ManUtd1

Nicely done over Bulgaria! Woohoo! I need to ask, though...was Billy in charge of the lads' water?

I have no witty retort. Sadly, that makes far more sense than anything I could gin up.

I already know that Stalin will be one of my favorite players in this save. Because reasons.

Gustav goes to...Elfsborg? An underperforming Elfsborg. But, still.

Thanks, man

Definitely my inspiration!

#SoyUnLoboHambriento

Many years later, as he faced the firing squad, Colonel Aureliano Buendía was to remember that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice. FK Partizan Beograd / Colombia July 2062 Mini-Update See as how, on a daily basis, I consume enough coffee to kill a horse...this could be a match made in heaven. The Colombian FA have been rather...blunt. After successive generations of brilliant players failing to reach the absolute pinnacle of the game, they need someone to take them the final step of the way. They want Telleus, and I'm the next best thing. They wanted to sign me up now, before I become impossible to attract to South America. I've been given a free hand with tactics. Well, not quite. Sebastian wants no strikers. He thinks they're overpaid...which tells me he doesn't quite understand football, even if his...success...off the pitch is beyond question. Am I flattered, to think they have this confidence in me? Yes. Intimidated by the task at hand? Maybe a little. Scared ****less? Absolutely.

FADE IN: EXT. HEADQUARTERS, Federación Colombiana de Fútbol. Bogotá – DAY A beautiful July day in the Altiplano, with the Cerros Orientales looming in the middle distance. Ambient sounds of this a bustling city gently fill the air. INT. PRESS ROOM The FCF crest adorns a podium at the front of the room. Shakira's Greatest Hits (Vol. XIV) plays quietly in the background. A phalanx of national and foreign reporters feast on the glorious buffet laid out for them, with fountains of coffee flowing like sweet red wine. Rumors have flown far and wide, even if the subject of all the speculation has remained in Belgrade, refusing any and all comment. Anticipation fills the air. HAMPUS LINDGREN, handsome with a salt-and-pepper hipster beard, sits calmly in the front row, enjoying the first non-Starbucks (and thus decent) cup of coffee he's had in months. A world-weary crinkle adorns his eyes, as the pre-eminent scholar on Telleus awaits what will surely be the next chapter -- a new era, if you will -- in the legacy of Telleus. His presence all but confirms to the assembled masses that the news today will be as the rumors suggest. At the stroke of 4, a door to the RIGHT of the podium opens and SEBASTIAN "EL BORRACHO" ESCOBAR, the FCF President quickly strides in, confidence marking his every step with a glowing smile, the smile that won a million hearts and slew a thousand souls. ESCOBAR reaches the podium and gleefully faces the eager mass of reporters. ESCOBAR: Buenas tardes, parceros! Thank you for coming here today. The announcements will be ... eh ... short. Los aguardientes, lo mejor. HAMPUS leans forward eagerly in anticipation, while the rest of the assembled media shout questions. ESCOBAR: Vale, to the business, first. The Federación are pleased to announce that the new Meester will be none other than Gunnar Vikander, the son and true heir to the legacy of the great Hakan Telleus, El Sueco Sagrado. The room erupts in sound. No further words need be spoken. The hype has built to a fever pitch. The articles have been written, they only need be published. ESCOBAR stands at the front of the room. Triumphant. In his eyes, he and he alone has made this happen, and he and he alone shall share the glory to come. As the sound quiets down, ESCOBAR locks eyes with HAMPUS, the only journalist present who seems to have a question. ESCOBAR nods in his direction. HAMPUS (adjusting his glasses): Señor, just one question. Why Vikander? Why now? Shouldn't he be given time to prove himself, beyond 2 years in Serbia? Shouldn't -- ESCOBAR (interrupting; counting on his fingers): No, no, no...you said the one question. Now we have... [counting on his fingers again] ... what is this...seven? HAMPUS: One, three, four...what's the difference? Isn't it ... premature ... to hire Vikander at this stage of his career? ESCOBAR: Pre...premature? What is this...a restaurant that becomes un burdel after the night has fallen? No, no. This is the fútbol. Young Vikander is his father's son, the new Sueco Sagrado. We have every confidence. If he no win...then...we no pay? Yes? Or... [laughing menacingly] maybe he get the ... how you say ... flying lessons? You can hear a pin drop in the press room. ESCOBAR has been long-rumored to be the head of Medellin's most vicious drug cartel. No sane man in Colombia would take that thinly-veiled threat as anything but a promise. HAMPUS begins to sweat. ESCOBAR scrutinizes HAMPUS carefully. HAMPUS wonders if he can perhaps catch an earlier flight back to Stockholm and is thankful that he packed light. HAMPUS (chuckling awkwardly): Well...you know...as a Swede myself -- At mention of HAMPUS' homeland, ESCOBAR's face lights up. ESCOBAR (interrupting): Sueco? La chimba, hermano! Vamos a rumbiar! Ya estoy prendido... Soy un lobo hambriento! ESCOBAR gestures to a man in the back, and Shakira once again fills the air. The press conference obviously over, the journalists begin to file out. Some, transmitting live to a global audience, sign off with confirmation of the biggest managerial appointment of the summer. Vikander is going to Colombia. FADE OUT FADE IN: MODEST HOUSE OUTSIDE SAINT-ETIENNE – NIGHT As the luscious TV5 Monde reporter signs off from Colombia, GUSTAV QUINTINO-WATSON is struck with a righteous fury and genuine malice. The mantle that was to be his -- the legacy of his father -- has been stolen once again by the usurper. Who must pay, and pay dearly. FADE OUT

Alright. Decisions have been made. Update to follow when I get home later

Exactly the narrative I'm thinking...I'm just mainly weighing up whether to do it or not. Partizan isn't an ideal spot for this, given our 6 non-EU player match restriction. It'd be a longer term project -- most likely looking to the 2070 World Cup.

Alright. Decision time. In the midst of my post-World Cup frustration regarding release clauses, I applied for the Colombia position. On the one hand, it feels very "early." On the other, it is very tempting since I've been wanting to manage them for years. There's also this regen, who has a brilliant name.