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Let's hope for a big win to keep the promotion challenge going

The rain fell like a slow dirge over Wrocław as Scott Lańkowski was sitting in his cramped office. The dim light of the small lamp on the desk danced across crumpled papers and faded scout reports. Right now the weight of the season that has just finished pressed on him like a leaden coat, but his thoughts wandered back to a bitter chapter. Polonia Bytom.

He’d saved the from the abyss, fought tooth and nail, scraping, clawing and scratching their way from relegation despite the eight point deduction they’d been hit with. Yet Jaukb Snochowski, the chairman, the cold and calculating figure who’d unceremoniously told Scott where the door was, had let him go. He’ll remember the sneer from Jakub and the look in his eyes as he brushed off Scotts achievements like it was yesterdays news. Now after the final game of the season and seeing that Bytom had been relegated without a points deduction, a flicker of satisfaction had warmed in Scotts chest. But that wasn’t enough was it. Satisfaction is a counterfeit currency, the true redemption lay in proving that his success at Ślęza this season isn’t merely an echo of his past. Two teams he’d managed, both expected to go down. Both times he’d survived certain relegation.

Scott’s mind churned with a restless hunger for more. It wasn’t just the fire to avenge the wrongs of Bytom or the silent promise that one day he’d outshine the long shadow cast by his father, Piotr Lańkowski. Old man Lańkowski, a revered scout for the Polish national team as well as head scout for Toronto FC he’d always been the benchmark. ‘Don’t just be my son’ he’d said to Scott not longer after taking the Ślęza job, as if the weight of that legacy was a shackle around his neck. But now, every decision, every tactical change and every point gained or lost was a silent, defiant answer.

Across the room Scotts assistant manager Peter Bastista walked in and sat down. He’d brought some folders and emptied them onto the desk and shuffled some papers absentmindedly, unaware of the storm currently brewing in Scotts mind. They’d celebrated a successful season at Ślęza Wrocław, a top five finish when at the start of the season a bottom four finish was predicted. Yet the taste of triumph was tainted by an unmistakeable feeling that Scott, and Peter by association, still had something to prove. Something that wasn’t measured in points or dreams of promotion. It was a battle for identity, a fight to assert that he was more than just a guy that had rescued two clubs in his own unique and gritty way.

Scotts fingers drummed on the surface of the old desk as he recalled Jakubs dismissive tone, and the bitter promise he’d made to himself that day. The thought of that betrayal stung, a jagged sharp tooth still lodged in his memory. Now as he looked out of the rain streaked window at the city he now calls home, there was a flicker of doubt.

Beneath the anger and the drive the doubt crept in. Was it enough to prove his worth, to silence the echo of his fathers influence and his first employers scorn? He didn’t know, all he knew was that every training session, every hard fought match was another step toward defining himself on his own terms.

In the low murmur of the office his inner voice roiled like a restless sea. He needed to be more than a saviour, he needed to be a visionary. The thrill of saving teams from relegation was fleeting, but the real challenge lay in carving out his own legacy, one that wouldn’t be measured by the scars of that first betrayal, but by the bold moves of the man unafraid to walk his own path.

He leaned back, nodded to Peter, closed his eyes and let the quiet resolve creep in. The night dark was coming in and the streets beyond whispered of endless possibilities. Soon the new season would start up, and with it, the chance to show everyone, especially himself, that Scott Lańkowski was more than a footnote or only known as a one trick pony.

He would rise, again and again, until the world recognised that he wasn’t just Piotr Lańkowski junior. Scott would be a man forged in the grit and grind of the beautiful game, ready to claim his own place in the cold ledger of football

World Cup 2018

The 2018 World Cup in Russia delivered everything you’d expect from the biggest competition in football, thrilling upsets, penalty shootouts and a country claiming yet another title, as Brazil made it six World Cups with the 2018 crown. The tournament also saw several big antions fall earlier than expected leading to some managerial changes in the aftermath.

Englands hope of ending their long wait for a World Cup came crashing down in the round of 16. After an unsurprising group stage in which they hung on for a 1-0 win against hosts Russia in the tournament opener, than stuttered 1-1 against the USA and then sealed their place in the next round with an unconvinving 1-0 win over Ghana,they faced Uruguay, where a disciplined performance from the South Americans saw them edge past England. A late goal from Edinson Cavani sent the Three Lions on their way.
 

One of the biggest upsets of the 2018 World Cup also came in the round of 16 when Colombia eliminated defending champions Germany, on penalties no less. After a tense battle Germany were leading 2-1 in extra time before conceding when Falcao headed in at the far post with seconds left on the clock, to send the game to penalties. Falcao stepped up and scored the decisive penalty to send Germany packing. The shock defeat also ended the reign of Joachim Löw’s reign as Germany manager.
 

The fairytale wa short lived for Colombia as Spain showed Germany how to do it as a hat trick from Diego Costa sent the South Americans home. Spain had looked like genuine contenders all the way through the tournament, winning every game right up until the final.
 

The biggest surprise of the tournament was undoubtedly Costa Rica. They defied all the odds and produced on of the biggest shocks in footballing history when they beat France 2-0 in the round of 16. This was then followed up with another victory over Mexico in an end to end game which they edged 3-2. Even against Brazil in the semi final they never looked out of place. Going down 2-1 to the eventual winners they equalised in the second half and never looked flustered. The fairytale run of Costa Rica ended but everyone associated with them can hold their heads high after an amazing run to the semi final.
 

Brazil had a solid tournament from start to finish, navigating their way past tough opposition before eventually lifting the trophy. The beat Spain 2-0 in the final to seal the sixth World Cup title.

As is often the case after a World Cup, several high profile managers paid the price for underwhelming performances. Gareth Southgate was the first to leave his position, confirming he stepped down shortly after the loss to Uruguay. Didier Deschamps was next to leave, getting sacked after that shocking loss to Costa Rica. Joachim Löw was dismissed after falling to Costa Rica. Julen Lopetegui was kept on by Spain after getting to the final.
 

Following that there was a managerial merry-Go-Round featuring these nations and club teams. The managers leaving after the World Cup had a knock on effect sparking a wave of high profile appointments.

Arsène Wenger left Arsenal after 22 years to become the new France manager, taking over from Didier Deschamps. Joachim Löw swapped international football for club management, replacing Wenger at Arsenal. Jürgen Klopp returned to Germany, taking over at Bayer Leverkusen. Roger Schmidt had left Leverkusen to become Germany’s new manager, tasked with rebuilding the national team. 
 

And finally Claude Puel left Southampton to take charge of England, in a surprising appointment. No, no one else knows why either. 

– – – – --

Summer 2018 transfer news
 

The summer transfer window has already been a wild one in anticipation of the new footballing calendar, with teams in Saudi Arabia and China throwing money around, Bayern Munich flexing their financial muscle and relegated clubs undergoing dramatic overhauls. The first big transfers of the summer came from Saudi clubs, as the Middle East continues to lead the charge

Al-Hilal made the first stupid move of the summer, as Luuk De Jong swapped PSV Eindhoven for Saudi Arabia for €29 million. This was followed up with the signings of Roberto Rosales from Málaga (€12M), Emmanuel Mas from Trabzonspor (€9M), Marcelo Díaz from Celta Vigo (€8M) and  Stefano Sturaro from Juventus (€13M)

Al-Ahli weren’t holding back either, as they spent €35 million in total to bring in Roman Zobnin, Jens Toornstra and Maicon.

China's money train rolled as Giovanni Moreno left Shanghai Greenland for Quanjian for €12M and Wellington Nem left Shakhtar for Jiangsu Guoxin-Sainty for €24M.

UAE clubs joined the party as Lekhwiya SC signed Dante from Nice for €5M and Cheick Tioté also signed from Beijing Beikong €6M. Not huge fees but big wages are being offered to join clubs in the UAE.

Bayern strengthened with some of the Bundesliga’s best players. Carlo Ancellotti managed to tempt RB Leipzig into selling Timo Werner for €38 million, Leon Goretzka from Schalke for €36 million and Djibril Sidibé joins from Monaco for €42 million. Bernd Leno swaps Bundesliga teams as he leaves Leverkusen for Dortmund for €34 million.

The biggest transfer of the summer saw Koke leave Atletico Madrid for Premier League champions Manchester City for €96 million. Atletico seem determined to be the Manchester based teams feeder club, as the Koke deal follows last summer's sale of Griezmann to Manchester United.

Some big transfers from the Premier League as expected. Wonderkid Malang Sarr leaves Nice for Southampton for €35 million, a huge fee for the Saints to pay. Iñaki Williams leaves Athletic Bilbao to join Marcelino at Liverpool for €22 million. Thomas Lemar leaves French champions Monaco for Chelsea for €58 million. Danilo leaves Bayern Munich to sign for Man United for €31 million. Son Heung-Min leaves Rafa Benitez at Spurs to sign for his former team Newcastle in a €22 million deal, he is the Toons marquee signing of the summer.

The off again on again takeover of Newcastle United continues to dominate the local news in the North East, however that doesn’t stop owner Mike Ashley convincing Gus Hiddink to sign a contract extension for 2 more years. The rumor is he will have a better chance of selling the club with a big name as the first team manager.

In Italy AC Milan sanctioned the sale of Donnarumma to PSG for €45 million, all of which is pure profit for the goalkeeper that rose through the Milan ranks. 

Monaco look set to dominate Ligue 1 and the Champions League, as they sign Alvaro Morata from Real Madrid for €38 million. Another interesting transfer sees Lyon sign none other than Karim Benzema on loan for the season from Real Madrid. With Andrea Belotti scoring 37 goals last season for Real, Benzema was cast off and deemed surplus to requirements, only playing 11 times. A nostalgic return to his old club on loan is sure to relight the fire in the world class forward.

The fallout from relegation saw Everton and West Ham pretty much rebuild their first teams. The exodus from Everton saw Bolasie, Schneiderlin, Deulofeu, Galloway, Baines, Fernandez, Cleverley, Mori, Lennon, McGeady, Calvert-Lewin, Williams, Barkley, McCarthy, and Davies all leave, bringing in a total of €99 million. Aitor Karanka, sacked early on in the season by Middlesbrough is tasked with the rebuild and only invests €26 million back into the team. There are rumors of money troubles at the Merseyside based club. The big news from Goodison is that they somehow, despite interest from PSG, both Manchesters, Chelsea, Inter Milan and Napoli, managed to keep hold of Romelu Lukaku who is expected to score at least a goal a game in the second tier. Whether they can keep hold of him in the January transfer window remains to be seen.

West Ham in contrast shipped out the underperforming Antonio, Dos Santos, Reid, Garcia, Burke, Valencia, Otavio, Snodgrass, Masuaku, Pask, Fernandes to bring in €81 million. 

Niko Kovac, who took over form Slaven Billic spent €45 million of that on Begovic, Ladeira, Giraudo, Kent, Wisdom, Armstrong, and Murphy. He managed to convince Noble, Cresswell, Oxford, Kouyaté, Shelvey, Ayew, and Lanzini to remain at the club.

-- -- -- -- --

Football news summer 2018

The end of the 2017 / 18 Premier League season delivered some twists and turns that nobody could have predicted. Heading into the final fixture Chelsea look certain to win it, sitting in first place on 81 points, with second placed Manchester City 2 points behind on 79. City’s only path to back to back titles was a mirror image of last season. Last season they needed to win their game whilst a team from London (Arsenal last season, Chelsea this) needed to lose. The decisive matches saw Chelsea host Southampton at Stamford Bridge whilst Manchester City hosted an Everton side looking to avoid relegation.

Everton in 17th place had 30 points, the same as 18th placed Middlesbrough. All Everton needed to do was math the ‘Boro result. Hull would be hosting Middlesbrough. However these things are much easier said than done.

At the Bridge Chelsea struggled to break down the rigid Southampton defence. Claude Puel set up the Saints to play with a flat back 5 which stopped most of Chelseas attack. Southamtpon caught Chelsea on the break more than once and Charlie Austin tucked home early in the second half to give the Saints a credible 1-0 away win.

In stark contrast, at the Etihad Manchester City delivered a masterclass, thrashing Everton 4-0 to leapfrog Chelsea into first place and claiming the Premier League title for a second year running. In an unexpected turn Arsenal managed to sneak into second place on goal difference to end as runners up for the second year running. Adding to the surprises this season was Newcastle United who defied expectaionts. Coming off winning the Champiosnhip last season they finished an impressive fifth place ending the season under Gus Hiddink (after Rafa Benitez left for Spurs) and winning the FA Cup. Liverpool found themselves in unfamiliar waters as they finished eighth.

That 4-0 defeat for Everton effectively sent them down, as Middlesbrough secured their own safety by beating Hull 3-0. Everton join already relegated Derby County and West Ham in the drop.

Looking ahead the relegated trio of Everton, Derby and West Ham will be replaced with Championship winners Wolverhampton Wanderers and runners up Brighton and Hove Albion. Ipswich Town also secured their return to the Premier League by beating Cardiff in the play offs.

In Spain and La Liga Barcelona continued their dominant stranglehold on the league by amassing 103 points for the second season running. This win makes it 4 in a row for Luis Enriques men. Real Madrid finished second on 92 points. Their cross city rivals Athletico finish third on 81 and Villarreal, Sevilla and Valenica round out the top six.

In the Bundesliga, the race for the crown was as dramatic as ever. Bayern Munich emerged as champions, but only by a slim margin, with only three points sepertaing them from runners up Bayer Leverkusen. The remainder of the top six featured a mix of emerging and established sides RB Leipzig, Borussia Dortmund, Schalke and Koln.

In Italy Antonio Conte had an instant impact as he guided Juventus to the Serie A title in his first season, wresting the title away from last season winners Inter Milan. Napoli were runners up with Roma in third place. Both Milan sides (AC and Inter) ended up tied on 65 points occupying fifth and sixth, with AC being given fifth place due to a slightly better goal difference.

In France Monaco continued with their resurgence as they secured a second successive Ligue 1 crown. They finished on 95 points, edging out the mega bucks of PSG who finished on 91. Lyon, Marsielle, Caen and Nantes round out the top six. On the individual front in one of the feel good stories of the season, Jack Colback earned himself a spot in the team of the year. On a season long loan from Newcastle, he featured in every game (38 in the league, 3 in the cup) scoring 3 goals and providing 5 assists. This along with posting a very respectable average rating of 7.91.

In Monaco they signed Dusan Vlahovic who made a significant impace after signing in January transfer window. He netted 13 goals in just 17 appearances, providing a crucial factor in the title win for Monaco.

In Portugal an old name made the headlines. Federico Macheda, of Man Unted fame once upon a time, led the scoring charts by netting 18 league goals. His efforts were pivotal in propelling Sprtiong Lisbon to their first league title in 17 seasons. As per tradition, Benfica and Porto round out the top three with Braga, as usual, occupying fourth place.

– – – – --

Chapter 21

Scott Lańkowski stood in the locker room, arms folded and scanning the determined faces of his players. Two games left of his maiden season as Ślęza Wrocław manager, the first was away at the recently crowned champions Raków Częstochowa.

This game was a fight for redemption following the home loss to Scotts former team Polonia Bytom. It ended in a 1-1 draw despite Ślęza taking the lead through Aleks Kwiek. The promotion charge was still on, if unlikely. 

Ślęza had dropped to sixth with one game to play. 52 points. The scenario to get promoted was ridiculous. A long shot, the kind that never comes off. Ślęza had to win. Not just that, but Blekitni, Olimpia Grudziądz, and Widzew Łódź all had to lose for Ślęza to get promoted. The one game Ślęza had was against Olimpia Zambrów

Scott laid it out plain and simple ‘promotion was never on the cards, and now, with one last battle to go it’s not in our hands any more’ voice low and firm ‘we win today and all we can do is see what happens in the other games. No regrets, no half measures, no wishing we’d done more’

He looked around the room, Radler, the veteran lacing them up for the very last time as a player. Koftas, the young forward who had come on leaps and bounds. Ngamayama and Latka, two solid players that needed to put the Bytom game behind them.

‘Everything considered this season has been a miracle’ Scott continued ‘we were supposed to be in Zambrów’s place, clawing for survival. Instead we’re in the mix for promotion and I’m so proud of you all. And if this is our last game before we break for the summer, lets make sure we go out the right way'

Silence, but it was accompanied with determined nods.

It was time. The final game was here.

Olimpia Zambrów needed this just as much as Ślęza. They were fighting to stay in the league opposite Ślęza’s fighting to get promoted out of it.

The opening minutes of the game were a glorified street fight, hard tackles, scrappy passes and no rhythm to the game other than solid physicality. A team trying to survive versus a team chasing the impossible.

Then, young forward Olejniczak, playing up top alongside Koftas in place of the injured Antokiwak struck first. A ball over the top from Kluzek, the defender watching the man not the ball misjudged the bounce and Olejniczak, keeping his nerve cooly slotted it past the keeper. 1-0. 

Scott clenched a fist. The dream was alive.

But Zambrów weren’t done. They pressed and pushed for an equaliser which didn’t come by the time half time came around. In the second half the tension rose from both sides, but it was Wojiciech Mroz that calmed Ślęza down. Another long ball found it’s mark and Mroz calmly guided the ball into the net. 2-0 and cruising.

Zambrów refused to die and kept pushing and fighting for an opening which eventually they got. Young striker Feliks drive and low shot found it’s way past Gessl in the Ślęza goal to give the home team some hope.

It would be for nought as Ślęza held on for a 2-1 victory.

The players celebrated but Scott and Peter Bastista held back, eyes locked on Marcin Lachowski who was looking at his phone. Waiting. Hoping. Then the shake of Lachowski’s head told them what they were waiting for.

Blekitni won. Olimpia Grudziądz won. Widzew Łódź won.

Ślęza finished fifth.

Scott stood in the locker room, hands on his hips. Fifth place had to be considered a hell of a season.

But still, just a little short. He turned to his team, taking them all in. Some looked disappointed, some exhausted, some just proud. He started by saying ‘we did everything we could today, nobody, not you or me, expected us to be here today. Nobody gave us a chance, and yet we almost pulled off the impossible’

He let that sink in.’Hold your heads high, this isn’t the end, trust me. This is just the beginning’

And as he stepped outside, breathing in the night air, he couldn’t help but smile.

Because he knew, next season, Ślęza Wrocław wouldn’t just be a surprise anymore. 

They’d be contenders.

– – – – --

It's good this, I've been keeping up on your Wordpress. Keep it up.

Chapter 20

Scott Lańkowski stood on the touchline, eyes locked on the battlefield before him. Ślęza Wrocław. Polonia Bytom. Third versus seventeenth. Current versus former employers. A win for one meant a step closer to promotion. A win for the other meant one step closer to survival.

The stakes dripped like rain from the clouds above. From the first whistle it was war, just like in the reverse fixture earlier in the season.

Tackles flew in in like a bar brawl nobody wanted to break up. Studs raked against shin pads, shoulders crashed into ribs and elbows met jaws. Every time the whistle blew another body was picking itself up from the hard frozen turf. The ref had his yellow card and seemed reluctant to use it. The first few challenges he let go, but couldn’t bring himself to let the game flow. There was more stoppages than shots on goal in the first half.

Scott watched his current and previous team fight for every inch, Mroz against his old team battling in the middle, Koftas lurking for scraps up front with Ngamayama and Latka trying to hold the fort at the back. But something felt off.

Bytom, backs against the wall all season had played like a team with nothing to lose. Ślęza looked sharper, better and the more likely to score, but the goal wouldn’t come.

At the half Scott walked into the dressing room and closed the door behind him. The players were there already, sweaty, battered, bruised, breathing hard and still in the game

‘We’ve got forty five minutes to put this to bed’ Scott said, voice measured but tight with frustration. He looked at the group and said ‘keep playing like this and we will find that goal. Keep the ball on the ground, keep it moving and move it quick. Don’t force it, let the ball do the hard work and for the love of everything watch for them on the counter’

They nodded. They knew.

As the game kicked off for the second half it unraveled faster than Scott, or anyone associated with Ślęza could believe.

Ślęza had lost possession a couple of times since the restart, but in the fiftyfirst minute it was Mroz, usually composed on the ball that lost it in the middle. Bytom moved fast, and before anyone could close him down on the edge of the box Krakowczyk unleashed a rocket. Gessl dived and stretched, but not enough as the ball kissed the inside of the post as it went in. 1-0 to Bytom.

Scott shook his head. Fine, one goal, we can come back. But fate had other plans.

Four minutes later Ngamayama squared upto the man he was marking Mackowksi, who was fast and slippery. Too fast, and too slippery for the Ślęza man. One fient to the left as Ngamayama tried to show him on to his right, and the Bytom forward was gone. Ngamayama flailed, slipped and Mackowski cut inside and buried it low past Gessl. 2-0 to Bytom

Then came the hammer blow. Sixty three minutes on the clock. Latka misjudged the long ball over the top, got caught with the bounce and fluffed the clearance. It fell to Ceglarz as he pounced on the loose ball like a street thief. One touch to settle, another to calmly slot it past Gessl in the Ślęza goal. 3-0 to Bytom.

Silence. Stunned silence from the Ślęza fans. Scott turned away from the pitch running his hand over his face. Disaster. The fight was gone, the game was done. A late goal from a corner meant the game ended 3-1 to Bytom, but the goal meant nothing. Even before the whistle blew Scott was marching down the tunnel to the home dressing room.

The door slammed so hard it rattle on its hinges. The players sat in tense silence, exhausted and ashamed. They didn’t need a speech from the boss to know they’d let this one slip away. And Scott wasn’t the kind of manager to throw things across the room, he didn’t need to, his words hit harder than any flying bottle of water could.

‘What the hell was that?!’ his voice cut through the air like a blade. No one spoke.

Scott turned, eyes blazing and pointed at Latka ‘that third goal? That’s on you. You had one job there, clear the fucking ball! And you bottled it’

Latka shook his head, and as he tried to speak Scott held a hand up and said ‘don’t, just don’t I expect much better from you’

Then Scott turned to Ngamayama ‘and you, you call that defending? That kid made you look like an amatuer, you didn’t even try and stop him’

Ngamayama didn’t respond, he knew it wouldn’t do any good. Scott shook his head again, hands on his hips. He was furious, but more than that he was disappointed

‘We had a chance to put this season in our hands and you threw it away’ he glared at the, ‘I don’t care if Bytom are fighting for their lives, we should’ve buried them, we should've btoken them, we should’ve given them the loss that sent them down’

More silence, heavy suffocating silence. Then Scott sighed and said ‘it won’t kill our season, but if we play like that again in the next two games we’re not getting promoted’ and he turned to leave, but as he got to the door he stopped and said ‘sort yourselves out’

One loss wasn’t the end of the promotion challenge, not yet. There are two games to go and they can still get third and automatic promotion, but it would be tough. They’d need to win both games and hope the other teams above them drop points.

Scott wouldn’t let this slip, not after everything they’d built so far.

– – – – --

Chapter 19

Blazej Radler had asked Scott for some time earlier in the day. Scott had known this conversation would be coming before long, he’d seen the signs.

The Sleza captain now in his third season at the club had seen it all. The old warhorse is 35 pushing 36 and had been in countless battles over the years as a player, and this season was no different. This last season he’d given everything to the badge, but as Scott suspected, the time had come.

‘Boss, I think I’m done’ Radlers voice came steady but clearly carrying the decision ‘June 18th is when I’ll officially hang my boots up’

Scott nodded and said he’d seen this coming, much to Radlers relief. The captain's legs still moved, but not like they used to. Experience can only carry you so far when your body starts to betray you

‘You’ve been a rock for this team, not just for me this season but the last couple of years you've been here’ Scott started then said ‘and you’ve earned a happy retirement, but…’ Scott said as Radler said ‘but what, Scott?

‘But, as you know Pete and Marcin came with me from Bytom, they were my most trusted players, they would walk through fire for me if I asked. My dad once said he gets the best results working with people he trusts, so with that said, how would you feel about staying? I’m still bitter about Manolov leaving, and I could’ve done with a firm voice from the youth team at that time, so how about if I kept you on as a coach for the youth team, the under 18’s?

Radler blinked, shock evident on his face ‘you’d trust me with the kids?’

Scott smiled ‘absolutely. You’ve trained with them already, they know you’re the club captain and look up to you anyway, so we might as well make it official’

Radler nodded and said ‘yeah, okay. I’d like that’

The handshake was firm like two men sealing a pact. One chapter closed, another opened. He’d officially start his new role at the end of the season, but Scott had him working with the youth team right away.

A day later Sleza would host Olimpia Grudziądz, who are riding high in third place, one above Sleza. Nobody thought either of these teams would be in the top half yet alone pushing for promotion, but here they both were.

Olimpia Grudziądz boasted the most prolific striker in the league. His 21 goals are what helped them to third place. That striker is Mateusz Broz, the same striker Scott had signed last season while in Bytom, and a reason they survived relegation. As with the other players at Bytom, Broz was allowed to leave due to mounting money worries.

Scott had made a point to himself to meet Broz in the tunnel before kick off, and when they met he held out a hand which Broz took with a smile

‘Scott, didn’t expect to see you up this end of the league’ he said with a laugh

‘Nah neither did we’ Scott replied, also with a chuckle

‘Hell of a job you’re doing here, just like last season’

‘You too Matty, you’re on fire’

Broz was all business then as he said ‘don’t try and flatter me, I’m still here to score and do a job today’

Which he did, late on in the game. Too late for Scotts liking. Sleza had held a comfortable 3-1 lead heading into the last four minutes and were cruising. Until Broz had slotted a long range shot in the 87th minute, setting five minutes worth of added time of pure hell in the form of long looping balls into the Sleza box. They held on for a 3-2 win but it was anything but close

Scott exhaled at the final whistle as the players jogged off, knowing they dodged a bullet. Exhausted, but victorious. The unlikely promotion was still on. The table has shifted and Sleza and Olimipa have swapped places with three games left to go. Sleza now in third on 51 points and promotion wasn’t just an impossible dream, it was a real possibility.

Scott exhaled at the final whistle as the players jogged off, knowing they dodged a bullet. Exhausted, but victorious. The unlikely promotion was still on. The table has shifted and Sleza and Olimipa have swapped places with three games left to go. Sleza now in third on 51 points and promotion wasn’t just an impossible dream, it was a real possibility.

And up next? Polonia Bytom at home. Scott didn’t have much to say in the dressing room before the game. The players felt it. The weight of the match, the blossoming rivalry between the teams, the stakes.

Koftas laced his boots, muttering to himself, young eyes full of fire and burning with focus.

Latka, taking the captain's armband in place of Radler, was stretching in the corner with Mroz as they were discussing the game.

Jakobczyk, Siodowy, Gessl and the others turned as Radler, not in the squad but still club captain, stood up and asked for attention. He spoke, voice deep and steady cutting through the tension ‘we’ve come this far’ he started ‘we weren’t meant to be where we find ourselves. But here we are. This club was meant to be at the bottom of the table trying to stay in the division, yet we’ve got a hell of a chance of getting out of it at the other end’

Scott watched, arms crossed. He didn’t need to add anything. They were ready. Bytom were coming to Wroclaw, attempting to stay in the league.

Sleza was waiting.

– – – – --

Chapter 18

Scott Lańkowski was sitting down on the touchline at the training ground when he’d got the text. He stared at the phone like it was a bad hand in a rigged poker game. Dawid Molski. 7 weeks minimum. Strained knee ligaments. He shook his head again and exhaled, not for the first time this morning and ran his hand over his forehead. Seven weeks wasn’t classed as a long term injury but it wasn’t nothing either. Molski had played in every game so far, rotating at right full back with Siodowy at times but being mostly used on the right wing. He was a machine too, fast, fearless and never gave up. The other players fed on that energy, and now he was out, and the team slightly weaker for it.

Peter Bastista walked over and sat down on the bench next to Scott and said ‘bad luck’ shaking his head as well

Scott let out a small chuckle and said ‘bad luck would be a cold shower in the Polish winter before training. This is just a bloody curse!’ the winter break had ended and football had come back to Sleza with a vengeance.

The first game saw Sleza extend their unbeaten run, stretching back from beating Scotts old team Polonia Bytom through the break. Radomiak Radom away ended in a 0-0 draw. It was the kind of match that felt like trudging through wet cement blindfolded. No spark, no magic no excitement from either team, just cold winds and tired legs. The draw flattered both teams really and the point gained they both had to pretend was worth something.

Then Polonia Warsaw came to Wroclaw. They scored an early goal to silence the Sleza fans but that didn’t stop Scotts team from trying. They knocked, punched, pounded and battered the Warsaw door but couldn’t find a way through. Chance after chance came, each one either going wide, over or right at the keeper. None ever good enough to go into the net.

Scott had sat in the dugout after the game, jaw clenched so tight it was on the verge of crackinfg. He hated games like that, the kind where you know your team deserved something, you were the better team but the footballing gods weren’t in the mood to be fair.

The response came in emphatic fashion. Blekitni at home and they didn’t know what hit him. Sleza played like a team that remembered what winning felt like, and looked like a top half team pushing for promotion. The final score of 6-2 was well earned. The main talking point was the hat trick from Wojciech Mroz, one of the players Scott relied on last year and one of his summer singings this season. Mroz is your typical defensive midfielder who’s main job is to break up attacks, not finish them. 

Riding high from scoring six in the previous game the team carried that confidence into the next game. A 3-0 away win at Rybnik in which the team looked sharp and dangerous throughout. But football can be cruel, and sometimes it made no damn sense.

Stal Rzeszow away, they were humbled 3-0. The kind of match where the ball never bounces your way, where the opponent played like a pack of wolves and your team are the meat.

And now this. Scott wasn’t done processing the injury to Molski when Marcin Lachowski joined Scott and Peter. He wore the look of a man who had more bad news than he wanted to deliver. Scott didn’t even give him the chance to break the news ‘who’s hurt this time?

Marcin sighed ‘Sobczak’

‘How bad’ was Scotts reply

‘Three months. Optimistically’

Scott swore under his breath. That was the season, three months or so left. No sense keeping him around when he won’t play again ‘terminate the loan, I’ll go speak to him’

Marcin nodded and said ‘already in motion, I’ve told Slask about it’

Not expecting that to be the last of the bad news Scott said ‘is that it?

Marcin hesitated, which told Scott he already knew the answer ‘who else?

‘Antkowiak’ Marcin said ‘four weeks if we’re lucky’

Scott just closed his eyes. Antkowiak had been in and out of the team due to injury, but he’d done well when he’d played and had managed 6 goals and 3 assists in 18 appearances. 

‘Of course. One of the three forwards is out, again’ he let out a dry sigh and said ‘anything else? Maybe a meteor heading for the training? He said with a laugh

Peter smirked and said ‘well if there is it’ll probably land on Koftas and Jakobczyk leaving us with no fit forwards’

Scott had to laigh at that. He knew the score, this was football afterall. One moment you’re flying high, the next you’re crawling on the floor. You didn’t get to complain, you just dealt with it. He got up and said ‘it is what it is, we move on’

Marcin and Peter both nodded and followed him into the changing rooms.

The season wasn’t going to wait for them.

– – – – --

Chapter 17

The winter air in Wroclaw had bit, the kind that crept under you clothes and sitteled in tour bones. Inside the office the radiator rattled like an old drunk telling people stories they didn’t want to hear.

Scott was sat behind his desk, arms cross with eyes flickering between Peter Bastista and Marcin Lachowski. There was holes to fill. Manolov, the young aggressive upstart, was gone whether Scott liked it or not. With him leaving they needed cover at left full back. And between the sticks? Sobczak, on loan from Śląsk had been doing okay, but he’s got a mistake a game in him at his young age, and he’s been injured, meaning the team had been scrambling and using and even more untested youth player for two games.

Marcin, the professional pragmatist, tapped a folder on the desk ‘Aaron Kircher. Austrian. Solid, experienced, knows his role. More importantly, he’s fine playing second fiddle to Latka’

Scott picked up the folder, flipping through the pages. Kircher was nothing flashy, certainly not the fire cracker Manolov is, but he’s a steady hand and reliable. He’s a man that knew he wouldn’t be starting every week and wouldn’t throw a tantrum about it

Scott then said ‘he’s not Ivan’

Peter smirked ‘that’s a good thing’

Scott and Peter continuingly disagreed on the sale of Manaolov. The young full back is a live wire, Scott adamant that his passion just needed channeling, Peter saying it would cost them big. Even as a full back Manolov could be a game changer one game, but then a red card waiting to happen the next. Sleza didn’t need that, not now.

‘And the keeper?’ Scott sid putting Kirchers file to the side

Marcin slid another folder across the desk ‘Seb Gessl, young, another Austrian, also available on a free. He’s hungry, determined and ready to fight for his place in the team’

Scott drummed his finges on the wood. He liked it, both signings made sense and Marcin and the scout had managed to find both players relatively quickly.

‘What’s the catch?’ Scott asked

‘No catch, boss. Just good business’ Marcin replied

Scott nodded. The winter break was almost over and the remaining fourteen games of the season would start up again, third in the table and punching above their weight. Staying there meant making the right moves, not rolling the dice

He looked at Peter, nodded, then to Marcin and said ‘Agreed, get them both done’

Marcin smiled, stood up and took his phone out as he left the room

‘I hope they like the cold’ Peter said

Scott smiled and looked out the window, watching as the last dregs of daylight bled into the skyline. The cold was the least of their worries.

– – – – --

Chapter 16

Scott had just got home when his phone started vibrating, an unknown caller. He was sceptiacal about answering unknown numbers, but he answered anyway

‘Scott, my name is Krzysztof Holub, I’m sure you know who I am’

For a single moment the world outside faded. The low hum of the radiator, the distant sound of cars on the road and slow dripping rain, all of it melted into the background. Krzysztof Holub. The chairman of Śląsk Wrocław. The club Scott had love for as long as he can remember.

His heart kicked up a beat, was this it? Was this the call? The call he’d dreamed about for a long time.

He’d been doing well at Ślęza. Overachieving all things considered. Third in the league at the winter break, with a team built on smart signings and shrewd loaned in players. He’d beaten expectations, just like he had in Bytom last season. Maybe someone at Śląsk had noticed. Maybe they were looking for fresh blood.

His hand was steady as he held the phone to his ear, gut twisting with something between excitement and nerves.

Krzysztof’s voice came again, smooth and professional ‘hows life down the road at Ślęza?’

Scott clezred his throat, trying to play it cool and calm ‘you know, can’t complain much, we’re doing okay’

‘You are that is true. Been keeping an eye on your progress, impressive stuff I must say’

Scott felt his pulse quicken. Here it comes, this is it!

Then Krzysztof continued ‘I wanted to talk to you about Adrian Łyszczarz’

Scott blinked ‘Łyszczarz?’

‘Yes, he needs games, minutes on the pitch, and we think you would be a good fit for him. A short term loan until the end of the season’

Scott felt something in him deflate, just a little. He kept his face blank even though Krzysztof  couldn’t see him. Of course it wasn’t a job offer, it was a favour.

Scott let out a slow breath rubbing his temple. ‘Look, I appreciate the call, I really do, but I’ve got my midfield sorted. Mańkowski has come in and been solid, Kluzek is delivering and the teams settled. I can’t promise Łyszczarz any game time that he needs’

Krzysztof was silent a moment, then said ‘you sure? He’s a talent Scott, gonna really be something’

Scott chuckled, just a hint of bitterness in there ‘I don't doubt that, but talent doesn’t do much if it’s sitting on my bench’

Krzysztof then said ‘I get it, just thought I’d ask’

Scott didn't know what else to say so just said ‘okay, thanks, I appreciate it, listen if anything changes you’ll be the first to know’

Krzysztof chuckled and said ‘I’ll hold you to that’

The call ended there and Scott stood and stared at his phone for a long moment before putting it down. For a few brief seconds he’d let himself dream, the chance to manage Śląsk Wroclaw. 

But reality had a way of reminding you exactly where you stood. Maybe someday, but that day was not today.

-- -- -- -- --

Chapter 15

Scott Lańkowski was sat back in his office, fingers tapping the table, deep in concentration. A storm was brewing outside, fat drops of rain tapping against the window, but inside a real storm sat across from him, his assistant, and most trusted confidant Peter Bastista.

Peter leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his expression tight. ‘Scotty, we both know the player Manolov is, he’s a firecracker with a short fuse. Seven yellows, two reds, in eleven games. ELEVEN! How many more before he costs us something we can’t afford?’

Scott sighed rubbing his temple, he knew the numbers, he knew the risk was part of the job. You can’t just throw a diamond away because it’s cut your finger. ‘I know, I hear you Pete, I really do’ Scott said, voice even, unsure maybe ‘but the kids got something. He’s in the first team and does well at…’

Peter cut him off ‘when his head is in the game, yes he does, but he’s not…’ Scotts turn to cut Peter off

‘Don’t do that, you know I hate it. He’s got a lot of good things going for him, he’s quick, determined and he’s fearless and never gives up. All we need to do is channel that energy, we need to get him to channel that fire and passion instead of burning himself with it, he could become a top player’

‘Or a walking suspension’ Peter said

Scott just sighed and shook his head and looked down at the bid on the screen of his laptop. Henning Berg, Premier League winner and current Videoton FC manager and reigning Hungarian league winners. A real club, a big one, a real offer. They clearly saw what Scott saw, and they weren’t the only ones.

Marcin Lachowski, the director of football, had knocked on his door an hour ago, a smirk on his face and his phone in his hand. Jagiellonia Białystok and Cracovia Krakow had joined the race. All three clubs had tabled offers north of €42,000, all of it will be pure profit.

Peter broke the silence by saying ‘if we sell him now, we reinvest the money. Kamil has said all funds raised we keep and we get someone reliable, someone who won’t get sent off for trying to break an opponents ankles who looked at Manolov funny when we’re clinging onto a lead again’ he was referring to the red card Manolov had got against Olimpia Zambrow where Sleza had been leading 1-0 with twelve minutes to go. They hung on and won the game, just.

Scott clenched his jaw. Peter had a point, but something about it didn’t sit right. He’d given Manolov his start, like Jakub had given Scott his start. Scott had put a lot of faith in Manolov this season, and selling the youth player seemed easy, too easy.

‘You ever played alongside someone that you just knew was gonna be special Pete?’

Without batting an eyelid Peter replied ‘I know players who would get you sacked’

Scott smirked ‘yeah, so do I’ he leaned back and said ‘but I also know players who win you games. Ivan, he could go either way, and if we sell him now we’ll never find out which’

Peter shook his head, frustration flashing in his eyes ‘and if we keep him and he costs us points this season, what does he cost us next, promotion?’

Scott didn’t answer right away. He just stared at the rain streaking the glass, thinking. Was he holding on too tight? Was he seeing something that wasn’t even there to be seen? Was Peter playing it too safe? The Hungarian champs obviously see something, as do the two top division Polish teams. The tension sat heavy between them, with neither wanting to be the first to budge.

But finally, it was Scott who buckled and said ‘we’ve got three bids and one decision to make. It’s not about the money is it, we’re getting a decent chunk of pure profit, it’s what the best move for him is’

‘Irrelevant. We accept all three, and it’s upto him and his agent’ Peter said before adding ‘it’s the right call Scott’

Scott just thought, was it? Manolov is raw, reckless, but he had something. Something that can’t be coached, only tamed. Scott could see the fire in Manolovs eye every time he laced his boots up even just in training. You don’t find that in every player. But fire burns and Manolov had already left some scars in the form of seven yellows and two reds.
 

Marcin Lachowski came into the room, calm and composed as always ‘Jagiellonia, Cracovia, Videoton. All offering over fortytwo thousand. That’s good business for a kid we didn’t pay a penny for’

Scott frowned ‘and then what? We cash out and pray we find another one like him?’

‘We don’t need another like him, we need another left back that’s isn’t a liability’ Peter said

Marcin nodded ‘we take the money and find someone solid. I’ll get the scouts out looking before Manolov has even said his goodbyes’

Scott sighed, his gut told him to keep hold of the kid, to gamble on the potential. But his gut wasn’t what kept a team together. His gut wasn’t what stopped a reckless lunger from turning three points into zero. After a long moment he said ‘fine, accept all three bids. I don’t think he’s ready for top division football yet, but that’s not our concern is it’

Marcin nodded and said ‘I’ll make the calls’

Scott just hoped he’d made the right decision to accept the bids.

The next day as he arrived at the training ground, Marcin approached Scott and said ‘it’s done. The kids agreed the deal with Henning Berg in Hungary. Forty two thousand in full, no clauses all up front’

Scott didn’t say anything at first, just let the words settle. Forty two thousand. On paper it was a good deal, a great deal even for a team in the third division. Selling an unpolished kid for that kind of money in this league most teams would bite your hand off for it. 

Scott said to Marcin ‘did he seem, I don’t know, nervous, hesitant in any way?

‘Hard to tell’ Marcin started ‘it was the agent that did most of the talking. Didn’t seem too upset that he was leaving us’

Scott just laughed. Agents, as always.

Ivan Manolov didn’t seem the sentimental type. He played the game the same way he trained, reckless, full throttle and no brakes. Maybe Hungary was the right move for him, maybe it wans’t, but it wasn’t Scotts problem anymore.

Marcin borke the silence by saying he’d got the scouts out looking for a replacement. Scott nodded, but it felt hollow. This kid has potential, real unfiltered raw potential. He coudld’ve been something here. But ‘could’ve’ doesn’t win games. ‘Could’ve’ gets you sacked.

He carried on walking towards the training ground and had remembered chewing Manolov out for a reckless challenge only two days ago. He shook his head and carried on walking

The kid was gone, time to move on.

-- -- -- -- --

Football News Round-Up – January 2018

The Premier League witnessed it’s first two managerial casualties of the 17/18 season, both coming in January. Mauricio Pochettino was sacked by Tottenham Hotspur after the club dropped to tenth in the league following some poor results, most notably losing away at Ipswich Town in the FA Cup. His replacement? Newcastle manager Rafa Benitez, who had guided them back to the Premier League and currently sat seventh. Rifts between Benitez and Newcastle owner Mike Ashley have resulted in Benitez heading to London. Benitez confirming to the press of Ashley's interference in first team affairs, plus the ongoing takeover talk being too much of a distraction for the Spaniard.

Rafa’s first match at Tottenham let him know the state of his new squad, as they lined up against the the team he left. Expecting to exploit known weaknesses in the Newcastle ranks proved unsuccessful as Newcastle put Spurs to the sword in a 4-1 drubbing where the away team didn’t break much of a sweat. 2 goals and 2 assists for Monaco’s on loan wonderkid Kylian Mbappe doing the damage for Newcastle against the lacklustre Spurs. In the stands watching was none other than Gus Hiddink, who has agreed a deal as interim manager of Newcastle for the remainder of the season. Ongoing talks regarding Mike Ashley’s sale of the club are apparently on again, after being off again and on again multiple times within the last six months.

The other manager to be relieved of his duties was Liverpool manager Jürgen Klopp, who was given his P45 after a disappointing run, culminating in a 3-0 home loss to Manchester United. The club had already eyed up Klopps replacement as Marcelino, the former Valencia manager had been installed two days later. The tactician swiftly started sorting his squad out as he sold winger Coutinho, a paltry two assists and zero goals in the league this season, to Barcelona for €33 million, a surprisingly high amount for a player that hadn’t performed at all this term. Marcelino then sent 22 million of that fee to Stoke for the services of Marko Arnautovic. 

Some would argue he’s a downgrade on Coutinho, but in the Stoke side that was sitting in sixth at the time of the transfer, Arnautovic had scored 10 Premier League goals and laid on a further 11 for his team mates.

Arsenal also made a pricey transfer, sealing the deal for Sporting Lisbon’s Adrien Silva for €35 million. Silva, capped plenty of times by Portugal is hoping to continue Arsenal’s push for the Premeir League title they came within 1 point of winning last season.

Paris Saint-Germain made headlines themselves, with the €40 million signing of Polish midfielder Karol Linetty from Sampdoria. With the transfer Linetty becomes the most expensive Polish footballer in history and the price tag has divided opinions. In general the football media suggest that PSG have overpaid for the 22 year old midfielder. Whereas pundits in Poland are all in agreement that PSG have underpaid for the player and the Parisian team have got themselves a bargain for one of Polands brightest talents.

A year after leaving Roma, Danielle De Rossi has become a cult hero at Boca Juniors. Having narrowly missed out on the Primera División by just 1 point last season, the Italian cemented his legacy by scoring in the COPA Argentina final and assisting what turned out to be the winner from Darío Benedetto’s goal to secure the trophy

Now club captain, De Rossi has played every available competitive minute for Boca since joining a year ago. Boca are currently on an eight game unbeaten run and sit top of the league on 29 points. Boca also confirmed the signing of young defender Arturo Calabresi for €2 million, another shrewd transfer from AS Roma.

It wouldn’t be a transfer window without some big money madness from Asia, and this January was no exception.

Angelo Ogbonna left West Ham to sign for Jiangsu Guoxin Sainty FC for €30M.

Aymen Abdennour left sixth place in La Liga Valencia to play for Poalo Cannavaro at Quanjian for €28M.

Lisandro López left Portuguese league leaders Benfica for €26M to play for Huaxia.

Rafinha left Bundesliga leaders and current champions Bayern Munich to join Luis Felipe Scolari at Guangzhou Evergrande for €20M.

Saudia Arabia seem intent on getting in on the act and throwing money around like it’s going out of fashion. Hulk was tempted to leave China to sign for Al-Hilal for the sum of €22M. Emerson Santos made the move from Brazillian Serie A side Botafogo to go to Al-Ahli for €20M. Pablo Zabaleta wasn’t playing much for Premier League champions Manchester City so will see out his remaining years as a player at Al-Shabab, who paid €10M for the aging full back. Jonathan dos Santos swaps the yellow shirts of Villarreal for the yellow shirts of Al-Nassr for €19M.

The influence of these leagues in the transfer market is growing, and it remains to be seen whether these investments will pay off.

The groups for the 2018 FIFA World Cup have been drawn, with one notable shock name making it through. Honduras have qualified for the tournament finals and will compete in Group B alongside DR Congo, Ukraine, and Uruguay.

A quick look at some of the toughest and easiest groups:

Group A: England, USA, Russia (hosts), Ghana – A tough draw for Ghana, who will need to produce some big performances to progress.
Group C: Belgium, Mexico, Spain, Senegal – Senegal face a difficult challenge against three strong teams.
Group F: Argentina, Austria, Japan, Switzerland – The easiest group on paper, with Argentina, the tournament favourites, expected to cruise through.

-- -- -- -- --

Scott Lańkowski leaned against a railing at the Ślęza Wrocław training ground as his players were going through some drills laid on by his assistant mt Peter Bastista. Six months in charge, twenty league games played. Nine wins, six draws and five losses. 

Not bad. Respectable even. Third place in the league!

Nobody had expected this. Not the fans, the local media or the board. Maybe not even Scott himself had expected it. Ślęza weren’t supposed to be in the promotion mix with over half the season gone, they were supposed to be down at the bottom of the league, scraping by and fighting to stay afloat. Yet here they were, defying the odds, standing toe to toe with the other teams with bigger budgets, bigger stadiums and bigger ambitions.

And leading the charge was Mikołaj Kotfas. The youngster on loan from Śląsk Wrocław, the team Scott supports nut hadn’t actually spoke to them, the deal was done befre Scott arrived. But that’s possibly why Scott trusted the kid so much. Maybe it’s why Koftas had repaid that trust with 10 league goals, running defences ragged and making every minute on the pitch count. He wasn’t just a loanee filling a gap, he was a big part of the teams success so far this season.

The job wasn’t done yet, not even close. The league was still tight and the fight far from over. Would they still be third come the end of the season? Probably not, but they’d set themselves up well enough that they weren’t looking over their shoulder at the relegation zone, like Scott and Bytom were last season. 

And as well as Scott and Ślęza  were doing, Polonia Bytom, the club that let him walk, the club that thought they could do better, were sinking like a stone

Ryszard Klusek, the man tasked with continuing to build on Scotts relegation success had found it harder, despite not having an eight point deduction to being the season with.

Under Klusek they’d won five games all season. 15th in the league and four points from safety, drowning and a club in freefall. The same club Scott dragged out of a black hole was staring relegation in the face, a relegation that is more likely than it was last season, without a points deduction. As for Klusek, he’s been chewed up and spat out, like he was never there at all.

Scott had been around football long enough to know how this game worked. There was no sympathy, no second chances. You either survived or you were left behind. Jakub had made Bytoms choice, now they were paying the price.

Scott jogged down to the pitch to join in with training. Six months into life in his dads city of birth, Wroclaw, and it was starting to feel like home. There was still a long way to go yet, but as far as he was concerned, he and Ślęza weren’t done surprising people yet.

– – – – --

Love the Mastercard gag, always a classic. Good showing there against Portstewart too.

Chapter 14

The first half would be best described as a slugfest. No finesse, no poetry, nothing technical, just bodies colliding, heads thumping, studs raking up the turf at every turn and the refs whistle ringing out regularly like a judges gavel. Bytom came in hard, reckless as if they were trying to make Scott pay for ever walking out on them. Like he had a choice. Wozniak, Trabka, Ryłukowski, Skrzypiński hammering that point home. One by one each of their names went into the referees book after either careless fouls or angry points being made, whichever way you looked at it. Ślęza weren’t innocent either. Former Bytom man and unsung hero of last season Mroz was the first to be booked in the game and Molski had picked up a yellow too, being dragged into the chaos whether he wanted to be or not.

The stats at the half told one story; four shots on goal for each team, but reality told another story; that Bytom were only ones testing Sobczak in goal and Ślęza hadn’t found any rhythm in the game, other than to keep ten men in play.

Scott closed the locker room behind behind, the sound echoing off the concrete walls. He paced in front of his player, eyes darting from face to face. He could see the tension in their shoulders, and the fire in their eyes. They were happy to fight for the boss, for the team, but there is a difference in fighting smart and fighting stupid.

‘The ref is handing out yellows like they’re free samples’ Scott growled ‘you so much as blink aggressively near one of their guys and he’ll book you for it. We don’t want to play scared, let’s play smart. They wanna drag us back into a war? Fine, but do not lose your heads. We hit em’ where it hurts when we bomb forward, throw everything you have in the attack, but only if the option is there. Keep your heads, and wait for the right moment’

Scott’s speech had the desired effect, the players nodded, some gritted teeth and rolled their necks. Mroz was the first to stand and declared ‘this war is far from over!’ and marched back on to the pitch

Ślęza came out sharper, quicker and more determined, but then disaster struck.

Manolov, the hot prospect, was given his chance at left full back due to Latka being out. What the hell was he thinking? The ball was there to be won, sure,but not like that. He flew in, both studs high, reckless, wild and the ref wasted no time. Even before Manolov got back up the ref’s hand was in the air. Straight red.

Scott snapped, throwing his water bottle to the ground before he even knew he’d thrown it. He stormed down the touchline to where Manolov was walking off the pitch ‘You stupid son….’ he cut himself off, seething. He could see the forlorn look on the young full backs face, distraught, upset and anger mixed into one. Ten men, in a game already on a knife edge? That could’ve, and should’ve been the end of them.

But football is a funny game isn’t it.

Bytom lined up the free kick deep in the Sleza half, two men standing over it, area packed with bodies. The ball came inswinging towards the mass of bodies. The ball hit the head of a Bytom player towards the goal, but Radler, the Ślęza captain rose highest and headed it away to Niewiadomski who found Mankowski out on the Ślęza right, and suddenly the counter attack was on.

Mankowski played the ball over the top to Jakobczyk who had space and darted down the right to the byline. By the time he’d got to the edge of the box two Bytom players had recovered, closed him down but the Sleza forward knew what to do.

His pass into the box was perfect. The keeper stood helplessly as he was wide open when Kluzek came rushing in, unmarked to tap in the far corner. A goal out of nothing. Bytoms fans fell silent. Scott allowed himself a smirk.

Bytom weren’t finished after conceding the opening goal, and they threw everything and everyone forward looking for the equalizer against the ten men. But the more they pushed the more they left themselves exposed at the back, a tale as old as time itself. But Ślęza? They were content to wait, and they smelled blood

Another counter attack from another long looping ball into the box, a blur of white and red surging forward as Bytom recovered with ease due to the extra man, but the extra man cost them on this occasion. Trabka brought the advancing Kluzek down just outside the box and was lucky not to see another yellow.

As the protests by the Bytom players continued the experienced Ngamayama stepped up to the ball, cool, calm and ruthless, he wasn’t waiting for anything.

A quick glance and his decision was made in a heartbeat. The defence, still complaining to the ref and the keeper trying in vain to sort his wall out, was caught with his pants around his ankles. Ngamayama hit the ball as sweet as he’s ever hit a dead ball in his whole career and both teams watched as it sailed toward goal, all watched as the Bytom keeper tried and failed to stop it flying into the net.

Two nil to Sleza against the odds.

Scott had to laugh, not a loud one but just enough to be heard by anyone standing near him, and bitter enough that he felt bad about it. Bytom thought they had the game under control, the equaliser was sure to come before long, the script was written for them. But the new Ślęza signing had just burned that script to ash.

Then Bytom’s frustration boiled over. Jonkisz, their own hot prospect, lunged in like a madman. His challenge was worse by far than Manolovs so the ref had no hesitation in showing him the red card. Ten v ten, five plus added time to go

Scott just shook his head. Two young players let themselves down in the game, and surely Bytom were done. There wasn’t enough fight in them when they had a man advantage and even less now the sides were equal. And Ślęza weren’t done punishing Scotts old team. One last attack two minutes after the red, one last nail in the coffin.

A corner came in from the right, swinging perfectly which found Kluzek, he controlled the ball and then found Ngamayama free in the box, his low shot just with enough power to creep over the line. Three nil, game, set and match to Ślęza 

As the final whistle went Scott stood with his hands in his pockets watching as the players shook hands and made their way off the pitch. The Bytom fans who had applauded him before kick off were quiet now. Their club and the team had been humiliated by the man their chairman let walk away.

He turned and caught Jakubs eye in the stands. The Bytom chairman's face was pale, his lips tight. Scott just nodded, and walked down the tunnel. No words were needed, the scoreboard spoke volumes.

– – – – --

Chapter 13

The bus ride from Wroclaw to Bytom was quiet. Scott Lańkowski sat at the front on his own, watching out the window the grey sky and landscape roll past, his Red Bull can now empty. He’d been to plenty of stadiums in his time, both in Poland and his native Canada, but returning to this one was different. This was Bytom. The place where he’d fought for survival, where he’d kept a sinking ship afloat against all the odds. And the place that had let him walk away without more than a handshake and a thank you when the impossible job was done.

Ślęza Wrocław were in fifth after fifteen games, better than most had expected. Seven wins in there to go with three draws and five defeats, an impressive start for the promoted team, but nothing was guaranteed in this or any league. Polonia Bytom were sitting in eleventh, struggling for form, the weight of financial trouble pressing down on them like a debt collector at the front door. A big chunk of the team Scott had at Bytom had gone, a few jumping ship to join him in Wroclaw would be there with him for this game. But the league positions would mean nothing in the game, this would be more than just three points.

The bus rolled up outside the stadium, the old steel skeleton of Bytoms ground looming over them, weathered by time and neglect. Scott was the first to step off, the air thick with coal dust and memories. Then something he hadn’t expected, the applause. ‘Dzięki Scott’ - ‘Thanks Scott’ one of them said ‘ you saved this club when no one else would’

Scott smiled and shook more hands as he made his way into the stadium. He wasn’t expecting a warm welcome back, but something about this had caught him off guard. He gave another few small waves and handshakes as he entered the doorway.

Inside the lounge on the way to the locker rooms he ran into a familiar face, Jakub, the Polonia Bytom chairman, that said he wouldn’t be renewing Scotts contract despite achieving the impossible. The man that had decided Scott wasn’t worth keeping around. He still wore the same ill fitting suit and same wary expression.

‘Scott’ Jakub said offering a hand. Scott took it but didn’t squeeze any harder than he had to ‘Jakub’ he said with a nod

‘Good to see you back’ Jakub replied, his voice a little too smooth, the words a little too rehearsed ‘you did well for us, and you’re doing well now as I expected’

‘Yeah?’ Scott said ‘funny, it didn’t seem like that when you let me walk’

Jakub laughed awkwardly shifting on his feet ‘you know how it is Scott. Money is tight, I offered you a deal that I honoured. We have to make difficult choices’

‘Hows that working out for you?’ Scott said

‘We’re getting by’ Jakub said quickly

Scott smirked as he opened the door ‘sure you are’ he said and walked on. There was northing left to say.

In the away locker room Scott stood in front of this players, trying to push the nerves down and keep his head clear. He didn’t know if it was the welcome from the fans, the sight of the Bytom badge in the tunnels, seeing Jakub or the memory of those cold nights scraping points together in the quest for survival, but something had him on edge. And he needed to make sure it didn’t spread to his players

He cleared his throat ‘this isn’t about me’ he said, voice steady ‘it’s not about the past, it’s about today and today only. It’s about getting three points against a team that needs them just as bad as we do. You stick to the plan, fight for every ball and play like we deserve to be in the top half, not scraping at the bottom of the table. That’s all I want from you today’

The players nodded, some more focussed than others. He could feel the tension in the room, the unspoke awareness that this game wasn’t like the others preceding it. He needed the players to forget that. He just hoped he could forget it himself.

As the referee knocked on both doors and told them it was time to head out to the pitch, the voice echoed down the corridor through the cold Bytom air, Scott took a last look at his team sheet, nodded to Peter Bastista and was the first to leave the dressing room and first out to the touchline.

The home fans clapped as he made his way to the away dugout, the first time he’d done that in this stadium. No more thinking. No more remembering, just this game.

-- -- -- -- --

Unlucky getting knocked out the cup there mate.

Once you get those wingers in and add depth to the squad you'll be sailing!

I don't understand these people that do saves like this on youtube and just holiday through, why buy the game if you're not going to play the game

Scott was ready and the first one out of the tunnel at kick off. His first game as manager of a team in Wroclaw, he stood on the touchline, hoodie on over the blue shirt he was wearing against the cold, a nearly empty bottle of water in his hand. 
 

The flood lights were flickering at Karpaty Krosno's ground Legionow, threatening to stay on or off, who knew. The air was thick with tension, two teams staring each other down in the tunnel, both wondering who would be the first to blink.

Staring line up 4-4-2:

GK: Sobczak (making Sleza debut)

RB: Siodowy (making Sleza debut)

LB: Kucharcyz

CD: Radler (captain)

CD: Niewiadomski

RM: Molski

LM: Kluzek

CDM: Mroz (making Sleza debut)

CDM: Kwiek

CF: Jakobczyk

CF: Antkowiak (making Sleza debut)

Bench - Domzal (GK), Latka, Wdowiak, Manolov, Mankowski, Michalski, Koftas

The game started slow, the kind of sluggish affair you’d expect from a promoted team against a team happy to just be in the league. Scott went with the tried and tested 4-4-2 with two holding midfielders. Making use of his new signings, Antkowiak leading the line, Mroz one of the two holding players and Siodowy expected to shore up the defence at right full back. Young Sobcazk was making his professional debut between the stocks as well. But neither side seemed to be wanting to make the first move or first mistake, both content to wait for an opening that didn’t come in the first forty five minutes.

A few tense words in the dressing from Scott. He was pleased to not have conceded but frustrated at his teams effort to create anything. Antkowiak and Jakobczyk having a combined eleven touches in the first half. Not good enough. He told the players that opportunities don’t wait forever.

The second half started much like the first, tense, slow and laboured, but the dam finally broke. Seventythree minutes on the clock, Jakobczyk, the man with a strikers instinct, found a pocket of space just inside the area and lashed the ball into the net. One nil, deadlock broken and the relief was almost tangible. 

Then, like a fighter that smelled blood, he struck again right from the kick off. Karpaty barely had time to pick themselves up from the first goal before they were staring at a two goal deficit. Pressing right from the restart Jakobczyk caught the loose ball as it was cleared, hit it first time and it clipped the defenders heel, wrong footing the keeper and crossed the goal line. The scoreboard read Karpaty Krosno 0 - 2 Ślęza Wroclaw.

Just over five minutes later it was game over and Jakobczyk had sealed his hat trick from the penalty spot, hammering the final nail into Karpaty’s coffin. The home side was finished and any sense of fight had drained from them, leaving only tired legs and vacant stares.

The final twist of the knife came from Kluzez as Sleza’s fourth goal came with three minutes left in the game, a final exclamation point on a brutal final twenty minutes from the away team.

At the final whistle Scott shook hands with the Karpaty manager and coaching staff, not giving off any emotion and displaying professionalism throughout. His players however embraced the moment and celebrated the win on the pitch. First game and first win. A statement from the promoted team that they won’t go down without a fight, but Scott knew better than to get comfortable.

– – – – –

The second game for Scott came round fast, a home debut, a chance to make Ślęza Wroclaw believe. The rain earlier in the week had stopped but it made the pitch a sleak battlefield, but the Sleza boys came out swinging like they had unfinished business. Puszcza were the visitors in game two of the league.

Three minutes in and Jakobczyk picked up where he left off against Karpaty. A perfect ball to feet from Kwiek in the middle, Jakobczyk took a touch with his right, then in one quick motion turned one way, took the ball with him and lashed it with his left and the home crowd erupted as the ball thundered past the keeper

And just like the Karpaty game the message was simple, press and press hard, which Ślęza did.

Even before Puszcza had time to regroup from the opener, Jakobczyk found his strike partner and new signing Antkowiak in box with a lifted pass. Antkowiak headed the ball into the net despite the keepers effort. Forsr minutes on the clock and Ślęza were in the drivers seat

Puszcza tried to claw their way back, but frustration boiled over. Sowinksi let the frustration get the better of him as he lunged in with feet high in a reckless challenge that had no place in any level of football. A straight red and no one, least of all Sowinksi, could have any complaints

Scott barely reacted, just muttered something under his breath and carried on coaching the game, which was as good as done thirty minutes in.

Ślęza didn’t push for more, they didn’t need to. They let Puszcza  have a lot with the ball, daring the ten men to attack and leave themselves vulnerable, but they barely threatened the Ślęza goal. Two goals, three points, and a clean sheet. Job done.

As the final whistle blew, Scott allowed himself the smallest of smiles and a raised hand to the fans. Two games, six points, no goals conceded. It was a start. But seasons aren’t won in August.

There were still storms on the horizon.

– – – – --

The day after the Puszcza win Scott had sat in his office, jubilant after two wins to start the season. The door opened without a knock, Marcin Lachowski never knocked, and he walked in, shut the door behind him and sat down. The look on his face told Scott it wouldn’t be good news he was bringing

‘Górnik Łęczna put in a bid for Korytek’ Marcin said, straight to the point. ‘His agent’s demanding we accept’

Scott didn’t react to the news, he seemed to be expecting this ‘the kids got a lot to prove’ he said ‘we aren’t in a position to gamble on potential’  Marcin just nodded, waiting for the boss to advise what he should. Scott then said ‘funny, a bigger team comes knocking and suddenly he’s got itchy feet’

Marcin shrugged, he’d seen it enough times in his playing career ‘he’s young, stupid and the agent will be telling him that he’s bigger than this place. We both know he’s not ready for that move, but it’s not our problem now’

Scott considered it for a moment then said ‘you already accepted the offer?’

‘Yeah’ Marcin said ‘no point keeping a kid that doesn’t want to be here, and I doubt he’ll play any more games there than he would here this season anyway. Plus I’ve got his replacement lined up already’

‘Already?’ Scott said, dismissing the comment at Korytek’s playing time

‘Alain Ngamayama’ Marcin said and before he could continue Scott said ‘The Poznan captain?’

‘The very same. He’s left now, they didn’t renew his contract but he’d been training with them as a gesture of goodwill. He’s got the experience we could do with, leadership and built like a brick wall. Exactly what we need’

Scott thought it over, rolling the name in his head. Ngamayama wasn’t some kid with dreams bigger than his boots, he was a seasoned pro and a man who’d seen some real battles. Korytek might have potential, but potential didn't win relegation battles. Experience did. ‘Works for me, get it done’

Marcin gave him a knowing smile and said ‘I already did’

With a chuckle Scott said ‘you don’t waste any time do you’

‘Neither do you’ Marcin said, then got up and said ‘and that’s why we work well together’

As the door clicked shut behind him, Scott leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. One untried and untested kid out, a real soldier in. Maybe they were actually building something here. 

– – – – --

Chapter 12

The rain was hitting the office window as Scott was sat down, the type of drizzle that seemed to seep into the bones and linger there. A single desk lamp was casting long shadows across the room, highlighting the stacks of paperwork and the empty coffee cups that had accumulated during Scotts short time in the job.

Sat across from Scott was Marcin Lachowski, sat with sleeves rolled up, a notepad in front of him and a pencil that kept swirling between his fingers. The newly appointed director of football had the calm and methodical demeanour of a man who saw the bigger picture even when the details were still blurry.

Scott leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking under his weight as he exhaled a long sigh, the stress of the day coming out in that breath. ‘We’ve got some gaps Marcin, big ones. If we’re going to survive we need to secure some reinforcements, not just bodies but players who know how to fight and grind out results. I’m not interested in shiny projects or gambling on potential again, I want grit and experience’

Marcin nodded flipping open his notepad ‘I’ve been on with it. I’ve got some deals lined up, free transfers that won’t dip into the small budget we’ve got. I’ve found a forward, Hubert Antkowiak is available on a free. He might be young at 20 but he’s already got a good number of games and goals under hie belt. He won’t be 20 goals a season but he’ll work his socks off and link up with Jakobczyk and Koftas well I’m sure of it’

Scott took a moment and said ‘he’s not flashy but as long as he’s happy doing the dirty work and take some hits, I’m happy to go for him’

Marcin made a note then looked up ‘you might not like this but I’ve kept in touch with people in Bytom. You know the situation there, he’s paying wages late if at all, he’s got debts piling up to his eyeballs so he’s letting players go’

‘Who you thinking?’ Scott asked, already running the names through his mind he’d happily bring from Bytom to Sleza with him

‘Mróz and Słodowy’ Marcin started, and when Scott didn’t say anything he continued ‘they’re both available. Mroz we know will run himself into the ground if you asked him to, and Matty was one of the players that shone last season’

Scotts expression hardened, knowing he’d worked with both players last season, knew exactly what they’d bring to his new team ‘their loss is our gain’ he said, made a note on his own notepad and continued ‘I don’t like the idea of raiding the club again, I got you and Pete and Bytom were good to me’ Marcin didn’t say anything so Scott then said ‘but no one gave me any favours last season and I’m not in the business of charity ether. Make the call to them both and we’ll both speak to them’

Marcin nodded, making another note before flipping to a fresh page ‘last one now, Mateusz Michalski. Attacking midfielder, creative, can pick a pass, reminds me of me in a way. He’s had a couple of clubs and never really settled. But I think he could be the creativity we’ll need this season to stay up. Him and Kwiek in the middle with Mroz supporting might just create something’

Scott nodded and said ‘Mateusz Michalski, I am sure I’ve seen him play. He could be just the spark we need, yeah, let’s go in for him’

Marcin nodded and the faintest hint of a smile formed on his lips ‘that’s four players boss, I’m sure we can get all of them in. Maybe not game changers on their own, but they’ll make us tougher, stronger and harder to break down. Survival players’

Scott agreed, a new sense of determination setting over him ‘that’s exactly what we need, survival players. We’re not going to get any favours from anyone, the whole league will see us as three easy points. We’re gonna be fighting for every point and clawing our way towards survival. With the squad already plus these four, they’ll give us a fighting chance’

The squad was starting to take shape, the pieces coming together like a jigsaw puzzle in shades of gray. It wasn’t perfect, but perfection wasn’t the goal. Survival was. And with these new faces, Ślęza Wrocław had just a little more muscle, a little more grit, and maybe, just maybe, a chance to keep their heads above water.

– – – – --

Chapter 11

Scott Lańkowski had chosen the dive bar on the outskirts of Wroclaw for this meeting, the kind of place where no one asked questions and the jukebox sounded like it hadn’t been fed coins since the late 80’s. Sat across from him sat two men who’d been through war with him already; Peter Bastista and Marcin Lachowski. Two of his trusted comrades from their season in Bytom, two first team regulars he counted on all season, the first two names on the team sheet and now, possibly, the first two bricks in the foundation of his new backroom team at Ślęza Wrocław.

He took a sip of his drink, letting the silence hang like a low fog before speaking ‘I’m not gonna sugarcoat it boys, Bytom’s in trouble, big trouble. Money troubles. I know first hand from Jakub that he won’t be offering much financial incentive for this season, I figured you both knew that already though’

Batista nodded, his face a mask of quiet resignation. He’d spent enough time in the trenches of Polish football to know when a club was circling in the drain. 
 

Marcin Lachowski just leaned back, arms crossed but with narrowing eyes. The look that said he’d already thought this through but wasn’t going to give anything away just yet.

Scott leaned forward, voice low and steady and said ‘Ślęza’s no palace, but we’ve got a chance here. A chance to build something. I need people I can trust. People I know that have got what it takes to survive when the odds are stacked against you’ he then looked at Bastista and said ‘Pete, you need an opportunity and I need an assistant manager. You’ve got the brain for it, you were my vice captain last season and you know how I work. This team will need some more discipline, structure and someone that can read the game. What do you say?’

He didn’t hesitate, he’d been in the trenches with Scott already and he knew the man didn’t make any promises he couldn’t keep ‘I’m in, I've already told Jakub I won't be staying anyway’ he said, voice steady and professional ‘let’s do it’

Scott nodded knowing Bastista would be in, then he turned to Lachowski. This would be tricker. Marcin Lachowski wasn’t just a former player or the captain last season, he was a thinker, a strategist, the playmaker. Scott knew he needed more than a coach, he needed someone who could handle the other side of the backroom game, the scouting assignments, the contract negotiations, the chess moves that happened off the pitch

‘Marcin’ Scott began ‘I want you to offer you something different. Director of football. You’ll run recruitment for me, set the scouts up, work the deals, help me bring in the players that we need to stay in the league. You’ve got an eye for talent and you both know this league inside out. What do you think?’

Marcin didn’t answer right away. He reached for his glass, took a slip and let the silence stretch. Finally he spoke ‘Director of football? Sounds like you’re trusting me with a lot Scott, you sure about this?

Scott just smirked, the kind of smirk that came from knowing he’d already won the argument ‘I don’t need to be sure Marcin. I just need to know you’ll put the work in. We’ll sit down, all three of us and go through the squad, figure out where we're thin, find players who can make a difference. Us three, we’ll build this thing together’

Lachowski nodded slowly, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth ‘alright, I’m in. But you’re buying the coffee for those transfer meetings’

Scott chuckled and said ‘deal. Welcome to Ślęza boys, let’s get to work’. They shook hands and sealed the deal. 
 

Outside the rain had started to fall again, another steady drizzle that soaked the city’s streets but for Scott it was just another night, another step in a journey that would be as much about survival as it was about ambition. But with Bastista and Lachowski at his side he had the beginnings of a team, not just on the pitch but behind the scenes. And in a relegation survival fight that was half the battle.

– – – – --

Ślęza Wrocław the key players

The team that Scott Lańkowski inherited wasn’t dripping with glamour, but in a league where survival was the name of the game, it was a lineup that promised grit, experience, and just enough spark to keep hopes alive. Each name was a character in a story of struggle, ambition, and the unyielding grind of lower league football.

Błażej Radler – The Captain.

At 34, Błażej Radler was a man built for war. A grizzled center half with the scars to prove it, he is the kind of player who doesn’t flinch in the face of a crunching tackle or a high ball into the box. Radler isn’t fast anymore, hell, he probably never was, but what he lacked in pace he made up for with a mind like a chess master and a presence that could make a striker think twice. He’d seen it all, done it all, and as captain he was the spine of the squad. If Ślęza Wrocław were to survive, they’d do it on the shoulders of this defensive general.

Kajetan Latka – The Loyal Lieutenant

At left-back, Kajetan Łatka is Radler’s most trusted soldier. As vice captain the 25 year old has the look of a man who’d spent his career cleaning up other people’s messes. He is no stranger to the dirty work, chasing wingers down alleys and sticking a foot in where others wouldn’t dare. Solid, reliable, and a leader in his own right, Latka brought balance and stability to a team that would need every ounce of both..

Dawid Molski – The Young Gun

At 22, Dawid Molski is the kind of right full back who could run all night and then some. He is the kind kid who doesn’t know when to quit with the kind of ability in the cross you’d kill for in a league where games came fast and hard and goals were probably going to be scarce. His is the kind of cross from the right that would hopefully carve through defenses like a hot knife through butter. Scott would be counting on him to provide the width and chaos, two things Ślęza desperately need.

Aleksander Kwiek – The Architect

Deep lying playmakers don’t usually last until 34, but Aleksander Kwiek isn’t your average midfielder. With the ball at his feet he is an artist, painting passes that could turn nothing into something. Kwiek can’t cover ground like he used to, but he desn’t need to, he made the ball do the hard work. If Ślęza are going to create anything resembling a chance, it would flow through the boots of this seasoned maestro.

Kamil Mańkowski – The young sentinel

Kamil Mańkowski is another right sided player. The 22 year old winger whose coaching reports give off the air of consistency and high decision making that is going to be key this season. He is the type of winger who could leave defenders grasping at shadows. Fearless and unpredictable, he is the kind of player who could win you a game, or lose you one, with a single touch. Scott knows Mańkowski’s type; raw, inconsistent, but capable of brilliance. If Ślęza need a moment of magic, Mańkowski is going the guy to provide it.

Jakub Jakobczyk – The sniper

Jakub Jakobczyk, the 26 year old forward, isn’t flashy, but he has a knack for being in the right place at the right time. He will be one of the players tasked with taking on the goalscoring burden of the team, a player expected to throw himself into battles with center backs twice his size and still come up fighting. If Ślęza’s survival came down to a scrappy finish in a crowded box, you could bet Jakobczyk would be the one throwing his body on the line to make it happen.

Mateusz Sobczak – The Future Between the Sticks

The first, a deal to bring in Mateusz Sobczak, a young goalkeeper on loan from Śląsk Wrocław.  At 20, Sobczak is raw, but he has reflexes like a cat and high enough decision making that he can be relied upon despite his young age. He’d have his work cut out for him in the chaos of ii Liga, but as a keeper who could pull off the spectacular he might just be the difference between staying up and going down.

Mikołaj Kotfas – The Wildcard

Another loan from Śląsk Wrocław, Mikołaj Kotfas is a young forward with fire in his boots and ambition in his veins. He hadn’t made a name for himself yet, but the potential was there. Quick enough in acceleration, instinctive and being able to make the right decisions, Kotfas could be the injection of youthful arrogance Ślęza needs, a player who didn’t know enough to fear failure.

Scott Lańkowski’s task was simple, if not easy; mold this motley crew into a team that could fight, scrap, and survive, just like last season in Bytom. The chairman had given him the tools, and the fans? Well, they were watching, waiting, and hoping. The season ahead would be a grind, but if anyone could make it work, it was Scott Lańkowski. After all, he’d built his small reputation out of doing the impossible.

– – – – --

Part 2 - The Homecoming

Chapter 10.

The rain was hammering down on the streets of Wrocław, glistening something like polished obsidian under the weak light of a flickering lamp post. Ślęza Wrocław, the city's other smaller team, wearing the gold and crimson jerseys had just clawed their way into ii Liga, the unforgiving third tier of Polish football. It was a promotion earned through hard work and grit, much like Polonia Bytoms survival was earned the same way, and no one was under any illusions. Staying in the third tier would be a completely different challenge than reaching it. A whole new battle was coming, a street fight where survival was the only prize.

Better to make history than study it.

Enter Scott Lańkowski, a man who knew a thing or two about survival. In Bytom, they said he was a miracle worker. Polonia Bytom had started their season with an eight point millstone tied around their necks. Relegation seemed inevitable, a slow march to oblivion. But Scott Lańkowski didn’t just keep them afloat, he made believers out of a team drowning in despair. It wasn’t pretty, but survival never is.

Ślęza’s chairman had seen enough. He didn’t need a showman or a visionary; he needed a fighter. Someone who could keep them punching above their weight in a league filled with bigger budgets and sharper teeth. They turned to Lańkowski, a man whose reputation was built not on glory, but on grit. On survival instincts.

The decision wasn’t just about football; it was about the identity of Ślęza Wrocław. They’d fought their way back to relevance, but the ii Liga wasn’t going to roll out the red carpet. They needed a manager who could navigate the tightrope of ambition and pragmatism. Scott fit the bill like a pair of well worn boots. 

For Scott Lańkowski, the job was clear. Survival wasn’t just the goal; it was the only game in town. Ślęza knew they’d be in the trenches this season, and they wanted a man who’d already proven he could handle the mud and the blood. Lańkowski was that man, a coach who could turn adversity into just another obstacle to overcome. It wouldn’t be mission impossible, merely mission quite difficult.

As the shadows lengthened over Wrocław’s ancient streets, a new chapter in Ślęza’s story was beginning. It wouldn’t be glamorous, and it wouldn’t be easy. But with Scott Lańkowski at the helm, they had a fighting chance. And in the lower leagues, sometimes that’s all you can ask for.

– – – – -- 

Kamil Aftyka, the chairman of Ślęza Wrocław, a man of sharp suits and sharper instincts, had been mulling over the hiring of Scott for a while. On paper, Lańkowski wasn’t a savior. He wasn’t a knight in shining armor. He was a scrapper, a man who thrived in chaos and could squeeze results out of a squad like a mechanic coaxing life out of a sputtering engine. 

The experience at Polonia Bytom spoke volumes. That was a team dead and buried before the season even started, an eight point deduction that all but confirmed relegation. But Lańkowski hadn’t just kept that team in the league, he dragged them out of the abyss, kicking, screaming, clawing and leaving the doubters choking on their own predictions.

To Kamil it wasn’t a hard sell. Ślęza weren’t looking for a maestro to conduct a symphony, they needed a fighter in the trenches, someone that knew how to, and 

already had weathered a storm and find a way to live another day. Scott Lańkowski was that man.

He wasn’t flashy, sure. He didn’t have a trophy filled career, yet, or even much experience in football management. But in the third tier of football, survival wasn’t about glittering resumes, it was about getting your hands dirty dirty and keeping your head above water.

The fans though? They were a mixed bag. The majority of people in Wroclaw support the much bigger Slask, but you would still get some Slask fans attending Ślęza games. The die hard Ślęza fans that only followed the yellow and red saw the hire for what it was, a calculated gamble on a man who’d stared down the reaper and won.

Scott wasn’t from Wroclaw, everyone knew that. He also didn’t hide his love and affection for the green and white side of the city, the Slask side either. But the people in the know knew one thing for certain; if Ślęza wanted to survive their first season back in the third division, they’d need someone who could navigate the murky waters. And Lańkowski, all things considered, was probably the guy to do it.

After he’d signed the papers to officially confirm Scott joining as the clubs manager for the season, Kamil leaned back in his chair, content at knowing they’d have at least a fighting chance of securing survival this season. He hadn’t been looking for miracles, he’d been looking for a fighter. And with Scott Lańkowski at the helm that was as close to hope as he could ask for. 

– – – – --

Shout out to @carlos6 for the kits

Incredible victory well done!

A Derek Dooley reference, wow! Love it mate.  Unlucky with the 2 injuries before the cup final though, hope you can pull through and win it!!

Scott Lańkowski sat on the edge of the bed in the spare room at a cousin's house in Wroclaw, staring out the window at the city skyline. He could make out the Wroclaw Stadium, home of Śląsk Wrocław in the distance.The city as always was alive with its usual hum, cars crawling along the cobblestones, the trams coming and going on time and the late night laughter from the bars. 

‘Dad’ Scott began, his voice low and cautious ‘I’ve been offered the job in Wroclaw’

The silence at the end entered awkward territory. ‘Dad, did you hear me?’ Scott asked, assuming his dad was overjoyed at him being offered Śląsk job

‘Ślęza’ Piotr finally said, his Polish accent thick and familiar. ‘Not Śląsk’

‘No dad, not Śląsk’ the silence then became more annoying than awkward.

Scott braced himself and said ‘look I know how it looks. Trust me when I say it feels weird. Wrong even. Like I’m betraying something, us, you, Śląsk I don’t know. You always told me stories about the great Śląsk teams, about the first time you ever saw them play, I still haven't seen them play and I’ve been in Poland for a year. You told me about how Śląsk was the team that gave you and your friends something to believe in and now I’m……

‘And you think I’ll be angry’ Piotr cut him off with his usual firm and low voice

‘Yeah, something like that’

He could hear Piotr exhale down the phone line, the faint sound being carried across the world. ‘Scott my boy, Śląsk will always be in my heart, our hearts, that will never change no matter what. But this call you got, this offer, this is an opportunity son. A job doesn’t just fall from the sky for no reason, as I’ve always said everything happens for a reason. You’ve worked too hard in Bytom, done too much in a short space of time to let loyalty to our team hold you back. Ślęza isn’t the enemy, not even close. They’re just another team trying to survive, like Bytom was’

‘But it’s in Wrocław, your city, our city. How do I walk in the locker room and talk to the Ślęza players, them knowing who I support and me knowing they’re not Śląsk’

As quick as a beat Piotr said ‘That’s easy. You walk in as their manager, the boss’ took a moment and then continued ‘and you do the job. Do it with respect, authority and pride. You don’t need to forget where you come from, where you’ve been to take a step forward. Śląsk, if they come calling will understand, and if they don’t, that’s their problem, not yours’

Scott leaned back against the headboard and closed his eyes. His fathers words were steady and grounding, like they always were. Piotr had weathered his own storms, leaving Poland and chasing the dream in Canada, and raising a family far away from all he’d known. If anyone understood the weight of tough decisions, it was him

‘I just, I don’t know, I don’t want to let you down’ Scott said, voice barely above a whisper

‘How could you let me down my boy? You’ve done exactly what I did, just in reverse. I left Poland for Canada to work in football, you left Canada to go work in football in Poland. You’ve already made me proud Scott. And this with Ślęza is just the next chapter’

Scott nodded even though his dad couldn't see it. The weight he was feeling before the call now felt a lot lighter and the path a little clearer, and Piotr spoke before Scott could say thank you

‘Just do me one favour son’

‘What’s that?’

‘When Śląsk play Ślęza and you win, don’t ring me giving me grief or celebrate too hard’

Scott laughed hard, harder than he laughed in the last year and said ‘okay, deal’

As he hung up, the city outside and the future in it seemed less daunting. The lights of Wrocław were a little brighter, as was the future for Scott. It wasn't an easy decision to make, but it felt right, and for now, that was enough.

– – – – --

Summer 2017 transfer news

This summer’s transfer window has seen massive moves across Europe, with record breaking fees and clubs reshaping their squads. 

Biggest Transfers of the Summer:

• Antoine Griezmann: The biggest transfer of the summer sees the French superstar leaving Atlético Madrid for Manchester United in a blockbuster €100 million deal. Griezmann will lead Jose Mourinho's attack alongside Marcus Rashford
• Marco Verratti: Manchester City splashed €65 million to bring the midfield maestro from PSG, further strengthening Pep Guardiola’s control heavy style
• Diego Costa: Despite scoring 20 Premier League goals for Chelsea last season, Costa has moved to rivals and league runners up Arsenal for €60 million, a shock move that bolsters the Gunners’ attacking options.
• Aymeric Laporte: The French defender swaps Athletic Bilbao for PSG for €65 million as the Parisian giants aim to fortify their backline.
• Gonçalo Guedes: After failing to fully settle at PSG, Guedes makes a high-profile €60 million switch to Liverpool, adding pace and flair to their attack.
• Alexandre Lacazette: Following a 33 goal season in Ligue 1, Lacazette leaves Lyon for a surprising €34 million move to Benfica, looking to maintain his prolific form.
• Federico Chiesa: The Italian winger joins Tottenham Hotspur from Fiorentina for €33 million as Spurs aim to add creativity to their front line.
• Christian Pulisic: The American wonderkid makes a high profile move to Bayern Munich from Dortmund for €45 million, linking up with Sadio Mané, who also joined Bayern from Liverpool for €37 million.
• Jamaal Lascelles: The commanding center-back and Newcastle captain joins United for €33 million.
• Paul Dummett: Manchester United secure another Newcastle player, the reliable left-back, for €20 million.
• Juan Mata: After several successful years at Old Trafford, Mata departs for Barcelona in a €39 million deal.
• Harry Maguire: The Gunners shore up their defense with the €22 million signing of the promising English center back from Hull City.
• Andrea Belotti: After scoring 20 goals in Serie A, the Torino striker heads to Madrid for €35 million, aiming to add firepower alongside Karim Benzema and Ronaldo.
   

Back in the top flight under Rafa Benítez, Newcastle had a productive window:

• Fabian Schär: €6 million – Adds depth to their defense.
• Sergio Rico: €17 million – A high-quality goalkeeper acquisition from Sevilla.
• Milan Skriniar: €15 million – A talented defender brought in to anchor the backline following the departures of Lascelles and Dummet
• Jonathan Cafu: €5 million – A low-cost attacking reinforcement. Will feed off playing alongside Alexander Mitrovic
• Panagiotis Retsos & Olivier Ntcham: Loan signings to improve squad depth.
• Kylian Mbappé: A surprsiing transfer, but very ambitious loan signing from Monaco of the young French sensation who could be a game-changer.
• Jonjo Shelvey: Sold to West Ham for €27 million

This transfer window saw record fees spent across Europe, with Manchester United and PSG leading the spending spree. New stars like Kylian Mbappé and Federico Chiesa could light up the Premier League, while Griezmann, Verratti, and Costa headline marquee moves that will reshape Europe’s footballing landscape.

A last minute deal was also confirmed as Simeone Zaza has left Juventus and former Chelsea manager Antonio Conte to join former Juve manager Massimo Allegri at Chelsea. The sum of 75 million was paid for the striker that has scored an impressive 29 Serie A goals last season.

– – – – --

The café was quiet, the hum of conversation low and unobtrusive. Scott Lańkowski was sitting next to the window, nursing a coffee that had long since gone cold. The cup felt heavy in his hand, much like the thoughts weighing on his mind.

The streets of Bytom stretched out before him damp in the morning rain, a city he had come to know intimately over the past year. Now, however, it was part of his past. 

Leaving Polonia Bytom felt like stepping off a carousel after it had spun wildly for far too long. The relief of stillness was accompanied by a sense of disorientation. The job he was tasked with, unlikely survival, had consumed him, every waking moment spent wrestling with the impossible of turning a relegation bound team with an eight point deduction into survivors. He’d done it, barely. And the victory had felt hollow in the aftermath, like a battle fought well and hard, only to limp away from the battlefield.

He replayed the final meeting with Jakub, the Bytom chairman, that ended with him leaving in his mind a hundred times. He had earned an extension to his deal, he’d done something no one ever thought was possible despite Jakubs assertion of the one year only deal. The season was long and hard and had drained him emotionally and physically. But as the days passed he couldn't help but feel the pull of the touchline again. The roar of a crowd wanting the win, the surge of adrenaline with every goal, every tackle and every near miss. It was addictive.

However doubt lingered. Was he cut out for this? Could he continue in the role? Management was a thankless grind and his time at Bytom had aged him in a way he didn’t appreciate or had anticipated. He wasn’t sure if he had the resilience to go through it all again.

He’d decided that while he was in Poland he’d spend some time with relatives from his dads side in Wrocław. He’d stood at the edge of a quiet park taking it all in. The sun was dipping low on the horizon casting the city in shades of amber and gold.

Ottowa felt like a distant memory in the year he’d been in Poland. Back home he’d found coaching opportunities just coming to him without having to put effort in to find them, the kind of jobs that didn’t come with the weight of history or points deductions pressing down on him and the team every game. But it wasn’t just about football, it was family, familiarity and the ache of a city he grew up in.

Yet Poland, his second nation and his dads nation of birth had a grip on him. The streets of Wrocław whispered stories of his dads upbringing, tales of resilience and pride. Coaching in Poland felt like carrying a torch, a connection to something larger than himself. The challenge, the chaos, the passion was all intoxicating, even as it drained him.

He exhaled as his phone rang, his breath visible in the evening chill of Wrocław. To go back to Canada now would mean another fresh start, probably a lighter load, but a step away from the heart of what drove him.

When the call came in Scott was caught off guard. Ślęza Wrocław, a club from his father’s city, had seen their manager leave for pastures new and were interested in making him their next manager. 

It was unexpected but flattering, and a sign that his work at Bytom hadn’t gone unnoticed. As he hung up the phone his stomach churned with a mixture of excitement and unease.

Wrocław. His dads home. The name alone sent shivers down his spine and conjured memories of his dads stories as a kid, tales of narrow streets leading up to the stadium of the other team in Wrocław, the team both he and dad support, Śląsk. 

His allegiance was to the green and white of Śląsk, not to the city’s other team that he’d just been on the phone to. Ślęza, though... they weren’t Śląsk. Not that they had a big city rivalry with each other. Ślęza were just the other team in the city, the underdogs in the shadow of the bigger club. Even talking to Ślęza felt like a betrayal to his dad and walking into unfamiliar territory. 

If he was to take the job it would feel like betraying a part of himself that had always been loyal to the green and white. And yet, wasn’t that what he’d done? Bytom had been a challenge no one wanted and he’d thrived in that role.

He leaned back in the chair and stared out of the window. Rain began to fall again, light and steady with the droplets racing each other down the glass. He thought of his dad, of the pride he’d felt and shown when Scott had taken the Bytom job. He imagined the look on his face if he told him he’d got the job in Wroclaw, just not for Śląsk.

Could he bring himself to do it? Could he stay here in the city he loves, and take the reins of a promoted team here that would always be second best in his and his dads heart? It wasn’t about loyalty he kept telling himself. It was the game, the job, the challenge and the chance to prove Bytom hadn’t been a fluke or beginners luck.

But it wasn’t just about football was it. This was personal. Wrocław is in his blood, a city he’d always dreamed about living in, and being connected to. The thought of leading a team here and leaving his mark on the city was intoxicating.

He finished his now cold coffee, the bitter dregs leaving a sharp taste in his mouth. He put the cup down with a quiet clink and noticed his reflection in the mirror. A man at a crossroads, with a decision to make, pulled between current loyalties and future ambitions.

The call from Ślęza had awakened something in him, a new sense of purpose, a hunger for the next challenge. But the decision wasn’t simple. It carried weight and emotions, the kind that pressed down on him as he left the café and stepped into the rain.

He pulled his coat tight and started walking, the rhythm of his steps matching the beat of his thoughts. Wrocław called to him, its streets and stories, its challenges and contradictions. Whether he answered that call remained to be seen. For now, he walked, the rain falling steadily, each drop a reminder that life, like football, was full of unexpected twists and turns.

– – – – --

Set piece coach??