. Hipp and Arrasete were left behind in Torino - the conditioning coaches had told me that they were due a spell of rest. Seidan was once again stuck up forward - its not like I had a lot of choice as Ellisalde was hardly breaking down the door demanding to be picked. The reserve coach even chose to mostly do without him, during this barren spell.

Palermo kicked off. 4 passes later it was just forward of the left side of their midfield. Pinheiro, the captain, made a raking, angled pass that allowed Hermansson to collect the ball leaving Ferrandiz and Scholten grasping air, and slid a glorious shot past Moretti's left hand. 1-0, and our team had not collected a stat yet.... Despite that ominous start, we began to slowly dominate the match. Paixao, once again our go-to man with backs to the wall, once again ran forward to a poorly cleared corner and smashed the ball in from just outside their box to equalize just 10 minutes later. I started urging the lads to press, and press hard. It left us a little vulnerable to a conuterattack, which was a little problematic when our fastest defender, Hipp, was home in Turin, but I had to get these 3 points. The breakthrough came on the 76th minute - route one - Moretti sending the ball right down the center to Semenyuk, who got enough of the ball to allow Seidan to steak away down the left. His left foot shot wasn't powerful, but did enough to beat the keeper on his near post. Again we adopted the siege mentality and hung on for a priceless win.

Every time we hung on to a precious goal lead, I thought back to that game at Cagliari at the start of the season, when we let a 2 goal lead slip. Maybe we truly had learned something that day.

[Baby BooBoo]

Alan Ass Man came to see me with his latest bright idea. 'We need to break our strikers out of this slump.'

'Yaar, so far, so obvious. But how ? Even knocking in goals against hapless amateurs didn't do it for them.'

'A psychologist - I learned all about it while I was doing my continental coaching course. Apparently all the big teams use them now.'

'What, you saying we're not a big team, now ?' I asked, suspiciously

'No....just that we have, er....interesting methods.'

'Fine, fine, whatever. If its good enough for the Rosso-whatever-colori, its good enough for us. You organise it then, Mr Continental Coach.'

I was too stressed worrying about the next match to place much importance to this conversation, because FC Twente were visiting. So far, our efforts had left us a point to the good against Norwich and Twente and we needed a draw to guarantee movement to the knock out stages.

I cast my eye over the team list. The numbers were thin, necessarily so thanks to the need to have home grown players for Europe. My buying spree of the last 2 years had not taken that into account. It was something for later on down the track, I had thought, not expecting European football in my second year. So it was the home team I set out, and a host of fill-ins, including a couple of 17 year olds from the youth team - but more of those lads later. Twente were hosting us, so we flew in on a sparkling clear and cold night into Holland. Once again I set the team to defend, and defend stoutly. We matched them for the first 15 minutes, then Jardim allowed Mols to get around onto his right foot just outside the 6 yard box and he thundered the ball past Moretti. Blast, now we had to search for a goal. Strange how a goal changes things - where we had been tentative and watchful before, we applied ourselves. Lots of lovely, fluid short passes. But no goals. Until the 70th minute, when a sharp exchange of 4 passes between Jardim, Seidan and Feijao fed the latter, just a couple of steps beyond the pursuing defenders, and on the left hand corner of the box. He slid it home to my relief. Then the game changed again, with us now reverting to type and hanging on like we knew we could. They decided to shoot from distance, and apart from one that rattled the crossbar, it was a fatal mistake. Paixao and Leroy sat back and forced every shot to come under pressure. At the final siren we leapt onto the pitch, ecstatic. I was far from confident about how we would go in the comp given our thin ranks, but to get through was still something worth celebrating. Especially when it garnered the club another 500 k Euro for topping the group, when Norwich decided to lose to Dinamo.

4 days to get home, get some rest and face Livorno, who were flying higher than predicted, in mid-table. I thought that we would have the measure of them and rested Paixao, Scholten and Arrasete for Ott, Ferrandiz and Khuzmalo (who's injury-proneness was starting to annoy me, but at least I had Bilic for back-up there now). We dominated the match, with 63% of possession, and strung some good chances which Seidan saw fit to squander. I dragged him and Feijao for Elisalde and Hanine at the 60 minute mark. Finally, on a break, Marocchi broke free of 3 defenders, ran deep and crossed long, where a very late arriving Hanine beat the keeper to the goal and just bundled it over. 1-0, and perhaps we should have scored more, but it didn't matter - I could palpably feel our morale rising.

[Baby BooBoo]

'The psychologist is here, sir,' the receptionist beeped. It was the day before the Avellino game, and Alan and I were awaiting his arrival in my office.

'OK, send him in.'

'Er, I'll bring her up, sir.'

Alan and I looked at each other. I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised but it would be a little bit odd, having a middle aged PhD professor-type looking in while we did our usual blustery male team talks and the like.

Except that when the door opened, she was not what we expected. At all.

'Dr Paola Spigarelli,' she said extending her hand to me, as I rose from my desk.

She was a real head-turning stunner. Long straight black hair down to her waist. Piercing green eyes. Faintly pouty mouth. Facial features chiselled from marble, a face straight out of a Michelangelo statue. Tall and with a body to kill for. Oh my.

'....Kublai Khan, great to me... I mean, you.....' I stuttered, almost tripping over the edge of my desk as I walked around to greet her. I couldn't take my eyes off her.

She sat down, a coy smile on her face after she said hello to Alan. He too, stared with eyes agog. She looked like she was used to this type of reaction in men.

'I'm so looking forward to working with you to get the best out of the players,' she said.

'Yeah, I,m really hoping you'll really turn their heads.... around, I mean. The strikers especially, they need some help.' I sat back down and leaned forward, a quizzical look on my face. 'I hope you don't mind me asking, but have you had a lot of experience at this ?'

She smiled. 'I know I'm a little younger than you expected, but sports psychology is a relatively new science, especially for those of us on the clinical side of it. I have to admit this is my first real job after finishing off my PhD and a couple of long placements as an intern. I'm confident I have the skills needed to turn things around here. And there's the connection with the club, too, of course - Torino is in my blood, after all.'

I nodded. 'You realise that we are only proposing a 6 month probationary period - to see if what you do makes any difference to the workings of dinosaurs like us ?'

'Of course, that sounds sensible. When can I meet the players ?'

'What about this afternoon ? We're due to get down to Salerno this evening for the game tomorrow and the players can say hello before heading off. The real work starts after that, of course.'

'Great !'. She bade us farewells and walked off, and we followed every single lithe movement of her pert bottom, squeezed into a tight back professional skirt. I couldn't imagine her effect if she were really trying to be provocative.

'Wow', I said to Alan.

'Yeah. This is going to interesting...'

'Yass...er..what do you mean ?'

'Didn't you notice what her surname was. The fact she said the club was in her blood ?'

'Oh f%$k !' She had the same surname as the chairman of the club. Oh f%$k indeed....

[Baby BooBoo]

Paola must have floored the lads the same way she'd stunned Alan and I because we made a meal of the game against Avellino the next day, even though they were strugglers in 15th position, after a decent start and then falling away lately. I sent out the usual team, save Khuzwalo in for Arrasete, and Hanine preferred to the still-out-of-form Feijao. We decided to make things worse for ourselves in the 18th minute by allowing their striker Macchia to nip after a complete balls-up between Hipp and Scholten - an unpressure Hipp passing so hard at Scholten it rebounded off his foot into the path of Machia, advancing quickly, to slide it into the top right corner from 9 yards away. Great. I lashed the air with my whip at the two dunces at the back and they knew they were due a tongue lashing at the break. All of a sudden it seemed the lads woke up from Paola's spell. We began plyaing the way we likd, a patient possession game, and Avellino had barely a sniff of the ball. In the 26th minute, Scholten and Hipp made up for their comincal error when Hipp nodded a corner aimed for the far post back across the vacant oppo six yard box, where Scholten was poised to nod it in. They had redeemed themselves. Just before the break we took the lead - Hanine waltzing around the edge of the box, evading tacklers and then finding lurking menacingly in a central position - big mistake, Avellino - he slid it home purposefully. We had the lead at halftime and I wante dthelad to push on, without complacency. We just couldn't find another goal to finish them off though, and in the 88th minute paid for it when Macchia found space behind Hipp to fire off a spectacular long range effort. They should have pinched a point, except that at the kick off, we sat back and they attacked, allowing a clearance from Paixao to be collected by Ellisalde, who had come in for the goalless Seidan 10 minutes ago; too pacy to be chased down, he placed his shot beyond the keepers left hand. I didn't dare moan about the strikers after that. 3-2 it ended, and fittingly so, but I whinged at the lads afterwards about making a close game of what we should, and had dominated on the pitch.

[Baby BooBoo]

The next few days saw a steady stream of players go into Paola's office. Alan Ass Man was far from impressed.

'God, I've never seen so many people with 'psychological problems'. You'd think this was metal hospital or something...'

I pointed to the line up of lads sititing outside her door. 'Yaar man, and its mainly the bloody under-19s. We're raising a team of potential nutcases.' I couldn't help grinning. 'Has she even seen the strikers yet, that's what she's here for !'

Alan shrugged. 'Dunno, boss. We sure could do with some help there right now. I mean, Elisalde's goal was the first by a striker for god knows how long. Imagine if we could get them firing !'

'That's the plan, Alan, that's the plan. We just have to pry our psychologist away from these hormone crazed teenagers first.'

[Baby BooBoo]

We had the first round of the Italian Cup up next, against Serie B side Cittadella. For the first time since I had started managing, I had the luxury of assuming that we would do decently even playing our own 'B' team. So Bilic and Ferrandiz partnered in defence, Khuzwalo at rightback, 17 year old Verhayen (already a 'good Serie A player according to Ass Man), given a start and in front of him, 17 year old Ledda at left wing, Bobhinho with a long waited start at right wing and Elisalde in front of Mendonca. We were going to let the fans have a look at the younger lads, at least. We dominated possession, but couldn't put the ball anywhere near the net until Mendonca slid an inch perfect pass to Elisalde, poaching around the six yard box, and almost scuffing it into goal. OK, not exactly a classic finish, but a goal. It ended up comfortably for us, but I would have preferred a few more shots at goal. I assumed Elisalde must have already spoken to Paola, he seemed so energetic all of a sudden.

[Baby BooBoo]

'She wants what ?' I asked Alan Ass Man again.

'To be allowed to use the gym. This is her place of work, after all. And there is a fully equipped gym down there, its not like she'll be crowding out any of the lads.'

I clapped Alan on the shoulder. 'Alan, Alan, Alan, this is why I am the boss, and you are the Ass Man...and yes, this is the last time I'll ever call you that. Think. Gorgeous babe in tight gym clothes, extremely sweaty, pumping up and down on the cross trainer in the corner while we are telling the lads to concentrate on their fitness.....'

'Ah, yes. I see..... But what do I tell her then, we have to have a decent excuse for her not using it.'

'Oh for god's sake man. This is Italy, land of red tape. Tell her its against occupational health and safety regulations or something. I don't know, invent some obscure bylaw that prevents her heading down there. I am delegating this to you !'

'OK, OK, boss,' muttered Alan, heading off.

I sighed. There were managers out there plotting their moves on the pitch against the next opponent, or transfer policy for next season, while I was running around putting out potential spot fires because our babe of a psychologist wanted to use the gym......

[Baby BooBoo]

The results were starting to turn, hot psychologist or not. I preferred to think that it was more my doing.

Parma came to Olimpico. They were only just keeping their heads above the relegation zone this season and we were expected to win comfortably. I gave Mendonca a run at the central attacking midfield position and he did ok; he had hardly set the club on fire since his arrival, but the opportunities had been limited, given how well Semenyuk has been doing for us. Bilic relieved a tired Hipp. We played a wonderful, flowing controlling game, but of course, goals were few and far between. In the end it took another long range effort from Paixao to settle it, in the 81st minute. Another 1-0 result against weaker opposition.

That gave us 5th spot in the competition and 6th, Fiorentina, came up to play us next. I preferred Bos for the still out of form Feijao. We made it hard for ourselves with Paixao putting in an own goal after 16 minutes off a corner. The Seidan turned the match on the restart. Semenyuk fed him a routine ball at the edge of the box, with a defender directly behind him. He spun beautifully, wrongfooting the Parma defender, skipped past the other central defender advancing from the right and smashed an unstoppable screamer past the keeper. It was, to be honest, the first time that he had given a hint that something special lurked within him - why I had paid all that money to sign him up for us. Just before the ebreak, Semenyuk played a delightful chip into the path of the onrushing Marocchi, coming in off the right rather than looking to cross, for a change, and the young man did him right by volleying it past the keeper's near post. We continued to control the game after the break, but it took till the 81st minute for us to seal it - just an innocuous own goal off a mistimed clearing header by one of the Fioro defenders. We had a good grip on 5th spot now.

[Baby BooBoo]

I asked to see Paola before the important away tie against Juventus for the 2nd round of the Italian Cup.

'You seem to have Seidan fired up - that goal he scored against Parma really lit us up, and he's apparently been impressing in training'.

She leaned back in her chair. I tried hard not to stare at her cleavage.

'Thanasis (oh, hello, I thought, we're on first name terms already, eh ?) is starting to work up what he needs to do and how to go about it. He's a good lad. Can I make one request though ?'. She leaned forward conspiratorially. That made her cleavage even more obvious. Argghh...don't look, don't look, don't look......'Just remember that he's only 20. I know that the club spent a lot of money to bring him here but he's not ready for the same pressure that you'd exert on the older players. He's...fragile. Give him time to grow into his talent and he'll be a great player for you for years to come.'

I nodded sagely. Perhaps I was being a little hard on him - but then again, I had signed him to be our spearhead. 'Sounds like good advice.' I leaned back, mostly to put some space between myself and her eye-catching 'assets'. 'Tell me, I hope you don't mind me asking you some more personal questions...'

She smiled. 'Oh, not at all, please, ask away.'

'You talked about the connection to the club in our first meeting here and then there's your surname..'

'The chairman is my father. I know you know the rumours, so I may as well tell you straight up. When I heard about the job, I begged him for the job. That was why you never heard about any interviews. There were none. My father gave me the job.' She leaned back and crossed her legs, giving me a flash of thigh. 'And here I am.'

I nodded and hoped it looked worldly-wise. The chairman had landed this attractive bomb in our midst ! 'Well, I'm glad you're here; the lads seem to have really taken to you, and there seem to already be results ! Why, I....'

'And I,' she said suddenly, leaning forward yet again, 'am very, very glad to be here. And to have the opportunity..' she paused for effect,'..to work with you.'

If I wore a tie I would have been forced to loosen it at that very moment, because she ended those words with a smile that brooked no ambiguities. Oh my.

'Fantastic,' I muttered. 'I'm looking forward very much (I emphasied the last 2 words) to working with you. But,' I said, suddenly deciding that I had to stand up,'I really have to get the lads ready for Juve - don't want those black and white brutes catching us unawares, eh ? Let's schedule another meeting soon.'

'I'm looking forward to it....boss.' She sashayed out of the room.

I had to grip the table to steady myself. Kublai old man, what was all that about ? Well, actually, she and I both knew what that was all about, but did I want to go there ? Really ??

[Baby BooBoo]

We play Juventus in the cup tie and though we are playing in Turin, playing in their brand new, smells-of-money stadium does harbour feelings of some kind of resentment. I tell myself that this will one of my long term aims here at the club - to one day score us a new stadium.

On the pitch though, we will have to show something else against Juve on a more consistent basis. This is a tightly contested affair, and we have the same number of shots at goal as them, but the difference is, they take their chances and we do not. Nonetheless, we manage to stretch it to extra time, which heartens me. Unfortunately we manage to stretch it to extra time, which exhausts us all, and that bodes ill for the next match. To top it all off, Semenyuk is injured, fortunately only for 10 days. We walk off 2-0 losers, and have I mentioned how utterly sick of playing Juve I am getting ?

We go south to Cagliari just 2 days later. Cagliari are fighting relegation this year and we should stomp them, but as feared, it is a lacklustre performance from very tired and emotionally drained men. I am forced to re-oganise the entire backline through exhaustion, bringing in Bilic, Ferrandiz and Khuzwalo, and it shows - Ferrandiz pulls down theur striker at 18 minutes and the resulting penalty leaves us 1-0 down. We start to exert some influence on the game, but are already on the back foot. Up forward, Mendonca really does not fill Semenyuk's shoes yet, so its no surprise that Cagliari snatch a second goal on a fast break. We battle on and Fejoa himself gets one back on a break for us, but we are, overall, worthy losers, and I am very disappointed.

[Baby BooBoo]

I am in a foul mood as the team alights from the bus back in Turin. We need to beat teams like Cagliari if we are to stay in the the upper echelons of the league this year.

I look up and see Paola watching us from a balcony. She is leaning forward and smiling broadly. Well at least someone likes us....

I wave and she waves back.

Just as I am about to set off up the stairs, Seidan pushes through the throng and starts racing up the stairs, 3 steps at a time. There are catcalls from the boys.

Well, well, well......

[Baby BooBoo]

A week to recover and rather than thrash the lads in training, and I decided to rest them a bit - it had been a hard run to take, especially after the extra time against Juventus.

Genoa came up to play us next, and they were comfortably mid-table but dangerous. Now back home and rested, we looked the goods once again. Elisalde replaced the injured Seidan. We probed and pushed, but after 30 minutes Semenyuk tapped in a cushioned Scholten header off a corner to send us 1-0 up. There was the usual lack of bite up front, but we were creating chances, holding possession at about 60% and managing to have Genoa blast away from distance. The second goal, when it finally came, was from Bos. He had relieved Marocchi on the right wing and took the opportunity head-on. He received the ball in side the box, back to goal and shadowed by 2 defenders. Almost as quickly he soun, blasted the ball between them and under the goalies's grasping hands - 2-0, and a goal of the week. Would that my strikers were capable of the same at the moment.

An even bigger test came five days later against Roma, 2nd on the table. We went down to Rome with Elisalde again up front. He may have been 18 but he was going to learn quickly. I allowed Roma most of the possession, but we broke frequently and usefully. Elisalde was 'not having a good day in front of goal'. Luckily Roma couldn't find the net themselves, Moretti once again being our saviour. On 60 mintes, Semenyuk sent in a deep cross off a free kick which found an unmarked Hipp at the far post to tap in past the keeper. Then, as usual, we held on, and once again, were castigated for being 'fortunate'. This was getting to be old - how many times did we have to be fortunate in a season for someone to acknowledge that our defence was the bedrock of our team ?

[Baby BooBoo]

We had 14 days to prepare for our next match, the away leg of the first knockout round of the EURO Cup. Many of the lads disappeared for a small break, and I saw Seidan escorting Paola to his car at one stage. Hmmm, intriguing....

Seidan was back on the pitch as well, and relieving Elisalde up front. Goodness knows we needed him. I sent out my strongest team and hoped for a good performance, our form being good at this stage. It was a tight, see-sawing affair, with Celtic surprisingly strong despite being our inferiors on paper. Once again, I ceded possession to them, but we tried to break meaningfully. On 44 minutes, against the run of play, Scholten once again nodded down into the six yard box and Leroy this time made no mistake in the middle of a crowd of players. Unfortunately Celtic weren't about to give up; they went back up the other end and got a free kick, from which they scored the equaliser. They came out with more purpose in the 2nd half and we were pegged back, and eventually conceded a goal off a corner. Both goals were from their attacking midfielder Ricki Walker, who was having a field day. I thought in the time left we woudl have at least one chance to square it and we did - in the second minute of injury time, a partially cleared header by a freekick from Hanine fell just inside the box to Seidan, who volleyed into the top left hand corner truly. With 2 goals away, I was confident we would do the business in the home tie.

That left just the Sassuolo game between the return leg. The Sass were 19th in the league and playing us at home so I expected little resistance. Bizarrely, they had the lion's share of possession, and shots at goal - fortunately their marksmen were about as good as ours, and left a trail of wasted chances. We finally got the first goal in the 68th minute, a Semenyuk corner crashing into the crossbar to fall at Seidan's feet, empty goal in front of him. 1-0. The second came in the 74th, this time Seidan laying off a through ball for Semenyuk to run onto on the break, before clinically slotting it home in the far left hand corner. We looked good on paper, but I did wonder why we had let the away team have all that possession. Did it augur ill for the Celtic match - surely not... ?

[Baby BooBoo]

Now for Celtic, and a packed home crowd. We were on a high, and I was confident - but not so cocksure that I sent out the 'B' team. Come to think if it, I couldn't send out the 'B' team as they were all unregistered. That was the problem with us in Europe - I just didn't have enough home grown players to have depth in the team. So when Arrasete got himself suspended, I had to resort to a 'competent Ferrandiz at rightback to cover. I also had to plunk Elisalde in as Seidan was completely shattered after the last game and barely fit for the bench, let alone to start. Nonetheless, we were the favourites.

The stadium was seething with expectation. I was concerned at hoe knackered everyone looked. It would have been nice to have a lead from Celtic Park, but I suppose 2 goals would do. I shook Celtic's manager's hand heartily. I like the Scots, true battlers. And haggis reminds me a lot of Mongolian delicacies.

We started brightly and made inroads at the Celtic goal, but nothing too threatening. Elisalde missed a one-on-one with the keeper but something in me made me keep faith with him. At the break, still 0-0, I encouraged the lads. One goal from us would just about seal it. Unfortunately for us, they got that first goal, a scorching volley from just outside the center of the box by center midfielder Biagi (the traitor...). The I 'unleashed the dogs', and we attacked. From that point on, there was only ever going to be one other scorer, but it proved elusive. Elisalde missed two more one-on-ones, and when I sent in Seidan later, he had no opportunities to square it up for us. I still believed there was going to be something in it for us, right up till the last whistle. Then I just stared at the sky and wished I could fly away. A 0-1 loss at home at such a critical time.

[Baby BooBoo]

I expected out form to collapse, and unfortunate timing in that - 3 important games to go, against 3 nearby (in the table) opponents. Somehow, we managed to get plenty out of those games - even I was underestimating my lads !

Torino vs AC Milan (home) - 2-1 - Marocchi gives us an early lead before AC equalise through their 31 mil euro rated winger Garcia (what I wouldn't give for a player of that calibre !) but Semenyuk nabs what proves to be the winner just before halftime, and we just sit back and absorb pressure for the rest of the game. Good result.

Torino vs Napoli (away) - 2-0 - Napoli are third on the table and destroyed us. Nothing to say at all apart from that.

Torino vs Udinese (home) - 2-1 - a tight game, but we led 2-0 after goals from Hipp and de la Mata (yep, the forwards outscored by the defenders for not the first time this season), Udinese, at the time 7th in the table, get a consolation but as usual from the Khanster, gives him reason to gnaw nervously at his nails for 25 minutes.....

So, 6 points from a possible 9 when I woudl have settled for anything more than 3. I was pleased. It left us an unbelievable 3rd on the table.

[Baby BooBoo]

'Vegetarian ?!' I repeated, unable to believe what I was hearing uttered from Alan Ass Man's mouth. I put down the large kebab I was devouring in shock. What a way to interrupt a man's lunch.

'Yes, boss, vegetarian. I've been reading into it lots lately...'

'I did notice you getting well and truly stuck into the salad bar lately...'

'...and there are so many benefits for your health in general. For athletes, especially. Think of how bloated you feel after a meal containing meat, how does that help you when you have to train or play later that day ?'

I looked at the kebab I had been in the process of polishing off. I would have been offended if I were that kebab.

'Is this one of those fancy things you picked up while doing your continental license ?'

'No, no, this is something that I learned about...' his voice droned on for some interminable period as he rattled off statistics, ethics blah blah blah. I picked shreds of dead animal out of my teeth.

'No way.' I replied eventually.

'Why ? Haven't you been listening, boss...'

'No f^%ing way,' I repeated. 'I don't care if it saves the flipping world. I just want to win the league. You ever hear of a league winner anywhere that had been vegetarian ? Where would the players get their energy from ? No one does crazy-ass weird stuff like that !'

He looked at me, and then my whip, and the bottle of kumiss on the table. I ignored him and ploughed on.

'Goddsakes, you spend 90 minutes chasing leather and all you want to do at the end of the match is eat the damn animal that it came from, that's the natural way of things !'

'Balls are made of plastic nowadays !'

I waved him off flippantly. 'Look, we are trying to conquer this league like the Mongolians conquered Europe. They rode and ate their meat out of the saddle, raw. You think they munched on mung bean sprouts before they went into battle ? No, they went into battle with dried blood already on their lips. The Huns, the Romans, the Macedonians - I mean, just name one conqueror who was a vegetarian ?'

'Hitler was a vegetarian !' Alan announced, triumphantly.

'Oh good. You be the one fronting the press conference telling everyone we adopted vegetarianism at the club to emulate Adolph. That'll go down reaaaalllllll well !'

That shut him up. He started heading out of the room.

'And ask the kebab man to send up a couple more of these when you go downstairs, talking about not eating meat has made me ravenous !'

[Baby BooBoo]

A nice home game to lead us into another 2 week break - which would be nice except that the reason for the break was our non-participation in the later stages of the Euro Cup.

We played Bari away and really got stuck into them, which was expected as Bari were battling to get their heads above the relegation zone. Semenyuk started proceedings with a lovely header courtesy a nice cross from Hanine, and then Elisalde nabbed two goals- one of the few times all season that any of the strikers got more than one goal in a game. His first came via a nod-down from Hipp at a corner, and the next a rebound from a Semenyuk free kick that cannoned back off the crossbar - both classic poachers goals, I suppose you have to say. Bari came back and pulled one back off a corner, but Hanine sealed it after a break from the back. That left a consolation at the very end to make it 4-2 to us.

The game after the break Catania came to Olimpo and I put my faith in Elisalde by putting him up front once again. This time he failed to find the net, and we found relief via Scholten scoring off two corners to keep our nose in front. 2-1 to us, and consolidation at 3rd, but a chasing pack behind us in the league, with the front two (Roma and Fiorentina) seemingly uncatchable now.

A home game against Chievo also did not cause sweat to break. Chievo were a broken team and on the cusp of relegation, so far behind were they from salvation. We had an unbelievable 30 shots at goal, so a 4-0 scoreline was well justified. 2 minutes into the game, Seidan got us going, a turn and shot rocketing into the top left hand corner. Marocchi then sealed the half by collecting the ball on the right flank, dummying onto his right foot and arrowing the shot past the keeper's near post. It too us till the 90th minute to get the 3rd, a sweeping pass by Bos taking in the width of the field to find Marocchi unmarked in the righ flank again, and this one needing just a tap in. From the kick off, we managed a free kick which Semenyuk lobbed hopefully forward, to be met weakly by the keeper, and the hopeless attempt at a fist away was put away by Bos himself.

[Baby BooBoo]

At this point, I was dreaming of Champions Cup football, improbable as it was. We were still ensconced in 3rd, and there was now a gap of 5 points between us and fourth (yep, you guessed it, bloody Juve). The next 4 games were tough ones, to be followed by 4 games against teams in the lower 3rd of the table. So, we just had to get something out of these 4 games to set us up.

We weren't up to it;

Torino vs Sampdoria (home) - 0-1. Could have gone either way but Sampdoria put one of the few chances away and we didn't.

Torino vs Lazio (away) 1-2. We really struggled without a productive forward. 2-0 down at halftime, we got one back through Semenyuk, another nice piece of Torino passing play which we were getting a reputation for, but couldn't get the equaliser.

Torino vs Juventus (home) 0-0. We gave it our all, but this even game couldn't pick out a winner. Another black mark against our forward line.

Torino vs Inter Milan (away) 0-1. On the back foot from the start, we never got into this game.

So a solitary point from 12 possible, and dropping to 4th and out of Champions Cup places. But almost certain to get the Euro Cuop again - perhaps I should accept my lot in life ?

[Baby BooBoo]

'Call a team meeting.' That was Alan' suggestion.

I was slumped in my chair, facing out the window into the training fields below. 'Don't wanna....'

'Call a meeting, you're the boss man, they need some morale boosting !'

I sighed. 'Last time I tried this in Tyrnavos the lad's morale got worse. I'm not risking it.'

Alan looked flabbergasted. 'Christ, you're not telling them to scale Everest. Its a home game against Palermo, 15th in the league and in worse form than us. Tell them we need to squeak a win !'

'Ok,ok, ok...' I muttered. Why did I always respond to him when he adopted that motherly, nagging tone of voice ? Did he know something about me that I didn't ?....

'Lad, lads, lads, let's have some order,' I shouted to the 20-odd lads in the meeting room. But I may as well not have bothered. Apart from some furtive muttering, no one was in a boisterous mood enough to be chatting and laughing.

'You know there are only 4 games to go. 4 games against teams well below us on the table. Make it 4 wins from 4 games, and who knows how we'll go in lining up that 3rd spot ? Don't you guys want Champions Cup action ?'

The was more muttering, but some life in the voices now. Scholten stood up and I indicated to the captain that he should speak. He started on an eloquent 5 minute speech summarizing our battle against the odds so far, and ending with a plea to finish the season well. There was more animation. I asked Semenyuk to speak next. His haltering English wasn't great, but everyone could hear the heartbreak in his voice when he described how devastated he had been when Ukraine had not chosen him for the World Cup, and then gone on and landed in the semis. He pleaded with everyone not to miss the chance at 'the big time' because you never knew when it would happen next. By now, we were all eating out of his hands. He sat down and wiped a single tear from an eye. Surprisingly, it was Moretti who wanted to speak last. Our junior dynamo in goal told us that he deserved a tip from everyone for keeping us in the league (eliciting a giggle from all, because it was partly true) and that if we let things slip, we would need our head examined. By a psychologist. At that point everyine looked a rapidly blushing Seidan, and then the room cracked up in laughter. Yep, we had our mojo back.

[Baby BooBoo]

Palermo came to play at Olimpico 4 days later. Of course I sent in my 'A' team, but they really loooked worthy of the name today. We never let the pink shirted ones have a sniff, and looked like Serie A pacesetters for the first time in 5 matches. Feijao got us going with a 30 yard effort which curled the correct side of the far, right hand post, on 26 minutes. It took us another 25 minutes to get the next - a poorly kicked goalkick rebounding back to Seidan, who, just outside the box, volleyed truly into the top right hand corner of the keeper's grasping hands. The last goal, 8 minutes from time, came from a dubious penalty, but Semenyuk didn't care. 3-0 to us and we were off again now, I felt.

The second part of the comeback required a performance against Livorno, 13th on the ladder and waiting for us at their home. I just wanted the lads to pinch the game, but they decided to smash the poor Livornians. Goals to Seidan, Phillips, Ott and then later, Elisalde after an own goal, left us with an unbelievable 5-0 scoreline.

The ladder ? We'd nipped back into 3rd place above the black and white brigade, a point behind us. They had a tough finish to the season, with Udinese and Napoli to come. Could we finally, for once, just pip these b^%&ds ?

[Baby BooBoo]

We had Avellino at home 4 days later. 3 points here would get us so close to sealing an unbelievable 3rd place. My men were shattered, though. So I made the brave decision to rest some of the key men and let the fresh youngsters play, supposing that even if we failed here, we had 17th placed Parma last and surely that would yield points. So Bilic, Khuzwalo and Mendonca came in. We started off brightly enough, with plenty of possession, but no thrills until the 26th minute, when Marocchi received the ball deep in the right flank, on a very extreme angle. He made himself some space and fired at the near post from the impossibly tight angle. The keeper fumbled it and it bobbled free, to almost nonchalantly cross the goal line. That was how the match ended, 1-0. The Avellino manager shook my hand so enthusiastically that I at first thought that he must have appreciated me forgetting to bring my whip to the stadium that day. It was only later when I got back in the dressing room that Alan Ass Man crunched by back in one of typical Northern English pal-ly slaps (sending kumiss cascading down onto my newly ex-quarantine leather and yak hair boots) that I got it. Juve had lost. We couldn't be caught. 3rd place !

[Baby BooBoo]

Well, who would have thought we would finish on such a high that the last game of the season became irrelevant ? We got to go away to the middle of the country, to Parma, with 3rd place already stitched up, so I named a radically younger side. 16 year olds in Perez (left back) and Betta (defensive midfielder) were named, as well as a precious start for such up and comers as Bobhinho, Mendonca and Khuzwalo. In the end, we made a 'ham-fisted' attempt at it (yaar, the Khan's matchless ability at puns comes to the fore once more...) but the cheesy ones won 2-0. I didn't care - I was going to get Champions Cup money next year !

[Baby BooBoo]

Last meeting before the break up, and I congratulated everyone on the success this year. We were going to aim higher though, I told everyone.

'What, higher than the Champions Cup ?' some wit replied.

'Pah, I mean, I don't just mean to be in the competition to make up the numbers, we will actually do well !....' I snarled back, confidently.'Er.... just don't tell the chairman, eh ?'

'I'm going to need a hell of a lot more sessions with the psychologist if we're going to aim so high', muttered someone.

Boys will be boys, eh ?

[Baby BooBoo]

A whirlwind holiday followed, punctuated by the sounds of my mobile phone (who would have thought you can get the throat singers of Mongolia doing a stirring version of the Internationale as your ring tone ? A genius, that's who...). Every agent in the universe got wind of the fact that I had 40 mil Euro to spend, even with the modest goal of 'a respectable finish', so players names were being bandied around like they were going out of fashion.

It seemed to take twice as long to decide on players, even though I had more money than ever before. However, there was a reason for this, in that it was hard to find 'bargains' in the market now - I had some decent players and most signees weren't improvements on a scale that I wanted. That's what I rationalised to Alan Ass Man anyway. He told me I was just a tight git with a Mongolian bargaining complex. I had to put my hand up there and admit that yes, the bluster of being a rampaging, take-no-prisoners Mongol warlord didn't get me very far when it came to negotiating transfer fees and contracts. But there was no way I was going to get a Director of Football to do the dirty work for me either. I swallowed my pride (as well as a large amount of kumiss); shaved, got a haircut, had a shower, be outfitted in a fancy Italian suit and got back to being a suave Frenchy again. At least it gave the tabloids in Turin something to write about over the summer.

In the end I couldn't even spend all the money, leaving some in the kitty for some youngsters later on, but I was fairly pleased with the way I had strengthened the team.

These were going to be the ones that featured this season;

Goalkeepers

I didn't plan on signing a goalie, but I had been keeping half a eye of a Ukraininan chap, Aslan Korolev, who was judged to have the potential to be a 'world class goalkeeper'. So when the chance to sign him up, aged 21 for only 6 mil came up, I jumped at it. The only issue would be juggling him and Moretti - the latter now 23, and perhaps marginally shading him in terms of ability, but not potential. Oh well, that was goalies stitched up for many a year.

Central defenders

Scholten, Hipp and Ferrandiz were going to be the mainstays this season. I had a small concern with Hipp in that his jumping, which he had been focussed on for nigh on 2 seasons, had barely blipped. The lad still jumped like a highly mobile sack of potatoes. but across the pitch he was peerless, so perhaps that outweighed that weakness. He was also only 22, so there was still hope. Bilic was the other back-up here, and was developing nicely at the age of 22. My concern here was the absence of any up and comers to the central defender positions, with the homegrown Sauro Buono at 19 really not coming along as well as I would have liked. Still, with the oldest of my defenders here only 24, I wasn't pressured to find replacements quickly.

Fullbacks

Arrasete was coming along tremendously and was still only 21 but considered a 'star Serie A fullback', and I was worried about what might happen later, if the big clubs came calling. I would have to seduce him - buy him a yurt and get him addicted to buffalo cheese (no, not that mozzarella nonsense the Italians faff around with - the real deal, fermented 'in the saddle bag' as the nomads would have done for years, giving an earthy flavour). Khuzwalo was 19 and had a bit to go to catch up to Arrasete, but they had rightback settled for a long time.

On the left, Jardim was the stand-out performer, but at the age of 23, had reached his full potential. He was more of an attacking option that de la Mata, who would provide back-up. I had two 17 year olds in the 'nursery' (as I liked to call the youth team) so it was simply a question of gradually introducing them to first team action so they eventually replaced the 27 year old de la Mata.

Midfielders

One of the 3 big signings of the season was 25 year old Serbian international Lazar Skopljak. The Skop had been an end of contract signing from Trabzonspor; perhaps he was hoping for a break from Turkey, where he'd spent 6 years. He was a star and would pair Paixao as my first choice ball winner, with Paixao being the more creative of the two. Paixao himself was still only 21 but seemed to have topped out, with little improvements evident for 6 months. I hoped that having some more experienced hands around would inspire him. The back-ups at defensive mid were the over-reliable Oliver Leroy (who was 29 and didn't look that good on paper, but frustrated my attempts to move him on by playing so well, week-in, week-out) and 19 Yaro Verhayen, who I had nabbed as a 17 year old in my first pre-season with Torino and hence, on track to be homegrown as a player. Unfortunately his improvements had stalled somewhat, so I wasn't completely confident he would eventually cut it at this level.

I had also signed a 17 year old Frenchman called Stephane Jean, who was on target to be a terrific defensive midfielder, possibly eclipsing Paixao, but Nancy had insisted on a season-long loanback, so I had acquiesced. I suppose I wasn't going to need him this season.

An opportunistic signing for a central midfielder also presented itself - 19 year old Algerian international Zinedine Yahi, who was unearthed in Switzerland. He was looking on track to be a fine deep lying playmaker, and I wanted options in the middle of the park who could score the odd goal, given our struggles in that department.

Attacking midfield duties were predominantly going to lie with Olex Semenyuk, who had won best signing of last season's Serie A. To think he was an end of contract signing ! Micael Mendonca would provide the back up, but the lack of improvement by him was starting to worry me. Would he be a 6.5 mil dud ? Ass Man counselled patience, since he would only be turning 22 in the coming season. I drew a deep breath and put the transfer forms back in the top drawer.

Wingers

One of my big transfer targets came through at right wing - 23 year old Dutchman Raymond Meeuws, whom I spent 10.25 mil bring to Torino. I probably paid above the odds, but he looked great already, and with a full season under his wings coming up, I was confident he would easily eclipse Marocchi, who stayed on as his competition for the right wing spot.

Left wing remained a little problematic. Feijao's second season here should yield more consolidation in the role, but Hanine was not great back-up should Feijao fall out of form or get injured. I had brought in 17 year old Guillermo Lavezzi, a native of Newell's Old Boys, but he was one for the future and would only see action as a substiute this seaons, unless something went appallingly wrong.

Strikers

Seidan would once again lead the way, and he was improving rapidly, and only 21. However, Elissalde was powering behind him, good enough to share some starts. I resisted the temptation to bring in a big name striker, these two needing to play a lot in the coming season.

[Baby BooBoo]

We started the season with a varying series of friendlies - some tough ones away to give us a bit of a test, and it seemed to get the chaps in the mood. Our form was middling, but we managed to do 3 crucial things - injure Seidan, Paixao and The Skop for 2 months each. Great, I thought, tearing my hair out. Ellisalde obviously would play up front, but I had to make do with a makeshift defensive midfield duo of Ferrandiz (only suited as an anchor man, really) and Leroy. Leroy beamed when I told him. He had thought he would fade into the background with all these midfield signings, but here he was again. I passed him the cup of kumiss in celebration.

The season proper started with Bologna away. 'The fat ones' should not have been a test but we rather made a meal of it - despite a rapid 4th minute goal from Semenyuk, a mistimed header from Feijao allowed the ball to lob into our goal to equalise not 6 minutes later. Bologna then did what we do best, sit back and absorb pressure. In the end we were unlucky not to get a win, but their supporters were ecstatic.

A week later we had our first hoe game, and Udinese visited. They had been top 6 contenders all lats season and this threatened to be a test. I brought out all the good luck charms and for good measure, went around the ground the night before dribbling holy kumiss on the turf (an invention of mine - the local pries thought it a very bizarre thing to do, blessing the stuff; in the end I wore him down and he was only too happy to do the deed, if only to get me, and the 'interesting semlling stuff' out of his office). The next day the Udinese staff wondered aloud whether some mass vomiting ritual had been conducted there. I humoured them and said nothing. We completely smothered them, with masses of possession. Elissalde got us off to a start with a poacher's effort from a Meeuws cross, and after exhortations at halftime, Meeuws himself scored by arriving late in the box from a Feijao long pass. Udinese got back into it with a goal at 55 minutes, and then at the restart, gave it away by tripping Ellisalde in the box - Feijao tucking away the penalty. After the match I publicly thanked the Torino Vomiter's Association for their help in the coming year with pitch preparations.

An even bigger test came after another interminable 2 week break for internationals. At least people were actually playing now, which was not the case when I was first hired. We were going to Fiorentina, where we would play last season's runaway leaders. I think it would be fair to say that the majority of the tv highlights were theirs. However, I was finding one benefit to playing an anchor man in Ferrandiz at the back - we looked impenetrable for most of the game. It took them till the 77th minute to finally put the ball past Korolev, from a lovely cross which striker Rodriguez slotted home. That shodl have been tat except I sent the lads forward to 'attack, attack, attack' and was rewarded by the sight of Semenyuk curling in a miskicked and speculative effort from just outside the box, which spun in off the inside of the far left hand post. OK, we were lucky, but we had executed the game plan I had decided on perfectly.

[Baby BooBoo]

3 days later, our first taste of the rewards of success, from last season's finish. Grouped with Dortmund, Paris St Germain and Zenit in the Champions Cup, a veritable 'group of death', but proud as hell of being here. The stadium was absolutely packed out as the Germans came a'visiting. Without my best striker and 2 of my first choice midfielders, we nonetheless had to make some kind of impression. The collective worth of the German's front line 3 were the same as my entire first 11. Scary stuff. Good thing Mongolian accounting is notoriously unreliable. We had prepared to be defensive and that was exactly what we were. It was a tight game with less than a half-dozen chances for either side. The battle was being wrought in midfield, where the anchoring Ferrandiz and ball winning Leroy excelled again. On 49 minutes Ellisalde tackled well into our half, with the Germans fully committed after a corner. He flung the ball wife to Feijao on the left, who advanced 10 meters before deciding to spear the ball into the center. A deft on-touch from Semenyuk found Ellisalde wide open and screaming to the right of the Dortmund goal. He slid it home triumphantly. After that, we simply sat back and let them do their worse. Unfortunately for them, they simply couldn't fashion an equaliser and we had our first 3 pointer in the Champions Cup !

[Baby BooBoo]

'A feeder club from where ?...' asked Alan again.

'Mongolia, of course !'

'Why the hell would we want a feeder club in Mongolia ? Do they even play football in Mongolia ? I mean, let's ask Loreto - you sent him there. Let's have him give a full and frank assessment of Mongolia's footballing assets....' Alan almost had a smirk. I hated it when he had that look on his face. It usually meant that he was right about something.

I sighed. 'Look, its not about the football. There are any number of Serie B or C teams we could have that would give us football. I want our 16 year olds imbued with guts and fight, though. Be pioneers. Trail blazers...'

'By sending them off to the arse end of the world ?' Alan interjected, cutting me off. 'That's going to make them better footballers ? Christ, they'll all end up being so depressed we'll spend millions on anti-depressants; they'll all be wanting to see the bloody psychologist then !'

'Not like they don't already spend lots of time with her...' I muttered.

Alan stood up, a huge smirk on his face. 'Nah, boss, you're right. It'll be fantastic. The marketing we could make of it. We'll set up the club as the sole importers of goat testicle whips for western Europe.The board will love it'. I was starting to worry about his ironic tone of voice now. 'It'll be fantastic ! You just need to run it past...' he paused meaningfully and played with said whip on my desk,'....THE CHAIRMAN ! Yeah, he's going to love it...'. He walked out chuckling.

So I went up there the next day. Brought along my whip for dramatic effect. Pepe the Ultra had even chipped in with a Powerpoint presentation on the benefits of a 'boot camp' style set up in the wilds of Mongolia. He had even braided his beard for the day. The chairman listened politely and said he would think about it.

The next day he announced a link with Serie B side Pescara and praised my efforts in helping bring it about.

Bastardo !

[Baby BooBoo]

Now a three match run of Serie A games which would test out mettle.

First Lazio came to Olimpico. This was a team that gave us such a hard time 2 years ago and we were now truly considered equals. A very even match, especially given the three key players whom I was missing. Ellisalde's rotten run of luck in front of goal continued. The chances were few for both sides, who played it exceedingly tight at the back. It was tug on Ellisalde in the penalty area, quite unneccesarily, which allowed Semenyuk to score in the 78th minute from the penalty spot and settle the match. 1-0 to us.

Next we went to Sampdoria. They had been solid mid-table finishers for years, so this was a good test of our improved state. We sat back and countered to good effect, but again, couldn't out much away. It ended up 1-0, the goal an embarassing free kick from Feijao just inside the halfway line, sent towards Scholten at the edge of the 6 yard box and treated to an 'air kick', whereupon the wrongfooted keeper could only watch the ball thunder along its original trajectory, into the corner of the net. I suppose we were luckiy to be getting all 3 points from these two games, but there was no luck at the other end, just good, solid defending.

3 days later we bussed it over to Milan, where AC awaited us. The fall of AC had been a fascinating thing to watch. From Serie A pacesetters not long ago, they had not qualified for Europe for 2 years, and looked far from likely to be doing so this season either. We actually went into the match favourites, which was an astonishing thing in itself. We were in control throughout the match, though AC threatened in parts. We finally broke the deadlock in the 45th minute, Scholten heading down a corner for Ferrandiz to fire in from just inside the box - a replay of many of Paixao's goals of last year. Our passing continued to impress, and we were very patient in keeping possession - everyone's collective passing and technique had improved dramatically in the time that I had been at the club, and it was paying off. We could and should have had a couple more, and we were finally rewarded for our efforts in the 92nd minute when a searing Meeuws cross was accidentally bundled in by an AC defender at his own near post. It ended 2-0 and we were consolidating 2nd on the ladder.

[tenthreeleader]

You're doing a great job of sticking with this. Nice writing about a long-term save. Good stuff!

[Baby BooBoo]

Thanks so much for the comments. I was a little worried no one apart from me was reading this silly stuff. Nobel prize on the way, anyone ? Ha, ha. I am a lapsed writer and FM addict so it seemed a good way to bring the two together for a bit, and its giving new impetus to my save. Its also providing a barrier against the temptations of the 'reload-after-an-unfair-result' feeling. So I will plod on.

[Baby BooBoo]

PSG away came next and, surprise, surprise, backs-to-the-wall stuff was presented to the opposition. Their eventual man of the match was one Chinese centerback by the name of Kang Miao, worth a lazy 27 mil Euro, and a refugee from the imploding mass that was Juventus. I looked at their team sheet before the match and could only whistle in admiration. 'Alan, how many of these players could we afford ?' I asked. He didn't even bother looking. 'Four toes from Kang and their striker's nose hairs.' Ah yes, I love the smell of financial intimdation in the evening..... Bloody Kang got their first, a simple header off a corner after 45 mins of frantic defending from us. I commiserated with the team at the break and sent in the youngsters, thinking we would try and pinch a point somewhere else. Then, on 70 minutes, Feijao decided to spear a ball on an angle from the right, across their box. Mendonca leapt onto it and flung his left boot on it, partly scuffing it and wrong footing the kepper in the effort. The ball trickled comically into the net as 6 PSG players looked on. Oh dear. We went defensive after that, as you may have suspected, and lasted out for a precious point. but more than that - self-belief. Our morale was growing.

Home to Italy and Catania at Olimpico. I rested a few, though the returning Paixao and Skop got game time. We got in front after 29 minutes and never looked back. Feijao dribbled past 4 defenders, and slid the ball across the keeper's left hand only to hit the post, where a waiting Meeuws simply tapped in. Thereafter it was only a question of whether we could get another, and we failed the test, with only 3 more shots on target from 16 shots all game. At full time I handed everyone goggles, implying they were blind. Seidan asked me if the pre-season trip to Mongolia next year was off then. Cheeky bugger.

We were now knackered, but closing in rapidly on Fiorentina, perched on top of the table. We played out a 0-0 draw against Avellino, and I admit I underestimated out opposition, sending out the younger lads, but I hardly had any choice; the first teamers needed a bit of a break.

[Baby BooBoo]

Pepe the Ultra visited me at the club. I was always wary of him, because we got on fine when on the same wavelength, but he was one of those obnoxious characters that 'didn't suffer fools gladly' as the Anglaise would say, and when something did not meet his approval, he told you so. But ultimately I liked him, so I always found time in the schedule to humour him, at least.

'Kubes,' he started,'have you seen the latest Correire dello Sport ?'

'No...'

'There's an article there about 'the rapid rise of Torino' and some p%^*k is linking it to match-fixing !'

I laughed. 'Come on, this nonsense was eliminated after the Juve crisis a few years ago. How could they possibly...'

'Look,' he said, stabbing a finger at the grimy image in the front page of the rag, 'this is what they're getting in a huff about.'

I saw a grainy image of an Indian-looking man in the stands, apparently at Olimpico. 'Who is that ?'

'They are saying his name is Manpreet Singh, and he's some Singaporean mastermind of a betting ring. They say his group has backed us heavily to win the league, and coupled with the fact that he's in Turin, they have decided that we must be cooperating with them !'

'What, by winning games ? What do they expect us to do ? Lose ??!! Pepe, what did you sprinkle on your polenta last night ?....'

'No, they're saying that Singh has bribed the opposition to lose - hence out fantastic run !'

I was aghast. 'What planet are these people from ? Have they even watched any of our games. We are clearing bloody balls off the line to prevent goals, hardly sounds like the sort of behaviour one would expect of a team knowing they would win ?'

Pepe shrugged. 'I know and you know, but its the perception...'

Alan walked in just at that moment. 'Hallo Pepe, boss. Hey, what's that there ?' He grabbed the paper. 'That's funny...'

'What ?'

'That's Hansie Cronje. He got done for match fixing for South Africa in cricket in the 90s. What's he doing at Olimpico ?'

I put my head in my hands. 'Pass me the kumiss...' was all I could utter.

[Baby BooBoo]

We had 4 games in 2 weeks, and the results started to worry me. Not the winning; what coach worries about that ? No, it was the way we did it, and the scores.....

23/10/19 Torino 3 - Zenit 0 (home). Zenit hardly bothered to do much more than get off the plane. Marocchi, Semenyuk and Ellisalde got goals after we camped in their half.

27/10/19 Torino 3 - Empoli 0 (home). Empoli put up more resistance but as soon as Scholten got one off a corner early, we were always going to win. Seidan sealed it with two very special goals in the second half.

30/10/19 Torino 3 - Parma 0 (away). Parma were then 17th in the league and I expected a win from the lads, and told them so. The match was actually surprisingly close, Parma having some good players, admittedly down on form and confidence. We scored 3 goals in the first 30 mins from Seidan, Feijao (a penalty) and Mendonca to have it effectively wrapped up at that point. Korolev kept battering their attempts at goal despite their efforts.

2/11/18 Torino 3 - Napoli 0. Napoli came up to us and should have provided stiff resistance, and were in reasonable form, at that point being 6th on the table. On the day, though, they folded almost as meekly as Zenit, allowing us 20 shots on goal to their 2. Semenyuk got an early penalty and after much pressing, Seidan and Jardim sealed it for us 4 minutes apart halfway through the second half.

At this point I was very elated. We had rarely ever won by more than 2 goals since I had been the manager. The problem was that Alan pointed out exactly the same observation, and also quoted the 300-1 odds which had been offered by online bookies prior to the Zenit match for 4 consecutive 3-0 scores in our favour. Apparrently someone had made a massive win from that one. He stressed the words massive.

I couldn't help myself, and scanned the stands for that Cronje character.

[tenthreeleader]

What I like about what you're doing is your balance. You spend some time in matches, some time in arcs and other posts just developing your character. It's an easy, fun read. Your post #80 is a good example. The only thing I might suggest is to put in paragraph breaks like you do when you do match summaries when you are writing prose entries. Otherwise its a 'wall of copy' and sometimes that's a bit daunting. But the content is the thing and you do a nice job with it. Thanks for posting here.

[Baby BooBoo]

The next match was the rematch against Zenit in St Petersburg. I expected it to be cold, but my word ! Snow drifted down to blanket the ground. I wore one of those embarrassing hats with flaps that covered the ears, and still felt cold. Lucky for my beard - which I gleefully pointed out to the Ass Man.

I had expected this game to be an easy victory, but Zenit had other ideas, even though they were miles from any chance of qualifying from the group. I suppose I should have expected anything but a capitulation in front of their own fans. It was, as they say, a game 'for the purists'. I chopped and changed the tactics to try and get an edge on them, but chances were few and far between on both sides. The best player on our side was Korolev, and he looked absolutely solid. Zahi had been given a chance in midfield playing as a box to box man and Mendonca replaced Semenyuk - neither had the best games of their lives, and coupled with a poor performance by Seidan, we looked fairly innocuous up front. 0-0, and with me more than glad to hop on the plane back south.

'We need to get acclimatised to the snow, Alan,' I told the Ass Man on the bus back to the hotel.

'How, you think we can just ship up a snow machine into Olimpico during the Christmas break ?'

'Oooo good idea...' I started.

Alan held up a hand. 'Your stupid idea, you work it out. There is no way you are delegating me to work this crazy ass thing out !'

'Awww,' I moaned. 'C'mon Alan, where's the adventurous Mongol in you ?'

'There's plenty of Mongol sitting 30 cm to my left for the whole flippin' team !'

I organised a game against a village team in the Alps instead. It was more popular with the lads who wanted to go skiiing either side of the game anyway. I did like it when my ideas made everyone happy.

[Baby BooBoo]

We only had 4 days rest before having to go down to Livorno. Fortunately, they were dabbling with relegation form this year and I was able to rest some of the the jet lagged players, and we started Khuzwalo, Ferrandiz, Verhayen, Hanine (for one of his few appearances so far this year) and Ellisalde. Livorno were woeful, but our ability to close of the game was barely better - only one shot on target from 15 attempts. Fortunately, they allowed us to scramble an own goal in the 31st minute, and we were never threatened after that.

There was now a 2 week gap before our next litmus test, against Roma at home and then Dortmund away in the Champions Cup. Roma had been league winners only 2 years ago, so getting a score against them would be a real test. Dortmund were the 3rd team in our group, the ones that we had to edge out (assuming PSG were out and out favourites to get through).

[Baby BooBoo]

Roma came to Olimpico 5th on the ladder but we were currently top, with 4 points on Fiorentina. I expected a tight contest, which was how it turned out. The contest was fought out in the midfield, where Paixao and Skop battled it out with Roma's 33 mil rated midfielder from Croatia, Darko Bilic, who seemed to lift a notch when playing us. They nullified him beautifully. Seidan was having a tough day, missing a couple of easy chances. We then scored the most unTorino-like goal ever - a long ball from Korolev spearing right down the center of the pitch, Skop collecting in their half and outsprinting the slow defense, to coolly chip it over the on-rushing keeper's head to make it 1-0. From that point on it became a matter of hanging on, and we did just that, dominating possession also. There was now starting to be a gap at the top, but I wouldn't allow us any time to ponder that just yet.

Now for Dortmund, 4 days later at Signal Iduna Park. 63,000 fans came to see their hometown heroes take the bull by the horns and snatch that 2nd Champions League spot. Unfortunately for them, we had other ideas. Once again there were no surprises in my game plan - give them possession, and try and hit on the break with the speedy Seidan and Meeuws. It worked perfectly. A contested ball was pinched by Feijao deep in leftback territory in the 17th minute was shuttled quickly to Seidan and then onto a running Meeuws unmarked in the far right of their box - he smashed it home triumphantly. They barely had time to recover from that when, not 10 minutes later, Seidan pinched a ball and headed into the deep left wing position, from where he passed to Feijao, on the edge of the box but virtually on the byline. Audaciously, he chipped the keeper and silenced the crowd. At that point I had the feeling that we were going to be in for a good night, but they got some life back into the contest by scoring off a corner a few minutes before halftime. On 56 minutes, though, Mendonca, on for a tiring Semenyuk, beat the offisde trap via a long ball from Feijao, and finished virtually identically to Meeuws. When they had a man sent off 20 minutes later for a second yellow card, the game was all ours. I sent a flask of kumiss to the Dortmund manager in commiseration and he later texted me for the 'kind gift'. Did that mean he had drunk it or not ?

[Baby BooBoo]

'So what's happened to these match-fixers, Alan ?'

'Don't know, the reports have died down. The problem is, boss; we are doing a hell of a lot better than people expected of the team, and there are always rumours going around when that happens...' Alan shrugged. 'Its not like we can do anything about it !'

I snorted. "Yeah, let's lose a few games to prove that we're mortal, eh ? I tell you what though, I don't care if the opposition has been bought off or not, the next time we play Juventus we have a few scores to settle.'

'Don't talk like that boss. You know how the lads will get a rush a blood to their heads and start seeing red.'

'Yeah, yeah, the pundits always worry about that but I haven't seen much evidence of that happening in any games we've played. Its only ever helped ! Besides, what's the Mongol warrior spirit without a bit of bite ?'

Alan Ass Man started swinging the scimitar I had hanging up on the wall of my room. 'Hey, these are good...'

'Oi, put that down. That cost me an arm and a leg !'

'This wasn't that special package the doorman had to heave up the stairs yesterday, did it ?'

'Yaar, mon. My 'special friend' in Kazakhstan sent it up. Apparently real 9th century. Imagine, a real Mongol probably touched it. Used it ! I'm going to use it in team talsk !'

'What, real assertively ?'

I meaned back in my directors chair, utterly smug. 'Yaar, mon....'

'Better not show them the made in China stamp on the hilt, then...'

I sat bot upright. 'What, lemme see that, did that sonofabeetch............................'

[Baby BooBoo]

Is it a measure of complacency that you treat some matches as simply less important than others ? If so, I would probably have been guilty as charged. I was looking further on than these next two matches - but it wasn't as if I was going to let these slide either, not with us somehow 1st on the ladder and in imperious form. Well, that was what I told the lads as I brandished the sword at them. I think they got the message. Some wit asked how we were going to get the warhorse into the change room to complete the look.

We went west to play Genoa, and despite playing away, I attacked. It must have caught them out, because they folded like a house of cards. Semenyuk had not recovered in time to return for this match so Mendonca got a start. He set up the first goal on 26 minutes, a simple through ball that Seidan ran onto and from 5 meters out, angled home into the far right corner. When Feijao scored off a penalty in the 45th minute, Seidan being dragged down before a cross arrived in the box, the game was effectively over. We allowed them only one (unsuccessful) shot at goal.

3 days later, inter came to visit. They had started to become our beating boys, and on this occasion, with the form we were in, made little impression against us. This was more even, but we finished far better than they did, and it showed on the scoreboard. Marocchi had stepped in for the knackered Meeuws, and got us going in the 7th minute by running onto a through ball by Seidan, turning the shoulder of his marking defender as he did so, and slotting it home at the near post. Just before the half was up, a swift counterattack started by a Jardim interception in our leftback position, with a half-dozen short passes ferrying it to Feijao storming home from the left from another Seidan through pass - this time he smashed it home. When Bilic nodded home a corner after the break the game had again effectively ended prematurely, and that was how it ended, 3-0. We had the wood on Inter, and their manager knew it.

That focused my attention on the next two matches. The della mole derby against bloody Juventus again (at Juve) and then the all important last match of the Champions League group, where we were leading the group on 1 point, and needed one more to guarantee we topped the group instead of PSG, who were coming up to play us.

[Baby BooBoo]

I hated Juventus stadium. It just reminded us constantly of how much richer the black and white were than us. 50,000 fans in a new, state of the art stadium, while Olimpico creaked and looked precisely like the 1960s construct which it was. Perhaps one day, if I stayed long enough and enjoyed enough success, they would finally build us a new one. Would they...even name it after me ? I dared not even dream about it, it seemed so outlandishly unlikely that I didn't even say anything to Alan.

So we rocked up to said stadium and had 50,000 fans wave their hated banners at us. I brandished a huge, A3 sized blow-up of the league table, out position at the top highlighted in red, theirs (12th) in pink. Someone said it was provocative in the media later. I started to defend it, and then decided not to. It was what it was. I hid the scimitar behind my back - now that woudl have set the Ultras off.....

We set off with the same away game plan, but this time Juve simply sat back and didn't press hard enough for us to counterattack effectively. So I probed a little, then st back, and probed some more - they seemed to be content mirroring my every move. Meanwhile, in keeping with the spirit of the game, yellow cards were flying here, there, everywhere. Fir such a tactically intriguing game, it was letdown that the only goal came from a simple nod-in off a corner. Unfortunately it was a Juve head that nodded it past Korolev. I sent the lads to attack after that but to no avail. 1-0 to bloody Juve again. The fans were inconsolable, even when it was pointed out that a) it was our first loss for the season and b) results elsewhere gave us a 10 point lead on Fiorentina in the league. Fans will be a bit one-eyed about these derbies. I was already planning the return bout next May myself......

[Baby BooBoo]

'Have you ever thought...' started Alan,'....what's going to happen it we ever transfer list Seidan ?'

I looked up from the newspaper I was perusing. My Italian was not much better but I liked the pictures in the tabloids.

'What do you mean ?'

'Er, his current partner, the club psychologist, is also the Chairman's daughter....?'

'Oh f&^k !'

Alan scratched his head. 'Let's hope we never have a situation where he wants to leave.'

'Not while they're together anyway. Say, you don't think we should...'

'He's in the best form of his life. And getting better before every game, literally in front of our eyes. You want to jeopardise that in some way ?'

I sighed. Alan was right. For once. 'OK, let's hope his form doesn't collapse.'

'Or...' Alan said, suddenly conspiratorially,'.....let's say we're one or two physiotherapists short at the club and decide to bring in a couple more...'

'And what ? You're saying all female physios are babes ? That's a very sexist thing to say, Alan', I replied, winking at him.

'Oh not at all, Kubes. We will get physios on their merit. And one of those criteria might be their capacity to massage all the sore spots on a striker's legs, let's say...'

I laughed. 'Keep up this conversation and we'll feature in one of these rags soon enough.'

'Doesn't matter, half the nongs that read it only look at the pictures anyway....'

I buried my head in a fascinating article about garbage recycling.

[Baby BooBoo]

2 days later, PSG and their galaxy of stars arrive at rundown Olimpico to play us for top spot on the group ladder. I was desperate for that one point which would guarantee us an easier game in the next round. PSG wanted to guarantee that they would finish above Dortmund, at least, and if they beat us, send us to No.2. A lot at stake.

Semenyuk was not fully fit after recovering from his injury, but despite Mendonca doing very reasonably in his absence, I decided to chance him back in the team. Jardim was not recovered enough from the derby so de la Mata got a start. Things got off to a very bad start for us in the 7th minute when Skop needed to be stretchered off. That left us Verhayen, the 18 year old, to help Paixao in midfield, as Ferrandiz was injured. I had a bad feeling about this. That feeling dissipated exactly 2 minutes later when Seidan collected the ball in midfield, waltzed past three defenders and found the space to shoot from just inside the box and tucked it into the corner of the PSG net. Wow ! We started to probe a little more, but I was wary of PSG's ability on the park, despite the fact that they were conceding possession to us, I just thought an equaliser might not be far away. As it turns out, on 56 minutes 27 year old Brazilian international right winger Paizinho crossed into our box, where Uruguay's aging but peerless 32 year old striker Martinez did the needful, past a stranded Korolev. Instead of attacking for the duration, I decided that retreat was the better part of valour, as a draw would still send us through top. So we started dallying, while PSG pressed for another goal. Mendonca came on for the exhausted Semenyuk and was taken off 5 minutes later injured, unlucky bugger. If there was any symbol that we needed to hang on now, this was it. So once again I left our fate to our backline, and they did not disappoint. We walked off with a 1-1 scoreline, but more importantly, top of out group. I was elated. And happier still 2 days later when we drew Valencia in the first knock-out round. That was do-able.

[Baby BooBoo]

2 games to the Christmas break -

Torino v Padova 2-0 (home). I rest Seidan and the still out of sorts Ellisalde comes in. Semenyuk gets us off 13 minutes in, beating the keeper on his near post after neat build-up play by Feijao on the left draws in three defenders. The natch is sealed on 79 minutes when 18 year old Lavezzi, substituting for Semenyuk, heads home a Feijao cross. His first league goal and the whole team is pleased for him.

Torino v Cagliari 5-0 (home). Seidan is brought back and nabs the first two goals. The boys then go on the rampage; Paixao, Meeuws and Feijao scoring goals. Seidan is lightly injured later and I take him off after 70 minutes. The press excoriate me for taking him off before his hat trick. I make them take a photo of me holding a prosthetic leg and suggest that this is what he would have been playing with if I had left him on the pitch any longer. The press think I am stark raving mad. I tell them I have suddenly lost the ability to read Italian, and bugger off back to France for Christmas.

[Baby BooBoo]

'Are the physios lined up yet ?' I ask Alan as soon as he plonks his bag down in his office, straight off the plane from Heathrow.

'Hee, hee,' he giggled. 'You should see what I've lined up There's this one from Germany with big...'

I held up my hand. 'No, actually, don't tell me the details. I shouldn't get caught in this sort of stuff. I'm the general and you are..' I had to thnk about this,'...the sargeant-major. Details and logistics are your job, I do the big stuff, strategy.'

'Big stuff is right...I tell you, she's got these big....'

I sighed and walked out of the office with my fingers jammed in my ears. But I still catch his parting words'....yeah, boss, that's about how big they are...'

[Baby BooBoo]

We play Bari at home after the break. Bilic stars, nabbing a goal. We let in 2 goals but reply with 5 of our own - Semenyuk gets a magnificent hat trick and an own goal sums up Bari's season. They are firmly ensconced at the bottom, seemingly doomed even at this stage of the season.

The very next day Stuttgart send in a transfer request for a silly 3.6 million. He is worth 3 million according to us, so I send back a ridiculous 9 million answer, and they accept. I am flabbergasted. Bilic is a fine player, but will never be worth 9 million in anyone's crazy valuation. Moreover he isn't homegrown for the purposes of European competitions, so there is that. Though he has potential, he is now 23 and I suspect will never quite make his full potential, though he has improved a fair bit recently. Ferrandiz is already far better than him and younger, and I have at least one target that's a defender for next season. I decide to take Stuttgart up on it. The fans are livid, having seen him demolish Bari, but I simply had to do it. It was an offer too good to let go. I now have 13 million left of my initial 40 million transfer budget - not bad work eh ?

[Baby BooBoo]

Bologna, the fat ones, come up to Olimpico next. They remain a respectable 12th on the ladder. Far from respectable, however, is their approach to the game. They set out to foul us out of the game, and succeed, in the main, picking up 7 yellow cards themselves ! I start Lavezzi for Feijao, who needs a rest, and he rewards me in the 12th minute with his second ever goal for us. A long range effort from Semenyuk outside the box is palmed straight to Lavezzi by the keeper - Lavezzi, caught awkwardly himself, sends back this agonisingly looping header towards goal. The keeper flings up an arm as he tries to rise, but it deflects it off to the side and dribbles into the net. Not a classic, but at 18, you'll take it, I suspect. Unfortunately we get rattled by the aggressive approach from the fat ones and never really get any rhythm going, so we have no answer to their equaliser on 46 minutes; yet another headed goal off a corner. I am furious and demand that we start practising our defensive set piece moves.

[Baby BooBoo]

I decided to call a team meeting. there was no crisis, just a bad few weeks in terms of what we should have been achieving, and ongoing disquiet about Bilic's transfer.

'.....and I know we can all do a bit better.'

Scholten put his hand up. He looked a little bored. 'I know we didn't do well last game, boss, but we're now 9 points on top of the league. Does it really matter ?'

'Yes it does. These points can matter at the end of the season. What's with the complacency; its not like we've won the league hundreds of times and this is just routine. How badly does this club want this, huh ? This club has not won Serie A since 1975. Which of us was born then ?'

The players were shamed enough not to speak up.

'What was with selling Bilic ? We could have done with the cover'. That was Ferrandiz.

'Did you see how much they paid for him ? I like Nicola, he's a good player, but everyone has his price. And they paid well and truly above the odds. It just opens up opportunities for more of you !' I was hoping for a positive reaction but it seemed sullen. 'Lads, let's finish this season in style.'

There were some nods to that, at least.

'Anyway, I haven't told you about the newest recruit !'

Everyone sat up at that news. They obviously hadn't heard.

'Actually, I'm going to leave it to Alan. It was his coup, his transfer to boast about.' Now everyone was intrigued. They knew how I wielded an iron hand over transfers.

Alan stood up, beaming.

'Ill just leave you to it, Alan.' I walked up to the door. 'Do you want me to send the new physio down while I'm upstairs.'

'Sure, boss.'

The lads looked bored now. They hardly cared about being introduced to the new physio. Well, they were about to be surprised.....