To Beat the Devil

[WLKRAS]

To Beat the Devil

Part One - The Devil’s in the Detail.

The December wind howled loudly past my ears and on down the narrow passage. I was cold. And hungry. And penniless. I wondered where I was going to get my next meal from. The financial crisis had hit me hard. Cutbacks had cost me my job at the meat packaging plant. And new jobs were hard to come by. My wife had seen it coming and decided to shack up with a City banker, leaving me with a mortgage I couldn’t pay. So my home got repossessed. I floated around from one council house to the next, but eventually ended up on the streets. All I had left was a battered old guitar which I used to busk on the streets. But in a cold December, people didn’t stop to listen. Or to throw a couple of pennies in my empty case.

I pushed on down the alleyway. It was deserted. A sign glowed at the far end. “Ye Olde Taverne” it read. I was hoping to stop for an hour or two, unnoticed. To warm up a little bit. Maybe someone would take pity on me and buy me some food. Maybe a drink. The door creaked loudly when I entered. It wasn’t very busy. There was a bartender, busying himself with some bottles in the far corner. Another man was sat at the bar. Our eyes met and a chill ran down my spine. There was something strange about this man. I couldn’t put my finger on it, it was no more than a glimpsed feeling. But it made me feel uncomfortable. The door fell shut behind me. I didn’t really want to stay with this stranger here, but I really didn’t want to be outside either. The stranger pushed out the seat next to him and flashed a friendly smile.

“How are ya” he drawled in an accent that sounded like it was from the American Deep South.

“Thirsty” I replied cautiously.

“Then let me buy ya a beer” he said, again with a wide smile. There was something unnerving about it. Something not quite out of this world. But my thirst was greater than my reservations. So I propped my guitar case against the bar and clambered onto the stool. The stranger smiled at me.

“It’s a hard life, ain’t it?” he said, nodding at the case. I just looked at him with a blank stare. He smiled again, knowingly.

“Two beers, bartender” he called, never taking his eyes off me. “And maybe some nibbles for my friend here?” he added on.

“Thanks” I replied, unsure what else to say.

“Don’t worry” he replied. “I know how hard an artist’s life can be” he said as he passed over my beer.

“Thanks again. I’m not sure you can class me as an artist though” I said as the nibbles arrived. It was a combination of nachos and some normal crisps, laid out on a large plate. I hungrily wolfed down the food and greedily drank the pint. A new one arrived as if by magic as I chatted to this stranger. He seemed to know a lot about me.

“So you ain’t making no money, are ya?” he was asking, taking a small sip of his pint. I hadn’t noticed until now that he’d barely drank his, while I was halfway through my second.

“You been reading my mail” I replied. It was the truth. Everything I had was in this pub.

“How would you like to be the most famous man in the whole of England?” the stranger asked. He flashed all his teeth in an unnaturally white smile. And those eyes. What was is it with those eyes.

“Fame isn’t anything” I said offhandedly.

“You want money? I can arrange that too. More money than you ever dreamt off. And women. Ooooh, the women” he went on.

“Is this some sort of joke? Where’s the hidden camera?” I asked downing the rest of my pint.

“No. It’s no joke.” the stranger said. He pulled out a formal looking piece of paper. It seemed to materialise in his hand out of nowhere. “All you gotta do, is sign right here” he pointed to the dotted line at the bottom of the page.

I frowned at him. The beer on my fairly empty stomach was starting to take hold. I struggled to even read the paper.

“Let me get this sssstraight” I slurred. “I sssssign your piece of paper and you’ll make me famous, richhhhh and get me all the women I can handle?” My mind’s eye was filled with visions of splendour.

“That’s all you gotta do. It might not be instant, but in six months, for definite”.

I looked at the guy again. The flashing white teeth were almost blinding me. The room suddenly seemed unnaturally hot. Cigarette smoke burned my eyes. I looked at the paper and smiled

“Do you have a pen?” I asked.

[tenthreeleader]

Like your start. And I may have to read "Damn Yankees" again if you go where I think you might be going with this!

[WLKRAS]

Thanks 10-3. And yes, you may be along the right track

Four months later

I’d heard nothing more of the stranger, so I’d been forced to return to my old life. I was stood busking in the April sun in the centre of Manchester, playing an old Johnny Cash song as people walked past me, when suddenly, a man stopped. A very well dressed man. A neat business suit, designer sunglasses. He looked like a well-tailored billionaire. He stood and cocked his head to one side as he listened.

“I fell in, to a burning ring of fire” I sang. The man smiled and removed his sunglasses. The words caught in my mouth. It was the stranger from the tavern. The eyes had their same strange otherworldliness to them. And the smile was just as blinding as it had been before. The most perfect white smile you could imagine.

“Remember me?” he asked. I simply nodded in return, unable to speak.

“Good” he continued. He threw a newspaper into my guitar case. “Remember what we talked about? That’s how it’s going to happen” he said. I looked at the paper. It was The Guardian. They way he had tossed it down, meant it had landed backpage up. The entire page was covered by a photo of one of the most well known men in England. Underneath the headline was big and bold and read:

Fergie to retire

I looked up again, but the stranger was gone. I picked up the paper and something fell out, jangling the few coins that were in my open guitar case. It was a key. I shook the paper gently and a note fell out as well. It was handwritten, in a beautiful elaborate script:

This key opens the door to an apartment two miles from Old Trafford. It has been completely stocked for your needs. You will find your neighbours most welcoming. Tomorrow, you’ll be contacted by telephone, asking you to interview for the United job. I’ve have arranged all the necessary credentials and qualifications. The board will be very keen to appoint you. You will find the terms of their offer most agreeable. I hope you will enjoy all the benefits and perks your new job has to offer. If you have any queries, you may contact me by telephone. My number is pre programmed on the mobile in your apartment under Milton

I turned the note over and found the exact address written on the reverse. I wasn’t convinced about it all, but it was worth checking out. So I packed up my guitar and headed off, it would be a long walk.

[WLKRAS]

When I arrived at the apartment, I was astonished. It was gigantic, with every mod con anyone could ever desire. It was decadently furnished, with absolutely no expense spared. The wardrobe was filled with designer clothing, there was a watch box full of expensive watches and on the bar in the kitchen was a brand new smartphone along with a set of keys to a BMW X6.

I felt like I’d died and gone to heaven. The stranger had kept his promise. This place was worth more than all the money I had seen in a lifetime. And I’d indeed be famous if his offer of the Manchester United job would come through. I was just thinking about the third promise he made, when the doorbell rang.

I walked over to the door and opened it, only two find two absolutely stunningly beautiful women waiting outside it. A blonde on the left and a raven-haired beauty on the right. Both were wearing short dresses that clung to their figure and revealed a rather large amount of flesh and some stunning cleavage.

“Hi” they said in chorus.

“Hi” I stammered back.

“I’m Natasha” the black haired girl leant forward and whispered in my ear.

“And I’m Angel” the blonde added into the other one. “I guess you’re our new neighbour” she smiled.

“We’d like to welcome you to the building” Natasha pouted. “Can we come in?” she asked with a devilish smile on her face.

“Of course, ladies, come right in” I said, stepping aside to let them past. They looked around approvingly.

“Aren’t you going to give us a tour?” Angel asked, a twinkle in her eyes.

“Of course, where shall we start?” I asked. The two girls looked at each other and then at me.

“The bedroom?” they suggested.

[tenthreeleader]

The Johnny Cash tune that came to my mind was this one ..

"God's Gonna Cut You Down"

Going to be following this.

[WLKRAS]

The next day

A loud ringing noise rose me from my slumber the next morning. Gathering my wits about me, I determined that I was still in my new bedroom. Angel and Natasha were curled up either side of me, their beautiful figures only half covered by the sheets. They started to stir as well, disturbed by the noise. I delicately clambered out of the bed, every muscle of my being aching. It was a good ache though. It brought a smile to my face as the memories of the night before flooded back.

Still naked, I padded into the kitchen and discovered the ringing noise came from my new telephone. Apparently Milton had programmed a whole bunch of numbers into the memory, because the display read “Ed Woodward (office)”. I composed myself and picked up the phone.

“Hello?” I spoke into it

“Mr Cash?” the voice on the other end asked.

“That’s me” I replied.

“It’s Ed Woodward, chairman at Manchester United. As you may be aware, Sir Alex Ferguson has announced that he his to retire at the end of the season”

“Yes, it was in the paper yesterday” I replied sheepishly.

“Your friend Mr Milton, who is an important figure behind the scenes here at the Red Devils, has strongly suggested that we should consider you as his replacement. I must say, I’m surprised no one has heard of you before, considering your credentials” he said glowingly.

“Oh, I try to keep below the radar” I replied casually. As I spoke, my bedroom door opened and a naked Natasha came wandering out towards me.

“When would be a suitable time for you to attend an interview today?” Woodward asked as Natasha approached and eyed me up lustily.

“It would have to be this afternoon I’m afraid. I think my morning will be quite busy” I said, as Angel also emerged from the bedroom.

“Shall we say four o’clock then?”

“Perfect” I replied, hanging up the phone and returning my attentions to the two gorgeous women in my apartment.

[WLKRAS]

Two months later

….Sensational news coming out of Old Trafford today, forty-three year old Kris Cash, a complete unknown, has been appointed manager of Manchester United following Sir Alex Ferguson’s retirement. While no one has ever heard of Cash, he’s quick on his way to becoming the most famous man in England…

I turned off the TV in the plush manager’s office. Milton had kept his word. I breezed through the interview process with such ease, I was convinced there was something fishy going on. The nagging feeling in the back of my head still said something was off about this whole deal. But still, since I was manager of the most famous club in the world. I earned wages greater than I ever thought imaginable and my two new neighbours seemed to have taken a shine to me and visited my flat repeatedly, be it alone or both at the same time. I wasn’t going to argue with any of it.

I was happy enough with the squad at first glance. It was still a team that had won the last league season by eleven points. There was a few places where we could improve and replace some aging legs, but we didn’t have to spend just for the sake of spending. That was a good thing as the board had only given me a transfer budget of twelve million pounds. The wage budget had a spare two hundred thousand a week, which should be plenty for any acquisitions I’d wish to make.

I’d had my meetings this morning with the board, the coaching staff and the team. Everyone seemed so positive. They treated me like royalty. I don’t get it. I haven’t done anything to warrant this treatment, yet people seem to think I can walk on water. Feels more like hot coals to me at the minute! Tomorrow would see my first trial by fire. A press conference and a friendly against the U21 side. Guess that’s when we find out how and what.

[WLKRAS]

The Manchester United press room was packed to the rafters for my first public appearance as their manager. I was trying my hardest to keep calm, but the sight of forty odd journalists with their assorted camera’s and bright lights made that easier said than done. Ed Woodward started proceedings off.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome. I’m sure you all have a lot of questions today, but Mr Cash is keen to get started with his duties as manager, so time today will be limited. I myself shall remain available for further questions after Mr Cash has departed. Kris, the floor is yours.”

That was my cue to make my own brief statement.

“Thank you Mr Chairman. Let me start off by saying I’m delighted to have been appointed manager of Manchester United and I am determined to make a success of my first season in charge. I am aware that not many of you will have heard of me, but I consider that an asset rather than a weakness. Now, I have time for a few questions and our press officer will select a number of people to ask their questions”

The press officer went round and started things off.

“Jake Butcher, BBC Radio Manchester. A lot of people have expressed their surprise at your appointment, saying that you are too much of an unknown for this job. How can a manager with little or no reputation keep world famous footballers in line?” a greying man dressed in a tweed jacket asked.

“Well, that’s quite simple Mr Butcher. I decide who plays and who doesn’t by the decision of the club’s owners. And the players, above all, want to play football. So reputation doesn’t really come into it, it’s just a case of hierarchy.”

The next man to stand up looked familiar and when he spoke, I realised why. He was the man who wrote the article on Ferguson when he announced his retirement.

“Max Walton, The Guardian. Do you believe the fans expectations are realistic, considering your lack of experience?”

“We are Manchester United. We should always strive to win the title, regardless of who is in charge” I replied. I could see journalists nodding approvingly at that.

Another journalist interjected quickly.

“Louis Rowe, WSM. Will you be able to cope with the pressure of such high expectations?”

“I’m not even going to dignify that comment with an answer” I replied sternly. “Last question, please”

“John Blake, sportinglife.com. Are you looking to strengthen the squad and if so, in what area’s? Also any truth in the rumours about you signing Diego Costa?”

“That’s three questions in one, Mr Blake” I laughed. “I haven’t yet made a determination on any potential signings. But I doubt that we’ll be signing Diego Costa. He’s a good player, but we have a lot of good forwards already” I replied before standing.

“Thank you gentlemen, that will be all for Mr Cash today” Woodward said.

I’d dipped my toes. The water felt rather hot though. I’m sure the journalists will have all sorts of statements to make about my performance. But that’s nothing to worry about. I’m living the dream. And no journalist is going to ruin that.

[WLKRAS]

I spent the afternoon preparing for my first match in charge. Admittedly, it was only a behind closed doors friendly against the U21’s, but that wouldn’t make things any easier. If I was to make a success of this management malarky, I needed the players on board.

While I was preparing, my phone kept ringing off the hook. First Brentford and Preston representatives and later one from Wolves as well, all enquiring about getting Michael Keane in on loan. I didn’t think the youngster was like to be in the first team squad, so I was happy to let him depart to get some experience.

I setteled on a 4-2-3-1 formation, with two central midfielders and 3 attacking players.

David De Gea was first choice in goal, although Lindegaard was sure to get the odd game. At the back, we looked pretty solid. Rio Ferdinand and Nemanja Vidic would be at centre back, as long as they could stay fit enough, with the backup of Smalling and Evans. Rafael was injured, but would be first pick at right back. Phil Jones started today in his stead and had all the makings of a handy utility player. Patrice Evra would be the automatic selection at left back, ahead of Buttner.

Midfield was a different matter. For the two central positions, there were only four players. Michael Carrick and Marouane Feillaini started ahead of Ryan Giggs and Tom Cleverly but I’d already found myself looking for possible alternatives, preferably with a bit of steel to them. Wingers and attacking midfielders I had aplenty and I settled on Antonio Valencia, Wayne Rooney and Juan Mata as my attacking midfield Troika. That still left me the likes of Young, the injured Nani, Kagawa and young Januzaj as alternatives. Up front, Van Persie got the nod, but Welbeck and Hernandez were viable alternatives.

I told the players to impress me, but that message didn’t really seem to get through. The players were treating it for what this game really was. A kickabout against the kids. My tempers were not helped when Rooney took exactly four minutes to limp off with an injury. I responded by bringing on Young to go on the left and moved Mata to the middle of the park.

The game ebbed and flowed and a few of the youngsters were working hard, hoping to impress their new manager. James Wilson was one of them and he went close, only to be denied by the combined might of Ferdinand and Vidic. At the other end, Van Persie had his effort blocked by a defender at the near post, the Dutchman throwing his arms up in frustration.

The first team did go ahead 34 minutes into the match. From a Valencia corner, it was Rio Ferdinand of all people who swept in a low shot at the far post. That was it as far as goals were concerned in the first half, but there was enough time for van Persie to limp of as well, to be replaced by Welbeck.

I made a number of changes at halftime to get a look at the other players in the squad. The subs rewarded me straight away with a lovely build up goal. Januzaj brought the ball forward from the left before playing it into Cleverly in the middle. He moved it forward to Giggs on the edge of the D. Giggs turned and dinked the ball into the run of Kagawa in the box. The Japanese midfielder had no problem slotting it home from close range.

Four minutes later, Evans made it three from a Januzaj corner and a further eight minutes, Danny Welbeck played a one-two with Giggs and slotted it low into the right of the net. Four-nil after an hour and that was enough for me. I sat back and enjoyed watching the kids kicking it about. They managed to get one back with a nicely built-up goal, finished with a lob by Rudge.

Man Utd 4 (Ferdinand, Kagawa, Evans, Welbeck)

Man Utd U21’s 1 (Rudge)

[WLKRAS]

There was plenty of work to be done ahead of our first official friendly versus Lausanne. We’ve have to travel to Switzerland for it, but that would be no problem. My scouting team, lead by Jim Lawlor had prepared what was really a summary report on our upcoming opponents. The low down was clear enough. They didn’t seem to solid defensively, so our best approach to match would be to get the ball forward and run rings around them. Or so the scouts suggested. In any case, it was a clear enough plan and I set the coaches to work on it on the training ground.

In the meantime, I was busy in my office. Brentford were on the phone again. After initially trying to get Michael Keane on loan, they were now after young goalkeeper Sam Johnstone, also on loan. I saw no objections to letting the youngster have a chance at some league football, so I accepted their offer. Meanwhile, Keane had rejected their offer and opted for a loan spell at Wolves instead.

As well as working hard on scouting our opponents, our scouts were also working their socks off to find me a central defensive midfielder and a right winger. Well, perhaps not so hard in finding the right winger, because the results they came back with for that position were either terrible players or hugely overpriced. I was already resigning myself to seeing lots of game time for both Nani and Valencia. At least there were some decent prospects for the central midfield position, although no concrete offers have yet been made.

I didn’t have much time to work on player transfers though. My first priority now was to pack up and prepare for our gruelling World Tour. Lausanne was only the first stop on our world adventure. From there we’d travel to Moscow, Kansas and Vancouver (in the space of ten days), before returning to Manchester for a few days. Then we’d have to more trips, to Germany and Spain, before heading to London for the Community Shield. In total, we’d travel around 16,300 miles in about a month’s time. It was ludicrous, these days, money makes the world go ‘ round. And the footballers just go with it. But as long as it pays my wages, I’ll go along with it. At least I’ll see a bit of the world.

[WLKRAS]

The Olympic Stadium in Lausanne was one of those multi-functional grounds. Home to the Diamond League meeting in Lausanne as well as the local football team, it had a big athletics track around the outside. It wasn’t a pretty sight. I varied my eleven based on fitness and sent out the following team: De Gea; Jones, Evans, Smalling, Evra; Feillaini, Carrick; Januzaj, Rooney, Welbeck; Hernandez.

“Alright lads, we’re obviously the favourites for this game, so I want you to impress me. Keep the ball on the deck and circulate it quickly. Use the flanks and get Adnan and Danny involved.” I told the players. “Wayne. dictate the tempo. Most of our attacks should go through you, so make yourself heard” I added to Rooney.

We immediately pressed forward from the kickoff and didn’t let Lausanne get any time on the ball. Rooney was especially eager to make his mark on the game. Ten minutes into the match, he collected the ball in the middle of the park, from Feillaini and slid an inch perfect pass forward for Chicharito Hernandez. The Mexican made no mistake and fired a shot low and to the left of the goalkeeper to make it 1-0. We continued to press forward and saw efforts by Danyy Welbeck denied and Feillaini fired wide of the mark.

In the eighteenth minute, we got a corner. Rooney jogged over to take it and fired it towards the near post. The ball got caught in a scramble between Chris Smalling and a Lausanne defender, but our centre back came out victorious and punted the ball in at the near post. Two-nil to the good with more than seventy minutes left to play.

Things settled down a bit from there and it wasn’t until the twentyeight minute that David de Gea had to make his first save. Yannis Tafer had a fairly easy chance after good play down the right, but De Gea swooped low and got a hand to his headed effort. We hit back straight away. Rooney, seemingly relishing his new role off the lone striker, had drifted out right. Hernandez found him with a pinpoint pass, but Rooney’s effort wasn’t good enough and he fired across goal and wide.

But seven minutes later, we had a third goal on the board. It started with a spell of dominant possession, as we built up from to back. Januzaj and Fellaini both saw crosses cleared, but we always managed to pick up the second ball and start the cycle again. The third time was the charm. It started with Evra on the left. He played it into Carrick in the middle and we quickly shifted the play to the right through Fellaini and Januzaj. The teenager picked the ball up and ran with it past his marker before putting in a low cross. Hernandez was waiting to pounce in the middle, but defender Fulvio Delaquis beat him to it. Unfortunately for him, he scuffed his clearance off the outside of his boot, straight into the back of the net.

With the players tiring already and a long travel schedule still ahead, I made wholesale changes at halftime. But not before I had praised the lads coming off for their wonderful work in the first half. We’d dominated possession and had three times as many efforts to score.

Of course, the second half was a different affair. With the entire team changed over, we had to start afresh and that took much of the sting out of the match. We still controlled the ball for most of the game, but with a 3-0 lead there wasn’t the same drive to move forward and score more goals, even from the subs. Kagawa was the dangerman, seeing an effort fly just wide and having another one saved by the Lausanne goalkeeper, but that was the extent of our forward thrusts. At the same time, Lausanne with a more settled team, surged forward and forced Lindegaard into a couple of decent saves. But between Rio, Vidic and Lindegaard, we managed to keep a clean sheet and shut out our opponents. The game petered out and in my head, I was already preparing for the next leg of our trip. Off to Moscow next.

Lausanne 0

Man Utd 3 (Hernandez, Smalling, o.g.)

[WLKRAS]

Rather than flying back and forth all the time, we would be staying in Lausanne until late Monday before travelling on to Moscow for our Wednesday game against Lokomotiv. As part of our friendly, the board had negotiated that we could use Lausanne’s training facilities while we stayed in Switzerland. The morning after the Lausanne match, I received a message from Brian McClair to state that Sam Johnstone’s loan deal to Brentford had been completed.

Steve Round led the players through a light training session as I worked from the stands. There was a stack of scouting reports in my inbox and the most important one was on Sebastian Rode. The twenty two year old German was a central midfielder who would fit very well in my mould for a defensive minded player with some steel in the centre of the mark. He was a hard worker, with considerable defensive ability, but he had that added bit of skill that allowed him to spray passes and play himself out of trouble. The scouting report on him also indicated that he was likely to improve with a few years behind him and become a player who was of Man United standard.

Having read the report, I was convinced. We needed a player in the centre of the park and Rode was young enough to not demand an immediate starting place, but good enough to be a United player. I made a quick telephone call and set the ball rolling with a £7.5M offer to his club Frankfurt.

The report on our next opponents was fairly short. Lokomotiv had a number of well-known players like Lassana Diarra and former Spurs striker Roman Pavlyuchenko. Vedran Corluka was also at the club, but he would be missing through injury, which would make our job easier.The scouts indicated that they would play a 4-4-2 system with a fairly direct passing game, but we wouldn’t have much to worry about from them. I took the last sentence with a pinch of salt and moved on to the next report. I looked up to see Rooney score a delightful chipped finish in a shooting drill. If he could continue to do things like that once the league season started, I had high hopes for our season.

[WLKRAS]

Training on Monday was back to the real work. We focussed on fitness in order to get the players in top shape for the season ahead. There were numerous mutterings and curses when I announced this, especially from Rooney, but the players took to it well enough. Fitness coaches Richard Hawkins and Tony Strudwick really put the players through their paces and whenever someone complained, Phil Neville was there to chirp that they should be more like Nicky Butt, who once famously tried to run off some nasty blisters. The one man who didn’t complain was Ryan Giggs. Probably because he was the fittest of the lot, despite being nearly 40. Giggsy ran and ran and ran some more, while the likes of Rooney and cigarette addict Evra were bent over double. I couldn’t help but admire the Welshman for his sheer determination.

When the training session was finished, I was ambushed by a pair of journalists, Dean Gordon from the BBC and Dan Smith for the Manchester Evening News. Both had heard rumours about player movements and wanted to ask me about them. I was worried our move for Rode was already out in the open, but mercifully, their focus was on other matters.

It was the BBC man who got his question in first.

“Kris, there’s strong indications coming out of Spain and Barcelona in particular, that Wayne Rooney is a transfer target for Gerardo Martino’s Barcelona side. What is your reaction that that news?” he asked.

I was quiet for a moment as I thought. Rooney wasn’t the best trainer in the world an would never be the fittest player in the team. But at the same time, he had that something that you don’t often see in players. That extra little bit of quality that can decide matches. He’d shown it in training yesterday.

“There’s no way Wayne is leaving. He’s an integral part of United’s future. Martino should look elsewhere, because as far as I’m concerned Rooney is not for sale”

Gordon nodded and left the floor open for Smith to ask his questions.

“What about Rafael? Paris Saint-Germain are said to be keen on him?”

“Rafael is a good player, but not irreplaceable. If a large enough offer came in for him, we’d have to consider it” I replied.

The news did not take long to travel. As we arrived at the airport, I was greeted by Joel Glazer, who had travelled with John Milton on the latter’s private plane. He quickly got down to business.

“There’s two reasons that I’m here. First of all, you will not travel with the team to Moscow tonight, we are going to Frankfurt. They have accepted our offer for Sebastian Rode, so we are going there to open contract negotiations. Secondly, Jean-Claude Blanc has approached us in his capacity as Director of Football at PSG. He wants to know how much we want for Rafael. They are apparently very keen on him and would like to have an answer tonight”

I was surprised at both developments. First of all, I had figured that the player and his agent would come to talk to us, not the other way around. Furthermore, I hadn’t expected PSG to move THAT quickly.

“Tell Blanc he will cost them £25M. No less” I replied. Glazer nodded approvingly. Beside him, Milton was showing off all of his extraordinary white teeth in a massive smile. I turned to the coaching staff and gave them instructions for training tomorrow. Then I turned back to the two gentleman waiting for me.

“Let’s go to Frankfurt”