We all have those moments of uncertainty, or those moments of what if I did this differently, or what if I did that in a different way. Heartbreaking moments that stick with us forever.

What if Ronaldo (Brazilian) never got so many injuries. Why didn't Kane pass to Sterling against Croatia? Peschisolido against Arsenal, anywhere else and Seaman wouldn’t have pulled off that worldie of a save. Too many other moments of what if in football, but you get the point.

== == == == ==

I take absolutely zero credit for the idea behind this save but it’s a challenge I’ve always wanted to do. The idea came from some threads over at the SI forum and on the site I used to be a blogger for before it shut down. Manutd1, the user over on the SI boards, made this his yearly thing and posted long successful stories on the boards and on his site, but he mainly stuck to the European version of the challenge.

Currently TheLutterworthfox is doing this on his own site, but again the European version of it. I am not going to be able to replicate Ian’s (Manutd1) epic tales, I may never even finish it. But I will be giving it a good go and just like my current save, The Journeyman Jock (which is still going) I am going to be adding some narrative to this one.

This thread is about the 'nearly men' of football, as in the runners up of the Champions Leagues and the respective continents national trophy and trying to win the competition they got to the final of and failed to win.

== == == == ==

The CAF Champions League is the African version of our own Champions League, and since the first final in 1965, then known as the African Cup of Champions, changed to it’s current format and name in 1997,  there have been 46 different teams getting to a final, with 20 of them getting there and losing, and not winning it since. This is my story of these 20 unlucky teams. 

At the start of the game (FM24) the following 20 teams have reached the final of the African Champions League and lost:

Africa Sports (1986)

Al-Hilal (1987, 1992)

AS Dragons (Known then as - AS Bilima; 1980, 1985)

Ashanti Gold (1997)

Coton Sport (2008)

CS Sfaxien (2006)

Dynamos (1998)

Enugu Rangers (1975)

Étoile Filante (1968)

Ghazl Al-Mehalla (1974)

Heartland (1988, 2009)

Kaiser Chiefs (2021)

MC Oran (1989)

Nkana Red Devils (1990)

Real Bamako (1966)

SC Villa (1991)

Shooting Stars (1984, 1996)

Simba FC (1972)

Stade Malien (1965)

USM Alger (2015)

Also, there have been 5 nations that have gotten to the African Cup of Nations final, only to fall at that hurdle and have not got back there and won. These are:

Burkina Faso (2013)

Guinea (1976)

Libya (1982)

Mali (1972)

Uganda (1978)

The aim for this save is to win the competition the above teams failed to win. If any of the above teams win the African Champions League or African Cup of Nations by the computer in game they are removed from the challenge. Likewise if any other team, as in not listed above, gets to the final of the Champions League or African Nations cup and fails to win it and hasn't won it previously, they become eligible. I had intended to include the Confederations Cup as well, however that would bring the eligible teams at the start up to 29, and no way I'd manage to get all those in. Also in the unlikely event an African nation gets to the World Cup final and loses, I may add them to the list purely for the World Cup.

There are a couple of rules I must follow though. First is no save scumming. I hate this! When you see people posting or blogging and you know they’ve been save scumming or adding / removing managers. I play FM for realism. Also until I get myself either to a 2.5 star team or my own rep gets to 2.5, the director of football at each club is going to be in charge of player signings. I won’t lie, I don’t know many players currently playing in Africa, so having the game scout players in positions I say we need is probably the best thing to do, realism!

Second is once I have won the Champions League, IF I win it, I must leave that club. No getting attached to my shiny African wonderkids or my ageing free transfers that won it for me, no building a dynasty, I must go. Another rule is I don’t have to stay at the club until I win the Champions League. As a couple of the eligible teams start in the second or even third division of their respective country it could take some time to become a Champions League winning quality team. I can come and go as I please if needed but if I get sacked from an eligible team, they’re not discarded, I must go back and win it with them, unless of course the AI does that in game, then they are removed from the challenge.

Manutd1 tended to sim a few years at the start to get a unique game world, but I’m not doing that. The reason is on FM24 a handful of the eligible teams (Etoile Filante, Simba FC, Ashanti Gold, Africa Sport to name a few) find themselves lower down the leagues at the start, so starting at a low rep team (again, realism innit!) and building both myself and the first club up seems the right way to go to me.

I might get sacked plenty of times before I get anywhere near qualifying for the Champions League, which is a big possibility, but we’ll see. Updates will be at the very least once a week.

With that out of the way, let’s get into it shall we.

== == == == ==

Another shot at redemption - When in Lomé

The story starts in July 2023. The flight finally, after a 3 hour delay, leaves Cape Town airport. The flight itself, a whopping 100 hours all in, via Ethiopia, then Cameroon before finally, mercifully landing at Gnassingbé Eyadéma International Airport. I would have driven it, but felt going through multiple borders, security, hotels, stopovers and what not, that a flight lasting the best part of a week was my best bet. Where is this airport I hear you ask? Well it’s in Togo, the city of Lomé to be precise, which is the country’s capital and most populous city.

Lomé sits on the south coast of Togo, the airport is a short 15 minute drive in the capital city to the Stade Oscar Anthony, our hero’s new home for the foreseeable.

The capital of Togo, a country not really known for it’s football, well apart from Emmanuel Adebayor, but a country with something to prove. Well, the 1 football club on my current list of 20 will have a thing to prove once I get my feet through the door.

When the plane landed there was no entourage, no limo waiting, no fanfare. Nothing. The subsequent taxi ride went from the airport for what seemed an eternity, but by the time it made it's way to the stadium the reality of what was happening started kicking in. ‘Shit’ was all I could think.

‘Huh?’ the taxi driver replied

‘Oh, nothing’ I said before adding ‘actually, remember the name won’t you’ and I got out and walked across the road.

‘I’m doing this, I’m actually going to do this. No one knows who I am, not yet’ was what I said to no one in particular. ‘I’m African, but in Africa I am still a no one, a Billy no mates, I'm not quite a never-was but I am also not a has been, not like the clubs on my list. But somehow I managed to convince the board that I am something else, something Africa doesn’t have and they went and believed me. More fool them eh!’ again, to no one in particular, but I did get a few curious looks from the couple of people standing by the turnstile as I made my way into the reception area of the stadium.

I was finally here, after a long trip, and I’m about to take training at a club that has won it’s fair share of trophies, but is now residing in the 2éme league, the second division. On my notepad I’d jotted down - We’re only going to have 1 objective, and that is to win the Champions League! that I would be putting on a wall in the home dressing room. However, the Champions League is a quite some way away just yet. I’ve got to get this team out of the second division, survive in the top division, improve the playing squad, actually qualify for the Champions League, but then we win it. Simple right.

But that’s the plan, and I’ll be taking one step at a time, I’ve not even met the players of the current squad yet.

‘Name?’ the receptionist asked

‘My name is Jean D’Arre, from Cape Town, South Africa. And I am on a mission’.

== == == == ==

== == == == ==

Étoile Filante du Togo, runners up in the 1968 Champions League final against TP Englebert of DR Congo, now known as TP Mazembe, over 2 legs suffering a 6-4 aggregate defeat, despite winning the second leg at home 4-1. That 5-0 first leg drubbing pretty much winning the final for TP Englebert / Mazembe.

As clubs in demise go, these are pretty much the definition of. As you can see they’ve won the top division in Togo a decent enough 18 times, although the last came way back in 1992. The clubs last proper trophy came in 1994, winning the Togo version of the FA cup. They did manage to win the Togolese Second Division Pool A last year, which is the division and group we’re in this, although the club weren’t promoted, not sure why.

The club finds itself in the 2éme league, which to us English speakers is the second division, aka the Togolese version of the SkyBet Championship. The Stade Oscar Anthony, presumably named after a former player called Oscar Anthony (maybe, possibly?) is in terrible condition, but I’m not concerned, I intend this to be a whistle stop tour of the second division, as me and Etoile Filante rise up the ranks and conquer Togo and the Champions League in record time. 

That may or may not be hyperbole, you be the judge.

== == == == ==

Another shot at redemption - When in Lomé chapter 2

‘Who?’ is a word you could use for both the club and me as their newly appointed first team manager. Despite having no qualifications, no meaningful or relevant ones anyway, to aid my quest in the glory filled world of football management, albeit in a small country in Western Africa, at a small club that hasn’t won anything for quite some time, I’m here to make a start and a difference.

‘What do you mean, no actual players?’ I said to the clubs director of football

‘Well, on the team sheet, as you can see, are a lot of names that are greyed out*’

‘Yes I see that, but where is my playing squad? How am I meant to win the Champions League without a team?’

The short man chuckled like I’d said a questionable joke only a select few people would appreciate, and then made a remark I’m sure he wasn’t expecting to be followed up on ‘well you could always ask those lads out front if they want to play for you?’

I turned to the window and saw a handful of young men, differing in ages all playing football in a park next to the stadium. I walked over, asked them all to come around and said ‘how would you lot like to play for Etoile Filante, on a non contract basis of course?’ They all agreed**

After signing 12 terrible players to a deal, the talk moved to the director of football actually signing some real players to complement the newly acquired ones

‘At least 1 other striker, I can’t rely on any of these to score anything’ I said matter of factly

‘A striker’ he wrote on his notepad and said ‘next?’

‘I must have a couple of central midfielders. These sorry excuses for midfielders can’t control their bladder never mind control the middle of the pitch’

‘2 center mids, got it, next’

‘A captain. I don’t care if he’s a winger, full back, goalie, ticket checker, coach driver, kitchen porter, I just want someone that’s gonna keep the rest in check’

‘Captain….yep, next’

‘A winger, preferably one that can play both sides’

‘Winger, bisexual, got ya, next’

‘No, no, no not playing both sides like that, not that there’s anything wrong with that, other than being greedy, but I mean he can play on the left or right’

‘Oh sorry, got ya’

---------------------------------------------

* There were 12 greyed out players in the first team squad page who are absolutely terrible, you know what I’m referring to.

** All 12 were offered contracts. Those greyed out players are all now full players with faces and personal details, but still absolutely dire.

---------------------------------------------

When that chat ended so did my first day at the club. I had already arranged for the newly un-greyed out players to take part in a game against the still greyed out players of the reserve side for the following morning at 08:00 sharp.

‘If this was anything to go by then the rest of the teams in Group A of 2eme division should be quaking in their boots’ I quipped to clubs assistant manager who just looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but here, and probably didn’t realise I was being sarcastic. 

8-0 to the first team was the end result if you’re wondering.

Unless all the other teams in the prestigious 2eme are using greyed out players, I can expect the team will have to put a bit more effort come the season start though. After warming down and congratulating the boys on a job well done, I had a call from the director of football, and he says he’s signed the players I requested.

‘I didn’t request any specific players, just positions’ I countered, to which he disagrees, although the club do have a healthy number of new players ready to take the Togolese second division by storm, so here they are in all their glory

Idrissou Safianou and Thomas Chimenya will play together at center midfield.

Jonathan Ayite as the new striker. He will partner Abdourazak Koriko up front who was already at the club upon my arrival.

Komlan Gbadago is the clubs new left full back and will be doubling up as captain this season.

Finally through the door is left winger Said Souleymane. The only singing the fans of the club have liked seeing brought in though. The director of football also made a lot of youth player signings throughout the window, as he complements the formally greyed out but now not greyed out players with some more actual players. We’ll be keeping an eye on them as the season unfolds.

== == == == ==

After a whirlwind first couple of days at the club, we had some friendly games in which we completed without much fanfare 

1 thing to note, in the friendly games other than the first game all the teams all had those greyed out players, and Espoir FC and Dyto FC are both in the Togolese top division. Don’t know how or if this will affect us moving forward though..

I had a look into the club, and other than knowing they bottled the 1968 Champions League final, I don’t know much else. The second division as already noted in Togo is split into 2 groups, called groups A & B, very creative. 

The top 2 of each group get promoted to the top division, no play offs just straight up promotion. After taking a look at the league and pretending I know some of the team names, and familiarising myself with the transfer rules I’m ready to get this season underway.

With the transfers in the door, friendly games played and the season about to start, we can take a quick look at this season's Champions League which is in full swing.

The current holders Al-Ahly (also 20/21 & 19/20 winners) of Egypt are nowhere to be seen, knocked out in the first round by South Africa’s Mamelodi Sundowns. Wydad Casablanca (21/22 & 2017 winners) also failed to make the group stage.

I assume that ES Tunis of Tunisia are going to be one of the favourites, along with 5 times in a row South African league winners Mamelodi Sundowns. Hafia FC of Guinea, 2 times winners are probably going to be up there too. We’ll be keeping an eye on the progress of the Champions League, as well as the African Cup of Nations when that starts in January 2024.

For now though we’re just about to get competitive action underway for Etoile Filante, as Union Sportive Koroki Métété (no, me neither) are our first opponents. 

== == == == ==

Another shot at redemption - When in Lomé chapter 3

I’m not confident in my ability to tweak things, not yet anyway. We’d set up with the tried and tested 4-4-2, and it’s worked wonders. 13 games in and 11 wins to boot. I should be satisfied with that, who wouldn’t be? 

However if we look a bit deeper into things it turns out most of the league are using greyed out players, which tells me that they haven’t got a director of football as good as mine to advise them to offer contracts to those nobodies. It also tells me that we’ll have to try harder when we come up against teams with actual players, case in point being the 3-1 loss at home to Arabia FC, not to be confused with, or affiliated in any way to Saudi Arabia. I think.

I’m under no illusions that a win the ball back and hoof it long to the front 2 tactic (a-la Stoke City) is going to work in the top division, or even in the cup against some actual players (see: no greyed out players) but until then we’re sticking with what brought us to the dance.

Rounding out the first 6 months of my career was the fact that with 11 minutes left to play against the aforementioned Arabia FC, we’re losing 2-1 but very much still in the game, and we went all out attack by bringing off Safianou in the middle and sticking young Diallo up top in a bastardised 4-1-2-3 formation . It would’ve paid off I’m telling you, only if Ayite didn't get his ankle broken by the last defender as he burst forward. In any other league in any other part of the world it’s a straight red, the defender is the last man, he’s not just clipped Ayite but knocked him into the nether realm and snapped his ankle in the process, but it was no dice, the ref only waved for a free kick to us with no card, red or otherwise.

As Ayite is stretchered off, we can’t make any more subs so we’re down to 10. The free kick came in from the left but got cleared by the first man and we’re caught on the counter and concede to make it 3-1 to them, game over.

I’m not going to panic, we’ve got young Kodjovi Diallo, (9 games / 6 goals) and Koriko (12 games / 14 goals) still fit and ready to play, but that’s it as forwards go. Ayite's season is over, and he contemplates retirement. I do speak to him but don’t offer any promises on his return as by then he’ll be 39 and next season will be a few months old. We may or may not be in the top division by then as well.

Granted, young Diallo isn’t on par with Ayite, not yet anyway, but he’s done well. He can finish and has a good touch, remember we’re in the doldrums of the football league at the minute so his stats can be considered decent, he never gets tired thanks to a high natural fitness and his off the ball skill is okay. His 6 in 9 appearances aren’t too shabby either, but the director of football, whose name I still haven’t learned, wanted me to take a look at something.

‘Here, see this’ he says and pushes a bunch of papers at me. ‘Look at this page here with Kokou Adjima written on it’ so I did

‘Ignore the red arrows for now’ I was going to mention them, but he continued ‘look at the stats for the reserves league our under 18’s are in’ as he pushed another stack of papers my way. I did as instructed and found the page with the reserves league on

‘Nothing to shout home about, 5th in the league, 20 points off top spot, what’s your point? 

‘My point Jean (he said this in a condescending way, they way you tell your kid something that they should already know, like why they should brush their teeth every day), is that young Kokou has scored 26 goals in 21 games’ he then said this part as if he’d just won the lottery or the Togo version of the Great British Bake off.

‘That is impressive actu….’ he cut me off

‘He’s the answer to our striker problem!’

‘I’m not convinced’ I tried telling him. ‘I’m not sure banging goals in for fun in the under 18’s league is going to mean he’ll score in the proper league’

‘He will trust me’

Adjima was 1 of the many players that the director of football signed when I joined the club, and until Ayite got injured I probably wouldn’t have ever looked at him. But with that I moved Adjima into the first team to play back up to Koriko and Diallo. 

I also note that the teams in the under 18’s division also have all greyed out players. Is this the footballing world in Togo playing tricks on me? Or is Kokou’s record a red herring, much like Koriko and Diallo’s? Time will tell I’m sure.

== == == == ==

Moving on from our own club matters, we can take a look around Africa at some of the other eligible sides. As fate would have it the USM Alger (2015 runner ups, Algerian top division side) chairman sold his stake in the club, and they were taken over by someone named Karel Poborksy, you may have heard of him

This is class really. He’s quite well known and in his day maybe could’ve been classed as a world class player, he was fairly decent mind, but him taking over this team could be huge for them. Before the takeover they were the 10th richest Algerian team, they’re now fourth so I am expecting some progress on the field, and you never know they might win the Champions League in game before I get chance to manage them.

From one end of the alphabet to the other as we go from Algeria to Zambia, and Nkana Red Devils (1990 runners up) sacked their manager after 14 games (13 league and 1 cup), 6 losses, 6 draws and 2 wins.

I won’t be doing anything other than keeping an eye on this. They’re a MTN Super division (top division) team and 2 star rep, and I’m not going to get that job yet anyway.

== == == == ==

As noted earlier, the tactic that has been used until New Year is the tried, tested, loved and loathed ol’ faithful 4-4-2 that’s got us where we are after 6 months. Nothing flash, just 2 banks of 4, with the the wingers and full backs supporting each other going forward and coming back as a unit, the 2 center mids doing their thing while the 2 forwards stay forward. Those green lines give me a sense of accomplishment I won’t lie.

We’ve never had to hold on to a lead really, the draw away we conceded first so stuck to our guns, and the 3-1 loss we were on top for the most part, gave away a cheap goal and then conceded the third after being down to 10 men. I won’t be changing this unless injuries or something else force me to. We do have a second tactic being trained, which is just a defensive 4-4-2, the forwards changed to pressing forwards, everyone else on defend duty.

We find ourselves still progressing in the cup, the third round no less, against another team I’ve never heard of, Tchaoudjo AC.

== == == == ==

As part of the signing of Gbadago I forgot that I promised him we’d develop the center halves at the club, and the 2 from the group of kids I signed on my first day here Moustapha Mawuéna & Djéné Sewonou, have been ever present in the team. Best of a bad bunch is probably how I’d describe them.

They’re improving enough for our captain to be happy though, so we don’t need to worry on that front.

== == == == ==

Finally, we’ve been given mixed signals by our head of youth development regarding the upcoming youth intake. My first as a manager.

I get it, they’re pretty poor players coming through, hence the D and E ratings, however the ratings are comparative to the other players at the club and in the league we’re in, thereby giving us the excellent intake rating of 4.5 stars. We shall see if any of the players come in are any better than the players already at the club, I suspect there will be.

Lastly the board are happy at the minute, long may it continue.

== == == == ==

The rain drizzled down like a half-hearted apology, barely enough to drench the red dust that seemingly clings to everything in Lomé. The old clock tower chimed in the distance, marking the hour with a hollow clang that echoed off the rusting corrugated roofs. I sat alone in a small cafe off the main strip in one of the downtown streets of the country’s capital, the kind of place where the coffee is strong enough to show up on a drug test and the beer comes out cold, cheap and very welcome.

Football brought me here, you already knew that. Or maybe it was me running away from something else, something in South Africa, making me run up here into the Western part of the continent. Either way, I am the manager of a second-rate club in Togo, a place where the only things more unreliable than the power grid are the referees, that God awful tackle on Ayite, ending his season and ultimately his career early still fresh in my mind. I watch with half an interest in the locals going about their business with a lethargy that suggests they knew better than to rush around through this heat. Men in faded shirts and women with baskets balanced on their heads moved like ghosts along the cracked sidewalks. Children, barefoot and carefree, chased a deflated football down the street, laughing like the future wasn’t some distant, elusive thing. I digress.

My title winning players were out there somewhere, probably half-drunk on cheap beer and soon to be nursing the kind of hangovers that never seem to faze certain players come match day. I see an old boy opposite me light a cigarette, the flame flickering against the humidity before he takes a drag, letting the smoke curl up into the oppressive air. He didn’t seem to care that the heat here makes everything stick to your skin, or that the air smelled like helicopter fumes mixed with sweat. I’d been in worse places. The ghettos of Cape Town for one, flashed through my minds eye like a broken reel of film, each one a blur of late-night drug deals, empty promises and fleeting moments of triumph.

Across the street, another old man sat beneath a tattered awning, playing a mournful tune on a battered guitar, singing Simon and Garfunkel’s The Sound of Silence in broken English. His voice, low and gravelly, carried the weight of a thousand lost dreams. I watched him for a while, the music mixing with the distant sounds of honking horns and the murmurs of a city that never really seemed to sleep. Maybe he chose the song to reminisce about lost loves or he just liked the song. Either way, it fit the mood of the area.

There was a woman, too, standing by the corner. She was dressed in bright colours, a sharp contrast to the dull surroundings, and she had that look in her eyes—curiosity mixed with something else, something deeper. She was out of place here, just like me, and for a moment our eyes met. She smiled—a quick, slight knowing smile—and in a blink she was gone, lost in a crowd that swallowed her up like the ocean taking back a forgotten shell.

I downed the last of my beer, the bottle sweating in my hand, and signalled to the waiter for another. Tomorrow was another day, another day to celebrate a season well done, a season full of ups, the occasional down but ultimately one of success.I looked again at my phone and saw what was mine, a title.

2ème division champions

I closed my eyes and replayed many of the moments that secured the title and promotion again in my mind's eye, like that of a compilation you see on Youtube. The task at hand was now simple: survive relegation from the top division. 

It’s kind of like the beginning of the end, I thought. As we’re coming into the top league everyone will be looking at us like an easy win, a simple game where they won’t have to break a sweat. And I’d be telling the boys that we’ll have to fight like hell to stay up, to prove that this wasn’t just a one-time thing, that we weren’t just some flash in the pan.

And maybe, just maybe, that will be enough.

== == == == ==

The sun is beaming down as I walk out the building. In a weird sort of way the sunlight feels like a halo shining on me, the saviour or Ètoile Filante, of Togolese football if you will. Maybe not, not yet at least, not until I get my hands on that sweet Champions League trophy that the club missed out on so many years ago.

The sweet taste of success lingers in my mouth after a decent first season that will live on in my memory, and is something I want, no, we must build upon.

The club has turned semi-pro, meaning we can tie key players down to contracts. Not very good contracts, but contracts nonetheless. We’ve got a handful of decent players that already have vultures lurking over them.

We have a big task in front of us, and decisions to make.  Do we stick with the tactics that got us promoted, or do we shake things up by being more defensive? We’ve got some money to spend, but we’re not going to be doing that unless we absolutely have to.

It’s been quite the opening year.

Just like my arrival at the club, there was no fanfare, no parade down the streets of Lome, no media coverage of us when we lifted the trophy of the 2eme Group A, confirming we’d be going up as champions with 8 games to play. We just did a lap of honor at the stadium, the 100 or so fans giving us a warm reception. This season was immense, an incredible debut season for me, 22 wins from 28 league games and a cup run to boot. And we did it with a youthful side full of nobodies (see: regens created by the game) and old timers that are on their way out of the game.

Aims for the 2024/25 season: Defend for our lives, secure survival in the league.  Continue to build up the squad. With a bit of luck in the draw could a cup run be on the cards?

== == == == ==

With Ayite retiring shortly after getting his ankle broke, I had 2 first team strikers in Koriko and Diallo, both scoring regularly. I didn’t think we’d be signing any forwards in the transfer window, as we have the young Adjima playing back up.

In the January window we did sign a center half, Remlee Pascal which the fans weren’t sure of at first

I’m not sure what they don’t see, as when he came in he became the best center half at the club and it’s not even close. Not only that but I named him vice captain too. He turned out to be a solid signing and I’m sure he’ll do well in the top division when we get going.

THE KEY PLAYERS

As for the other stand outs in our promotion season, Koriko managed an impressive 28 goals in 29 games!

His strike partner Diallo got an equally impressive 18 in 18! 3 of those coming in the cup.

Left winger Souleymane got himself 11 goals and a league high 16 assists in 29 matches.

As noted previously the teams in the second division all use greyed out players for the most part, Arabia FC doing the double over us although we did the same to them, and Anges De Notsè also beating us being the exception to that.  Anges also got promoted so we’ll be playing them again next season

We made it to the quarters of the Togolese cup, battling hard but eventually going down 4-6 to Espoir FC, a team we’re going up against in the top division next season who finished a resepcatble third in the end. Can’t moan at this, we gave them a good go but ultimately the difference in quality saw them through

Other thing of note, the youth intake was okay. As noted already the player ratings / potential stars are based on the players currently at the club and the league we’re in, so are those 3 ‘elite’ talents we’ve got coming any better than the players here already? But would they be able to hang in the top division? That’s going to be found out next season.

Towodjo will be playing back up to Moussa in net next season. I’m keeping Moussa around and maybe he sits out cup games, as I am not going into a relegation fight with a 16 year old in net.

Asare is the player the coaches are buzzing about. Is he better than Balouki at right full back? Debatable, he’s not as quick and his tackling isn’t as good as Balouki yet, but do I think he’ll do a job next season? Absolutely.

Korodowou on the other hand, I don’t see it. Decent metals for a 16 year old, no pace and doesn’t do much on the ball. He might get a shot in the first team but I won’t be getting him in there unless I need to.

== == == == ==

The Nearly Men of Africa challenge overview

CAF Champions League 2023/24

Pyramids FC of Egypt took this years Champions League crown. The 2 legged final ended 3-3 on aggregate so it took penalties for the Egyptians to win the tie. The other finalists, CR Belouizdad (more on them shortly), the current Algerian champions become an eligible side after losing their first final.

I knew at the semi final stage there would be a new eligible team added to the crop of 20 as all 4 semi finalists had never won the Champions League before, therefore 1 of them would be runners up and becoming a nearly men team.

Pyramids didn’t lose a game at all in their Champions League campaign and deservedly won it.

Other eligible club news:

Without going into too much detail, I won’t do that for every end of season anyway and only point out things I feel need to be shown, the only things of note regarding the other eligible teams are: 

Africa Sports of The Ivory Coast are still in the second division as they missed out on promotion

Ashanti Gold of Ghana are also still in division 2 there.

Ghazl Al-Mehalla of Egyptwere promoted from the second division, just like me and Ètoile Fialnte they went up as champions

Nkana Red Devils of Zambia managed to stay up after changing managers mid way though the season.

Shooting Stars of Nigeria were relegated on the last day of the season, losing at home. They would’ve stayed up as Sunshine Stars also lost and had a worse goal difference.

USM Alger finished 6th in the Algerian league after their takeover. Chabab Riadhi de Bélouizdad won the league for the fifth time in a row and will compete in next seasons Champions League as a nearly men tam after losing in this years final.

The African Cup of Nations was held this year, and we see no change to the eligible nations. Senegal didn’t win it back to back as they lost to Algeria in the final.

== == == == ==

Another shot at redemption - When in Lomé season 2

The office smelled like old, battered leather and cheap watered down cologne, the kind that lingers in the air long after the bottle’s gone dry. I sat nursing a lukewarm cup of coffee, that’s a bit rich actually. It was a cup of coffee flavoured tar like liquid from a vending machine in the reception area, the kind that could strip paint.

I was down an assistant manager, thanks to a late night phone call that involved words like opportunity and once in a lifetime. It’s funny to me how those words never seemed to come around when you needed them the most. The clock on the wall ticked away, each second louder than the last, as if it knew I had a decision to make and was getting impatient with my lack of action.

There was one guy’s résumé that stood out, mostly because it was so basic, much like my own CV. Name, check. Nationality, check. Previous clubs, none. Qualifications, also none. I’ll touch on the other part shortly, but basically there was no fluff, no blatant lie, just the facts. It belonged to a guy named Koffi. 

I glanced at my watch, wondering if Koffi is the punctual type. If he was, he had about three minutes to make his grand entrance. If he wasn’t, well, that would be one mark against him. I’d seen it all before - guys who waltzed in late, flashing big grins and bigger egos, thinking they could smooth talk their way into a job. I’d love to send a few of those type packing, once I make my own up the footballing ladder of course.

A sharp knock on the door pulled me out of my thoughts. Right on time. “Come in,” I said, leaning back in my chair, trying to look more confident than I felt. The door creaked open, and a man walked in like he owned the place, or at least had a serious investment in the club he was applying to be assistant manager of.

He didn’t just sit down; he touched down in the chair, a smooth, practiced motion that suggested he’d been rehearsing for this moment since he was six years old. As he crossed one leg over the other, he leaned back just enough as if to say he was quite comfortable, but not so much that it looked lazy. It was a delicate balance, like a lion casually lounging but ready to pounce if needed.

He didn’t bring a copy of his résumé; he said he didn’t need one, not because I had a copy already but because his presence was résumé enough. I liked that line, and I told myself I’d be using it once I move on to another club on my list. He came across as the kind of guy who walked into a room and I suddenly felt like I needed to justify my own qualifications. And I imagined as he started talking, I would probably think that maybe I should be the one interviewing for him, not the other way around. I liked him instantly.

He leant across the table extending his hand and as I took it he simply said ‘Koffi’. I smiled and replied ‘Jean, but you already knew that’ trying to sound as cool as he looks’. ‘Yes’ was his reply with a short nod.

I noticed the firm grip off his hand shake, the kind of grip that tells you this guy means business. Or that he’s been working out just a little too much. ‘Take a seat’ I said, gesturing to the chair across from me.

He sat down, smoothing out his trousers in a way that suggested he cared more about wrinkles than most people cared about their next meal. He didn’t say anything else, just looked at me with those dark eyes that seemed to size up the entire room in a single glance, seemingly waiting for me to start talking, to take control of the interview. It was like sitting across from a cat that had just spotted a mouse but wasn’t quite hungry yet.

‘So’ I started, trying to fill the silence that was quickly becoming uncomfortable, ‘your résumé’s a bit… short. Anything else I should know about you?’

Koffi shrugged, a small, almost imperceptible movement. ‘Nope, not yet’

‘Right’ I said, tapping my fingers on the desk, waiting for him to elaborate. He didn’t. ‘You’ve been in the game a while?’

‘Long enough’

‘You’ve got a plan for how you’d help me take this club forward?’

‘Yep’ he said with another slight nod

Another silence, this one even more awkward than the last. I was starting to feel like I was pulling teeth here. This guy wasn’t just quiet, he was practically a mime. The kind of guy who’d make a librarian look chatty, which confused me as to look at him you’d think he was the life and soul of the party with a booming voice you’d hear over a jet engine.

I leaned forward, scowling, deciding to take a different approach. ‘You’re not much of a talker, are you?’

‘Not unless I need to be’

There it was, the bite from the bait I just laid. Short, sharp, and to the point. I had to admit, it was refreshing in a way. I’ve heard that most people in interviews tend not to shut up, like they want to keep talking to make a point of knowing what they’re talking about or to fill the silence with enough words without saying much that would get them the job.

‘Well, that’s one way to handle it I guess’ I said, letting a hint of a smile tug at the corner of my mouth. ‘But you’re going to need to speak up if you’re on the touchline with me. These lads I’ve got here, some are young and need direction, and they won’t hear you whispering from the dugout’

He didn’t even blink. ‘I’ll make sure they hear me’

I had to chuckle at that. There was something almost comical about the way he delivered every word like it was a done deal. But then again, maybe that’s what I needed - a guy who didn’t waste time with fancy speeches or half-baked ideas. A guy who just got on with the tasks I give him. I liked him even more by this point.

‘Alright' I said, finally giving in. ‘You’re hired. I’ve got plans for this club, as well as some other….’ he raised a hand and cut me off, not what I was expecting at all

‘The list’ he said

I froze for a split second, and thought exactly, the list, but didn’t say it out loud. Instead I let the shock be on show by saying ‘how do you know about the list?’

‘Just do, it’s a good list. My team are on it’

Assuming as he’s Ivorian and the team he was referring to,I said ‘Africa Sports?’

‘Yep’

‘Soon’ is all I could say.

He nodded, standing up as if that was the most obvious conclusion in the world ‘of course’

As he turned to leave, I couldn’t help but call after him looking for reassurance. ‘Koffi, you’re taking the job on, right?’

He paused at the door, glancing back over his shoulder with that same unreadable expression ‘Yeah, sure’

And with that, he was gone, leaving me alone with the ticking clock, the sound of the incoming rain against the window, and the nagging suspicion that I’d just hired either the best assistant manager I’d ever have, or the weirdest. Possibly both..

I leaned back in my chair, the faintest hint of a smile on my lips. This season was going to be all about surviving relegation, and it would definitely be a rollercoaster. But with Koffi on board I was sure we had as good a chance as anyone else in our position.

== == == == == 

He's got everything I want in an assistant, he loves the ol’ 4-4-2, outswinging far post corners, defending for our lives from set plays and is very disciplined. 

Following Koffi in the door is a player I’d clocked last season while he was at Sara, is Prince Ametokodo. He managed a very good 19 goals and 11 assists for Sara 

We also recruited at central midfield in the form of Joseph Amoah to give us a bit more quality in the middle. My worry is we’ll be over run in midfield, so having Amoah and Prince there will be just what we need.

Leaving us is 1 of the first players I signed, Sewonou, who might be a big miss, however we brought in Kodjo Ehon who is a better all round player

Rounding out this update is my own profile heading into season 2, and confirmation of what the board want, which is an attacking counter attacking entertaining team. Not sure how I'll manage to play attacking counter attacking football, but we'll see. 

We're at home to Gomido FC in the season opener, and I'm expecting a decent effort despite the odds being slightly against us here.

== == == == ==

Last thing of note, any new players I sign that don't have a picture, I will be giving them 1 with the Newgan face pack. Unless the regens face for any I use is atrocious, I'll be leaving the game to generate those. Just wanted to point that out.

I'm the worst at what I do best

It was coming to the end of December, and the city of Lomé was tired, I could feel it in the concrete under my shoes. I could feel the way the rain fell harder than it usually does. The season, my first in the illustrious 1ére was only 10 weeks old, but for a manager like me that’s always on the move and never sitting still, it felt like twelve rounds in the ring with a prizefighter, the kind that never stays down.

I found solace in the familiar, the worn leather of the armchair in the office, the comforting hum of the television that never seems to be turned off, playing news reports and abysmal daytime shows in a mixture of French and English as I replayed the games in my mind, searching for some answers. But there were none to be found. This team was a puzzle that I just couldn't solve, a machine that wasn’t broken but something else beyond repair.

This is a team of contradictions, a footballing enigma. One week, we can dismantle a team like a surgeon dismantles an organ, with precision and without fault. The next we can  stumble and bungle, our play a chaotic mess of simple errors and missed chances.

They’re like a Jekyll and Hyde, going from a formidable force to a hapless bunch with alarming regularity. Me and Koffi, my wonderful, all knowing and strict assistant manager are left bewildered at times, my loyalties are torn between keeping faith with my trusted players, the ones that got us promoted, and chopping and changing things as and when Koffi recommends. We butt heads at times over this.

Some players I’m sure blame me and my tactics, others blame Koffi for wanting to try new things, but the truth is neither myself, Koffi or the players themselves can figure it out.

This is a team that lives on the edge and drives me insane. A squad that thrives on the on field drama and uncertainty. Our matches so far, 12 in all, have all been a rollercoaster ride, a constant battle between brilliance and mediocrity. And while the inconsistency leaves us all frustrated and disappointed, it also makes us fascinating, a team that keeps everyone, ourselves included, guessing.

As I leaned back in the chair again, the soft flicker of the overhead light casting long shadows on the peeling walls of my dingy office. The smell of stale coffee and disappointment hung in the air, as thick as the winter fog on the streets of Lomé. Four wins out of twelve. Not good. Not nearly good enough. The silver lining being that the 5 teams below us in the league have been worse than us, just. We do have a win over ASKO De Kara in the cup, to shorten our already very large odds in the competition

We started with a bang to what I thought would be letting everyone know we’re not messing around or here to make up the numbers, that first game of the season a resounding 3-0 win over Gomido

That opening day win felt more like a fluke than a victory, but you take what you get in this line of work. The handful of fans this club gets roared loud and proud and for a brief, fleeting moment, all was well in the world of Etoile Filante. But football is a cruel mistress, and she didn’t wait long to remind me of that.

The next 4 games were a blur of missed chances and sloppy defending. The backline last season was a fortress, impenetrable and unyielding. These lads were a wall of muscle and determination, a unit that snuffed out attacks with ruthless efficiency. They were the iron curtain, a barrier that no opponent could breach. But in those 4 games they couldn’t keep a cold out, never mind an opposing striker, and every goal felt like a knife twisting in my gut. 10 conceded in those 4 games. Then came another win. Diallo, Koriko and Adjima securing a 4-0 win over Semassi, which set us up for a back to back with ASKO De Kara.

A draw and a win over Kara, followed by our biggest win yet, 6-0 at home to Ifodje and another 2 losses takes us to December.

Four wins in twelve. Not bad, some would say. But we know better. The club and the fans don’t care how hard you work, how much you sweat, or how late you stay up dissecting game replays. They care about results.

Koffi said the most obvious thing while addressing the players as we break for a couple of weeks, ‘we need consistency’. Consistency, the dirtiest word in the game.

I had a feeling there was an issue when the chairman kept poking his nose in and out of meetings we’d been having at the stadium. I noticed him in a trance one morning, staring at the trophy cabinet in the hallway, a stark reminder that this club was once one of glory, the 18 top division titles being a testament to that.

He locked eyes with me that morning during a routine staff meeting, and he cleared his throat, his voice a rasp against the silence. ‘Gentlemen’ he began, his gaze sweeping across the room, ‘the time has come to make a difficult decision. The club, as we know it, will no longer be mine’ A murmur rippled through the room, the shock palpable. "I have decided to sell." The words hung in the air, a potential death knell for me, Koffi and the rest of the staff.

The media was circling like vultures once Claude Gbele, the chairman broke the news to the local media. I could feel their eyes, wanting, waiting for someone to stumble or reveal some information they already didn’t know. But I just kept quiet, as did Koffi and the rest of the staff. The players, fickle though some can be, also kept their mouths shut. They were probably only looking out for themselves, biding their time until they could jump ship or turn their backs and use the takeover as the excuse.

I was also worried for my own future at the club. One of the reported interested parties had declared they’ll be bringing in a new manager if they complete a takeover, and they were the frontrunners too

My position wasn’t looking good. 4 wins from 12 doesn’t set the tone for a season of hope does it. There is some pride in me to turn up and continue on, possibly stubbornness is the right word. But Etoile are on my list, THE list, and if my time was coming to an end, they’d have to be put on the TBC shelf, to be completed, along with 20 other teams.

I was called into the outgoing chairman's office the day the takeover was completed, it was bathed in the cold, harsh light of the fluorescent lamps, a stark contrast to the warmth of the areas outside the stadium and pitches where I spend most of my time. The new owner, a figure shrouded in mystery, sat across from Claude, his gaze fixed on me with an intensity that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention. ‘Jean, your work here has not gone unnoticed’ were the first words the new man said to me, his voice low and deliberate. ‘I believe in your ability to lead this club back to its former glory’ 

A glimmer of hope ignited in my chest. This might not be too bad after all. I didn’t want to say something stupid, so I nodded, smiled and waited for him to continue, which luckily he did after a not too long silence ‘We are offering you a new contract, a chance to continue your work here’ Relief washed over me in an instant, a sweet victory in the face of uncertainty.

The transfer budget has been increased significantly. As has the wage budget following the takeover, much to my surprise.

It’s not mega money, but 13k a week on wages and a 44k transfer kitty is nothing to laugh at in Togo. Koffi assures me we can improve the squad significantly with that kind of money, and if we don’t get any transfers completed right away, the new owner has also promised improvements to the youth set up.

I’m not expecting anything huge in that regard, but we’ve got 1 of the poorest set ups in all of Togo, so any improvement in the academy area, even just to the food they serve, is welcomed.

I signed my new contract, a 1 year extension, that morning and got back to work with a renewed sense of determination. I told the players we might make signings, but that won’t take away from the fact that we’ve got a great chance now to progress by finishing strong in the second half of the season.

== == == == ==

One out, one in

I’d had a rough feeling most of the day. Granted, it’s the back end of January, the weathers a poor unforgiving demon with icy breath that stings the cheeks and freezes the skin. The wind howled in a desperate sort of way letting you know how cold it is.

The night had settled in like a black fog, the kind that clung to the city streets and had you talking to yourself, telling yourself bad news is on the way, which it was. I was alone as I walked into the stadium, the Stade Oscar Anthony, our home ground. The clock on the wall, which is always 3 minutes fast, ticked louder than it should’ve done, or at least it seemed that way to me.

I sat down and saw Koffi in the office. He was staring at a half-empty glass of scotch, in a daze which seemed to have been for at least an hour, waiting for something to click, for some problem or issue to stop gnawing at him. But football has a way of keeping a man restless, even in the dead of night.

Then he snapped out of his trance as I sat opposite him. The phone was ringing but I let it buzz a few times while smiling at Koffi. The smile wasn’t returned. As the phone finally after 8 or 9 rings stopped, Koffi locked eyes with me

‘I’m glad you’re here and sat down’ he said in a sad sort of way

‘What’s up with you?’ I said, not waiting for a reply ‘your face looks like the back end of a bus, who died?

He paused before saying anything, just long enough for me to be worried. I don’t like pauses, or to be kept waiting, not this late at night, in January, in the freezing cold of a country not known for it’s coldness.

‘Adnane. He’s gone’ Koffi finally blurted out, the words a punch in the gut.

I sighed a long depressing sigh and let the weight of his words settle. Adnane Balouki, my first choice right back, a player we signed at the start of last season, and a reliable hand in a defence that won 22 of 28 league games, losing 4. The guy could tackle and had pace to burn and a mean steak that kept the wingers last season second guessing themselves. He’s an all round nice guy too. I’d banked on him being the starting right full back all season, he’s played in each of the 12 games we’ve had. 

‘Gone where?’ I asked calmly, but it was the kind of calm before a storm, I was raving inside.

‘Métété’ Koffi began but I cut him off  ‘that lot we beat three times and drew with last season?’

He just nodded then said ‘the agent’s pulled some strings, you know how it goes’ I did, unfortunately. He continued ‘I didn’t see it coming, not this quick anyway’

And now he was leaving, Of course it was the agents, it always is, even in Togo where the players, most of them anyway, are all on contracts that pay an appearance fee, not a fixed wage. I wanted to smash something, a lamp, the desk phone that started ringing again, anything. But anger would get me nowhere, I was down a reliable right full back and just like that he’s leaving for US Koroki Métété, the team we thumped 6-1 in our opening game last season and who are still in the second division.

‘Right’ was all I could say as I stared out the window. The streetlights I’d noticed were flickering, casting long shadows on the street, the shadows on the concrete matched the shadows forming in my mind. I needed to fix this, and fast. I’ve got no other natural right full backs in the team. Couple of decent center halves, a couple of left backs in the team, no right back. Football in of itself doesn’t wait for teams to catch their breath, or catch a break it seems. 

Just as I was about to say we’ll need to look for a replacement, Koffi’s voice broke the silence with a different tone than before, something more closer to optimism

‘Listen Jean. I had a feeling this would happen’

‘How?’ I was curious how he knew.

‘The same way I know about your list, I just did’ I didn’t say anything more so let him continue on ‘I’d been working on something today. I’ve got us a replacement lined up, ready made’

I raised an eyebrow, he had piqued my interest ‘a ready made replacement? This isn’t one of your stupid jokes is it?’

‘Yeah, I mean no, it’s not a joke. I know a guy’

‘Ivorian?’

With a a shake of the head  ‘Nah, Toméan, he’s decent’

I didn’t know what Toméan meant, whether it was a region, a country or a nickname for a group of people, so I quizzed him on this replacement for Balouki

‘

The guy I know, he’s an agent’ Great, another agent I thought. Koffi went on ‘The guy he’s found for us, he's from abroad, played in São Tomé all his career’

‘São Tomé?’

‘Yeah, tiny little country south of here. I bet you could swim there actually’

São Tomé and Príncipe is the country’s full name. I got my phone out and had a look. Koffi wasn’t wrong either, the island is tiny. My concern was how good could any player be from a country that small, and one I’d never heard of?

‘The guy’s name is Ivanaldo. He’s his country’s first choice at right back. He’s hard nosed, aggressive and quick on the turn. You’ll like him. He's not as laid back and outgoing as Adnane, but he’s hungry and will be a good fit here. I’m confident with him’

I gripped the bridge of my nose, squinted while I  swallowed and let Koffi’s words sink in, rolling them around my mind like a puzzle I didn’t have the answer to. I thought, what choice do I have? Koffi has this knack of coming through at the last, and most usually the best possible second, like a striker that gets on to the end of a through ball when no one else is looking. I thought it may not be the outcome I wanted, a right back just chucked on us, but it was something, and something is better than nothing, usually.

‘You spoke to this Ivan?

‘Not in person, I rang him earlier’

‘And he’s willing to discuss a move?

‘No, we did that already. I’ve got the papers ready for him to sign when he gets here. The deal can be done by the time everyone else gets here for the morning meeting’

I leaned back in the chair and stared at the ceiling. The last bits of steam from my coffee floating up in the air like a question mark. Ivanaldo. Never heard of him, certainly never seen him play. But this is football, and football didn’t wait for any manager to find the perfect fit and at the perfect time. Sometimes you took the pieces you were given, put them in your team and hope they fit, or at the very least didn’t break.

‘Do it’ I told Koffi. Not in that Ben Stiller / David Starsky way of saying it though I did say it in a heavy sort of way, but feeling the relief come off me knowing we’d at least be signing someone that could come in right away. ‘Bring him in, but if he doesn’t fit, or it doesn’t work out…..’ I didn’t finish that sentence, I didn't need to. Koffi knew what he was doing. I hoped.

He got up, nodded, and left me alone in the office with my thoughts. Balouki was gone, just another name on another list of players that walk out on one club and joined another. Ivanaldo was on his way in, and hopefully this is a solution to a problem that’s arisen in a season already full of them.

I poured myself a glass of the scotch Koffi left, and the scotch much like my thoughts were swirling around the glass. Tomorrow would bring another challenge, another set of preparations for the first game after the break.

== == == == ==

The low-down offer

I’d been called into the new chairman's office, the smoke from his fat Cuban curling up in the dim light of his office, the biggest of the 3 at the stadium. I could see the dim lights of downtown Lomé in the window behind his desk, but his eyes were fixed on some sheets of paper in front of him laid on the desk.

He sat behind his new mahogany desk and then clutched both pieces of paper, his steely glare locked on to me as I sat down. The tension in the air was obvious, I didn’t know whether to stay quiet or say something

Kossi Azaleka, the boss, made the decision to speak first ‘care to explain these?’ he said, thrusting the papers toward me. Before I had chance see what was on them, he snatched them back and stood up before saying ‘loyalty in any walk of life is a rare commodity’ he began and turned to look at me ‘but in football it is even rarer, do you agree?’

I absolutely did, and I thought of Adnane Balouki who had joined a team in the second division not too long ago as a recent example, but thought better of mentioning that, as I didn’t know what the boss was getting at so I just nodded.

‘You’ve been speaking to other clubs I take it?’ that came across more of a statement than a question ‘even after we gave you a new deal when I bought the club’ again, a statement not a question, or at least one not requiring an answer as he continued ‘flashing their money at you sniffing around. There’s no smoke without fire as I’m sure you know’

I stood up, kept my hands in my pockets and went to the window, why, I don’t know it just felt like the right thing to do, show that I’m not concerned with this meeting. ‘I don’t know what you're talking about’ I said as I looked out towards the airport of Lomé

‘I get it, it’s just business. But I kept you on here when I’m sure a lot, if not all other chairmen, certainly in this God awful league, maybe even the world over would’ve dropped you like a bad habit and had a complete restart. I stood by you despite some rough form. If it wasn’t for Koffi I would’ve….’

‘What are you talking about? I’m not fucking leaving! If you’ve spoke to Koffi as you say then he would’ve told you about the list I’ve got and ……’ he cut me off

‘A list? Oh right a list of clubs that are coming in for you, offering you the chance to earn more money than I’m paying you’

‘Stop, just stop. Yes I do have a list, it’s a list of clubs I want to, actually have to manage’ he tried cutting me off but I put a hand up ‘let me finish. It started out as a list of 20, now 21 clubs that I’m on a mission to manage and complete’

‘Complete how?’

‘Look, all you need to know is, wait, who is it you think I’ve been speaking to?

He passed back the 2 sheets of paper. The first I saw had a letterhead of the Togo flag and underneath the words AC Semassi underneath. I looked at the second, and on the heading was Gomido FC

I had to laugh a little bit at this. Both teams were in the relegation zone and struggling, worse than us to be fair. Not only that, but we’d snatched a 4-3 victory away at Gomido, with an equaliser in the 87th before Ehon scored a thumping header from a corner in the 92nd to give us all 3 points in the second game back after the break. And drew 1-1 away at Semassi in a game we dominated but just couldn't score more than 1 of the many chances we had. 2 points dropped there certainly.

‘Look, I’ll level with you right now. You don’t need to worry. These 2 teams, no matter what they paid me I wouldn't leave here for. Not unless by some miracle they become eligible would I consider leaving and trust me, they’re not going to be put on the list for a long time, if ever’

He slammed his fist on the desk before saying ‘I don’t believe you. Why would they want permission to speak to you if they didn’t already have an idea you’d be willing to speak to them? Just like how we can speak to a players agent before we discuss a new deal huh?’

‘What do you want me to say? I’ve said I’m not leaving, not yet anyway, and if…’ he cut me off

‘Oh, not YET! So when are you thinking of leaving’

I sighed, a long drawn out sigh, the kind a child does when they’re not getting what they want. ‘Look, this is a complete waste of both our times and….’

‘When are you leaving?’

‘I didn’t want you to know this, but I will only leave this club if I get sacked, or I get offered a job at another eligible club or I…’ I waited, I really didn’t want him to get his hopes up to an unobtainable high

‘Say it’

‘Or I win the Champions League’ There, I said it. Your move mister chairman.

He leant back into his chair with a look of confusion on his face. ’How long?’

‘For what?’

‘You win the Champions League. You must have given yourself some sort of timescale?’

‘I haven’t as it happens’ I took a breath ‘I’m taking it as it comes. This time 3 months ago I had a different boss who was happy just to leave me to it and barely spoke to me. With you you’re more on hands on, and I like that. Plus you’ve loosened the purse strings so come the end of this season I can go out there and build a squad capable of winning something’

He nodded and said ‘okay then. I believe you’re not interested in speaking to those teams and I will respond accordingly. For now lets wrap this up, I believe in you Jean I really do, and if it takes you 2 years, 5 or 10, to win the Champions League, I’ll support you as best as I can’

After saying that he said he was happy with the progress we've made after the winter break. In the 8 games back, we’ve won 3, drawn 3 and lost 2. We’re still in the FA Cup too, in the semi final no less, against Binah FC. 

== == == == ==

Triumph

I walked in and the locker room was silent, except for the slow drip of water from a leaky pipe in the corner. I’ve told the chairman about that fucking pipe a million times! Anyway the steam still clung to the air, mixing with the scent of sweat, adrenaline and something else, something electric. The kind of tension that only comes after a war fought and won. I stood there in the middle of the dressing room, sweat dripping from my own forehead as my eyes scanned the room.

The players all sat i their allocated spaces, mud and sweat on their persons, faces flushed from the match we’d just had and the from the effort they all put in. Some were taking it in, some cooling down, some still buzzing from the adrenaline, young Diallo especially was sat looking he was vibrating in his seat. A few of the older heads, Kodjo Ehon and his center half partner Ramlee Pascal, our captain and fearless leader looking a bit worse for wear having come off with 10 minutes to go with a twisted ankle, both had their faces down trying to process what we’d just done. Reaching the cup final, it wasn’t something that came easy, especially a club like ours.

I grabbed a bottle of water from the cooling box by the door, just as the door closed and Koffi was fashionably late back from the pitch. ‘Not bad boys. Not bad at all’ I said as I took a sip of the water. A couple of the players glanced up, smiles creeping across their faces. I glanced back towards Pascal and Ehon, our 2 towering center halves both looked up as well, waiting for me to say more before they spoke, as they always did. But tonight was different.

‘Getting to any final in any competition doesn't’ happen by chance’ I said and continued with ‘You all fought hard for every inch, every tackle and every loose ball. No one has given us a damn thin, you took it, you earned it’

I let my comments hang for a moment, then said ‘But do not get comfortable or content with just getting to the final boys. You all know how football works, the minute you think you’ve made it, that’s when it all slips away. I hate using cliches, but this is all part of a process, and you’re all playing your part’ Another pause, letting the words sink in ‘We’re just about safe from relegation, and the cup final is the last hurdle for this season. Is the final going to be the hardest hurdle? I don’t know, but it’s coming for us. By the time you’ve prepared for it, it’s going to be upon us'

I didn’t see it at first but I could’ve sworn I saw a flicker of doubt, just a small hint, across some faces. Nothing too concerning, yet, but the weight of what I’d said sinking in now making waves through the changing room.

‘But tonight’ I added purposely softening my voice ‘tonight you’ve done some special. So take a moment now, enjoy it, savor it and celebrate tonight. I don’t want to see you for 3 days so make the most of it. But remember, this isn’t the end yet. We’ve got 3 league games left, plus the final. The real fight’s around the corner in 3 games time, the next time we walk out in this competition it’s for the cup’

I threw the now empty water bottle towards the metal bin near the door, it dropped in silently as a couple of the players got up and started dancing and their celebrations began. I looked at Koffi who winked back at me. I turned back towards them all, most now joining in the celebrations and said ‘you’ve done well. Damn well, all of you’ and I headed out.

I heard the players making noise and enjoying a job well done. The next 3 days was theirs to enjoy, mine would be spent strategising with Koffi and the other staff, as we have 3 games to go in the league before the cup final, and 1 more win, depending on other results, should be enough to secure our league survival.

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