May 5th, 2026

Matchday at the Kybunpark, St. Gallen

After finishing his breakfast at the hotel, Julien returned to his room to review the latest report from Loan Manager Renato Fusco on his laptop. A few weeks ago, he had placed a question mark next to Konrad Faber’s name—who is currently maintaining an average rating above 7.0 at Dynamo Dresden—considering him as a potential squad member to provide depth behind Vandermersch on the right side of the defense. The rest of the day passed quietly. Later, Laura sent a photo of little Louis, who headed off to school this morning proudly wearing his St. Gallen scarf.

The countdown to kick-off at the Kybunpark began in the late afternoon. Julien arrived at the stadium at 5:00 PM. The players arrived an hour later for one final briefing about the tactics he planned with Schmid the day before.

Everyone Julien had selected for the matchday squad was 100% fit.

For the neutral observer, the match at Kybunpark were arguably forgettable, but for Julien, it was a masterpiece tactical discipline. His players did everything he asked from them. Nothing has happened int the first 25 minutes, then the teams started to act as if they were playing a football match.

In the 29th minute, everything has changed. A sharp combination play on the right between Vandermersch and Boukhalfa tore a sudden hole in Basel’s high line. Boukhalfa, showing the vision Julien had praised in training, slipped a perfectly weighted low ball through to Alessandro Vogt. The young striker didn't blink; he burst into the box, cut inside his marker, and buried a clinical shot into the bottom far corner. 1-0! The lead was nearly short-lived. Just sixty seconds later, a chaotic scramble inside the St. Gallen penalty area saw the ball ricochet toward the goal, only to be denied by the woodwork. It was the wake-up call Julien’s men needed. The final fifteen minutes of the half turned frantic. Basel pushed desperately for an equalizer, but every time they went forward, they were haunted by St. Gallen’s long balls on the counter. Gauthier’s side refused to be pinned down, and as the referee blew for half-time, the underdog held the lead.

In the quiet of the dressing room at half-time, Julien’s message was a simple reinforcement of the plan: "Keep the discipline. Don't give them an inch." He knew Basel would come out swinging, and they did, dominating possession for much of the second half. But it was a hollow dominance. St. Gallen’s defensive block remained impenetrable, forcing the league leaders into sideways passes and hopeless long balls. In the 56th minute, he introduced Neziri for Fazliji to refresh the energy in midfield. Ten minutes later, he brought on Ouattara to replace a tiring Fabio Fehr, hoping to use the substitute’s pace to keep Basel’s defense on their toes. These were the only adjustments he needed; the machine was working perfectly. As the minutes ticked away, the frustration on the Basel bench was visible, while the Kybunpark crowd roared with every intercepted pass. When the final whistle eventually blew, the score remained 1-0. Julien took a deep breath, adjusted his suit jacket, and walked onto the pitch to congratulate his players individually. They hadn't just won three points; they had sent a message to the entire league. Gauthier had masterminded a tactical shutout against the very best.

The post-match press conference was, quite frankly, as uneventful as the tactical grind on the pitch. Hollow answers to equally hollow questions. He played the role of the professional diplomat to perfection, revealing nothing of the tactical pride swelling inside him. Elena looked on with a neutral expression; for once, Julien had navigated the media without a single controversial headline.

In the other games of the weekend, Young Boys had managed to overcome Luzern, moving them to within a single point of the league leaders, Basel. Servette, lost against Lausanne.

St. Gallen is now level on points with 3rd-placed Servette (57 pts) and just three points behind Young Boys.

At this moment I've hit continue and a couple of days have passed. See you on:

May 3rd, 2026

Sunday morning, the team bus finally rolled into the Kybunpark. While the players headed home for some well-deserved rest, Julien Gauthier and Fritz Schmid had a different destination. They walked straight to the manager’s office, the silence of the stadium a stark contrast to the tactical battle already brewing in their minds. With the clash against Basel looming on Tuesday, there was no time for a break.

Settling behind his desk, Julien opened the scouting reports and analytical data provided by his staff. For hours, he and Schmid dissected Basel's recent performances, searching for a pattern, a weakness, or a statistical outlier they could exploit. However, the more they looked, the more frustrated they became.

"It’s not like the other teams we faced" Julien said. "There isn't one specific metric where they dominate. They aren't just 'faster' or 'better at set-pieces'."

As they went through the player profiles, the realization hit them both: Basel’s strength didn't lie in a single tactic, but in their sheer quality. Across every position, from the goalkeeper to the frontline, the league leaders simply represented a class above the rest of the Swiss league. They were a team of individuals capable of deciding a game in a split second, combined into a well-oiled machine. For Julien, this was the ultimate challenge. He wasn't just preparing for a game; he was trying to figure out how to stop a force that was better almost everywhere on the pitch.

After hours of intense analysis, Julien and Schmid finally identified the cracks in Basel’s armor. All signs pointed to the league leaders will use a 4-2-3-1 formation with a high defensive line. The data suggested a clear pattern: Basel relies heavily on crosses, flooding the box to create headed opportunities. However, the statistics also revealed a weakness—their efficiency in converting those headers was surprisingly low. "If we can control the air in our own box, we can survive their pressure," Julien noted, circling the defensive stats.

The conversation then turned to the biggest threat: Xherdan Shaqiri. At 34, the former Liverpool star and 125-time Swiss international remains the heartbeat of this Basel side. As their central attacking midfielder, everything flows through him. Julien knew that if they could disconnect Shaqiri from the rest of the team, Basel’s machine would start to stall.

Ultimately, Julien and Schmid decided to stick with the 4-3-3 DM system that proved so effective against Lausanne. They were aware that playing such a disciplined, counter-attacking style at home might not be the most popular choice with the Kybunpark faithful, who always crave dominant football. However, Gauthier was convinced it was the path to a result. The plan was clear: use the deep-lying midfield to suffocate Shaqiri’s space and then use quick, incisive passing to bypass Basel’s high defensive line. It is a gamble on pragmatism over flair, but Julien is ready to trade style for points against the best in the country.

In the meantime, the final result from the weekend’s other marquee fixture arrived. The clash between Young Boys and Servette ended in a  2–2 draw. For St. Gallen, it was the perfect outcome.  After week 34, Julien Gauthier’s side has not only solidified its grip on 4th place but has also moved within striking distance of the top three. With both rivals dropping points, the gap to the 2nd and 3rd spots has shrunk to just three points.

Julien called his family from his soulless hotel room that evening. The video call with Laura and the kids was the cherry on the cake after a successful weekend. There was a new sense of certainty in Julien’s voice as he spoke to his wife. The successful start to the playoffs had given him a confidence that went beyond football. He reassured Laura that the "hotel life" was nearing its end. "After the Basel game," he promised her, "the house hunting begins."

Following the team’s impressive run and their seemingly solid position in the top four, Julien felt a deep conviction that they would be spending the next season—and hopefully many more—in this city. The news of the house hunt sparked an immediate wave of excitement through the small screen of Julien’s laptop. Laura’s relieved smile was mirrored by the children; Camille and Louis could hardly contain their enthusiasm. For Camille, it meant the possibility of a permanent space to call her own, while young Louis was already imagining a yard where he could practice the drills he saw his father’s players perform at the Kybunpark.

May 4th, 2026

Monday morning in his office Julien and Fritz Schmid sat huddled over the squad sheets, finalizing the starting eleven for the match against Basel. While the overall system remained consistent, there were 3 changes to the starting lineup. The biggest boost came from the return of Vandermersch. Having served his suspension, he immediately reclaimed his spot at right-back, providing the defensive solidity Julien so desperately needed. This move allowed Fabio Fehr, who had performed admirably in Lausanne, to push forward into the right-wing position, replacing the injured Baldé. It was a calculated gamble, hoping Fehr could replicate his creative spark further up the pitch. In the heart of the midfield Boukhalfa was handed a starting role in place of Neziri, his physicality deemed essential for the battle in the engine room and the primary task of disrupting Shaqiri’s influence. As for the striker position, the decision was made for them: with Albian Ajeti ineligible to play against his parent club, the 21-year-old Alessandro Vogt kept his place.

As their session ended, the assistant manager suggested it might be the right time for a formal team meeting. He felt the squad needed to be told the magnitude of the Basel clash to sharpen their focus. Julien, however, politely declined.

"Three games, three wins, Fritz," Julien said calmly. "The machine is working. If we start treating this like the 'game of the century,' we risk tightening their muscles before the whistle even blows."

With four games still remaining in the playoffs, he knew that the "most important match of the year" label could be applied to almost any of them. He wanted to save that emotional card for a moment of genuine crisis or a definitive final hurdle. For now, he preferred the routine. He wanted his players to step onto the Kybunpark turf on Tuesday believing that beating the league leaders was just another day at the office—a part of the natural order of their current form.

Just as Julien and Schmid were about to wrap up their tactical briefing, a sharp, familiar knock echoed through the door. Before Julien could even answer, Elena Meçe swept into the room, her expression a mix of professional urgency and practiced exasperation.

"Press conference! Now!" she announced, her eyes already scanning the room for signs of readiness.

Julien stared at her, completely blindsided. "What? Now? You never told me!" He gestured wildly at his club tracksuit.

Elena didn't blink. "When was I supposed to tell you? You should check your emails more often, Julien" She checked her watch with a clinical efficiency. "But I knew you'd forget. Your suit will be here any second. You have exactly twenty minutes to look like a top-flight manager again."

Despite the frantic rush to change, Julien stepped into the press room looking every bit the professional Elena demanded. The familiar faces of five journalists stared back at him, their laptops open and pens poised. The atmosphere was a strange mix of encouragement and skepticism, reflecting the high stakes of the upcoming clash.

The opening question focused on St. Gallen’s flawless start under Gauthier. Julien leaned into the microphone, his voice steady. "The team is clearly on an upward trajectory," he told Juan Felipe Martínez from 4-4-2.com, who seemed encouraged by the answer. "The momentum is with us, and my sole focus is ensuring we maintain this level of performance through the final sprint of the season."

However, the tone shifted when the conversation turned to the league leaders. Benjamin Damaz from ZWÖLF and Sebastian Rickenbacher were quick to point out that on paper, Basel are the overwhelming favorites for the three points at the Kybunpark. Julien chose his words carefully, offering a  reply about respecting the opponent while focusing on his own tactical setup. This deflection didn't sit well with everyone.

The atmosphere in the room, already thick with tactical speculation, took a sharp turn toward the transfer market. Veton Müller leaned forward, his eyes locked on Julien. "Reports are circulating that St. Gallen has intensified its scouting of Severin Ottiger from Luzern. Can you confirm if he is a primary target for your summer rebuild?" Julien felt a jolt of genuine surprise. He hadn't expected a specific name to be dropped. He glanced momentarily at Elena, who remained characteristically stoic, before turning back to the reporter. Julien didn't answer to any transfer stories, and he tried to focus on the game, however he didn't have any plans about this player.

"Not bad," Elena remarked as they stepped out of the of the media lights. It was perhaps the closest thing to a compliment Julien had received from her. "From now on, it’s best if you leave a few of your suits here at the stadium. I’ll see to it that they are cleaned and ready whenever you need them." She offered a rare, subtle wink before turning on her heel and disappearing down the corridor.

Julien stood there for a moment, slightly taken by surprise by the gesture. It seemed that even the formidable Elena Meçe was starting to believe that Gauthier was here to stay.

But there was no time to dwell on wardrobe logistics. In the home dressing room, the atmosphere was already electric. The list for tomorrow’s match squad had been pinned to the board, and the players were huddled around it, searching for their names. Julien didn't stop to talk; he headed straight for the pitch for the final afternoon training session.

At this moment I've hit continue and a day has passed. See you on:

May 2nd, 2026

Matchday at the Stade de la Tuilière, Lausanne

Matchday in Lausanne began with a disciplined routine. The squad gathered for a collective breakfast at the hotel. In the morning they had a rest before they shared a light lunch and went to the standium. When they arrived, Julien led the team onto the pitch for a light warm-up session. It was more about feeling the turf and acclimating to the surroundings than physical exertion. Every single player he had selected for the matchday squad was fully fit and ready to go. No last-minute injuries, no late illnesses.

In the moments before kick-off, Julien kept his message brief and professional, wishing the squad luck as they made their way out of the tunnel.  It was time to see if his St. Gallen side could silence Zeidler's doubts and the Lausanne crowd. As expected, Lausanne lined up in a 4-2-3-1, looking to exploit the spaces between Gauthier’s lines. However, Julien’s blueprint seemed to be working perfectly from the first whistle; St. Gallen dominated the early exchanges, moving the ball with the precision he had demanded. But in the 20th minute, the stadium erupted as Lausanne’s striker, Bair found the back of the net with a powerful strike. Julien felt a momentary knot in his stomach—the "must-win" pressure suddenly feeling very real. However, the celebrations were short-lived. The linesman’s flag was up, and the goal was disallowed for offside. It was a massive let-off for St. Gallen and a wake-up call for the defense. Julien immediately stepped to the edge of his technical area, gesturing for his players to maintain their focus. They were the better side on the pitch, creating more chances and controlling the tempo, but Bair's disallowed effort proved that one lapse in concentration could undo all their hard work. The score remained 0-0, but the intensity had just moved to a whole new level.

The relief of the disallowed goal hadn't even faded when St. Gallen struck back with clinical precision. In the 24th minute, Fabio Fehr—the man Julien had trusted to fill the void on the right—stepped up to take a corner from the left. His delivery was headed out of the box by a desperate Lausanne defense, but only as far as Christian Witzig. He didn't hesitate, spotting Alessandro Vogt lurking at the edge of the area. With a sharp pass, he found the young striker, who cut inside, took a composed touch, and unleashed a magnificent curling shot into the top far corner. 0-1! The St. Gallen bench erupted. The lead, however, brought a tactical challenge. Baldé had to be withdrawn due to an injury, forcing a reshuffle. Julien sent on Ouattara, who took his place and swapped places with Witzig. Despite the change, St. Gallen maintained their composure. For the remainder of the half, they dictated the play, keeping the ball exactly as Julien had instructed in the "Work Ball Into Box" plan. Lausanne struggled to regain their footing, and as the referee blew for half-time, Julien and the team headed down the tunnel with a deserved lead.

He told his players before they headed back out to continue exactly like this. And the players did just that! Just minutes into the second half after a fluid, team play that led through the Lausanne midfield Lukas Görtler, picked up the ball and delivered a great pass to Ouattara. The substitute didn't waste the opportunity, finishing clinically from close range to make it 0-2.

In the 73rd minute. Lausanne’s Ajdini managed to break free on the left wing, surging past Fehr before sending a low, dangerous cross into the six-yard box. Gotbub was there to tap it in from close range, making it 1-2. The crowd at the Stade de la Tuilière found their voice again. Julien reacted instantly. He refused to let the game slip away, making a double substitution to regain control of the engine room. Konietzke came on for Fazliji to provide fresh energy in the defensive pivot, while the returning Carlo Boukhalfa replaced Neziri.

The impact was immediate. Just minutes later, a chaotic scramble erupted at the edge of the Lausanne penalty area. It was the substitute Boukhalfa who showed the coolest head, poking a clever pass through to Ouattara. The winger, having the game of his life, didn't hesitate; from 20 meters out, he unleashed a low, driven shot. The keeper dived the right way, but he couldn't reach the ball. 1-3!

The goal took the wind out of Lausanne’s sails. St. Gallen saw out the remainder of the match with professional composure. As the final whistle blew, Julien allowed himself a satisfied smile. The playoffs had begun in the best possible way.

Baldé, who had to be substituted early in the first half, has been diagnosed with sprained ankle ligaments. The physio’s verdict is clear: 7 to 12 days on the sidelines. He can possibly miss three of the four remaining games.

The post-match press conference was as much about Julien’s mind as it was about the goals. The journalists immediately focused on his tactical fluidity—St. Gallen had fielded three different starting lineups in the last three matches. Julien was calm and clinical in his response: ". Every opponent presents a different puzzle, and it’s my job to find the right pieces to solve it." When the topic shifted to Ouattara’s stunning brace from the bench, Julien’s eyes lit up. He admitted he was "deeply impressed" by the winger’s impact, acknowledging that such performances make a manager’s life both easier and harder when it comes to future selections.

However, the atmosphere turned cold when a reporter brought up Peter Zeidler. They pressed Julien on the Lausanne manager’s pre-match dismissiveness. Perhaps fueled by the adrenaline of the win or a lingering sense of disrespect, Julien opted for brutal honesty instead of the usual clichés.

"To be perfectly honest," Gauthier said, leaning into the microphone, "we aren't exactly friends."

The room went silent for a heartbeat. It was the kind of quote headline-writers dream of, but in the corner of the room, Elena Meçe didn't look pleased. Later, as they left the media center, she offered no praise for his handling of the press. Her silence spoke volumes: in her world, Julien had just handed the media a weapon that could be used against him later. For Julien, however, it was a moment of standing his ground. He had won both on and off the pitch

The Young Boys vs. Servette match is still to be played tomorrow early afternoon, but the table looks more promising than ever:

Following the post-match media duties and the team returned to their hotel in Lausanne for the night. They've only trevelled back to St. Gallen the next morning.

At this moment I've hit continue and a couple of days have passed. See you on:

April 30th, 2026

The final morning of April began with a crisp air in St. Gallen. Julien Gauthier, following his ritual, stepped out of the hotel after breakfast with a takeaway coffee in hand. By the time he reached his office, the cup was empty—a signal that the work day had officially begun.

Before heading out to the training pitches, Julien sat at his desk to scan through his morning emails. One notification stood out: the Board’s briefing for the upcoming trip to the Stade de la Tuilière. Gauthier was still surprised by the pragmatic tone of his superiors. While the St. Gallen board is secretly hoping for a victory against Lausanne, they explicitly acknowledged that the opposition are the favorites for a reason.

However, the "Voice of the Board" carried a clear message regarding the team's identity. They aren't just looking for points; they are eager to be "spoiled" by exciting attacking football (which Julien is not planning to play this weekend) and a high-intensity pressing style. For Julien, this is both a relief and a challenge. The board understands the difficulty of the fixture, but they demand a performance that reflects his tactical philosophy. 

The quiet of the office allowed Julien a moment to look beyond the immediate pressure of the Lausanne match. He pulled up the squad depth chart on his screen, focusing on the Attacking Midfield position. It was a sobering sight. On paper, he had three options, but the reality was different.

Shkëlqim Vladi is on loan from Lugano and he was mainly used as a striker. Then there is Carlo Boukhalfa, whom Julien increasingly sees as a pillar for the central midfield next season—his energy is needed deeper in the engine room, not as a creative #10. That leaves Lukas Daschner. While Daschner possesses the technical quality the board craves, Julien’s gut instinct has been telling him otherwise. A few days ago, he had marked Daschner’s name for a potential summer exit to balance the books or refresh the squad’s hunger. Staring at the screen, Julien opened his notebook and scrawled a note:

HIGH PRIORITY: Bring in 1 attacking midfielder (2 if Daschner is sold).

The realization hit him hard. He wasn't just looking for a player; he was looking for the heart of his future offensive system. Without a new creative engine, the "exciting attacking football" the board demands would remain nothing more than a PowerPoint presentation.

Julien was just stepping out of his office, his mind already drifting to the tactical drills on the pitch, when a resonant female voice pulled him back to reality.

"Pre-match press conference, tomorrow morning at 9:00," announced Elena Meçe, the club’s Press Officer. She didn't wait for a confirmation; she simply paused long enough to add a pointed directive: "And dress properly." With that, she turned on her heel. The sharp, rhythmic clicking of her high heels echoed down the corridor, gradually fading as she disappeared around the corner. Julien watched her go. In a way, he felt fortunate that she hadn't been hovering around constantly over the last three weeks. Her efficiency was undeniable, but her presence always served as a reminder that being a manager was as much about public relations as it was about football.

May 1st, 2026

The next morning, Julien arrived at the stadium with a sense of quiet discipline. As he entered the media room for the pre-match press conference, he was accompanied by his trusted Assistant Manager, Fritz Schmid. As they took their seats, Julien caught the eye of Elena Meçe. She offered him a nod of approval—a satisfied glance that confirmed he had, indeed, "dressed properly" for the occasion. Her silent validation was a small victory before the first question was even asked.

The room wasn't packed. Five journalists sat in front of them, notebooks open and recorders ready. While the turnout was modest, these were the local reporters who knew the club best—the ones who would dissect every word Julien said about the Lausanne clash and the high-stakes playoff race. For Gauthier, the game had already begun; it was time to defend his vision as fiercely as his players would defend the pitch on Saturday.

The first question from the floor was as predictable as it was frustrating. A journalist leaned forward, asking about St. Gallen’s title chances now that the playoffs were finally beginning. Julien felt a surge of irritation. He wanted to snap back, to tell them to focus on the immediate hurdle of Lausanne instead of chasing the title. The table didn't lie: five games remained, and they sat in 4th place, trailing the league leaders, Basel, by seven points. While it was mathematically possible, the reality of overtaking three teams in such a short sprint was slim to none.

'What the hell am I supposed to say to that?' Julien thought to himself, maintaining a mask of professional calm.

He didn't take the bait. Instead, he deflected the question with the practiced ease of a veteran. He spoke about taking it one game at a time, emphasizing that their only priority was the three points available on Saturday. He made it clear that dreaming of trophies was for the fans; his job was to ensure the players didn't lose sight of the grass beneath their feet. By the time he finished his answer, he had successfully steered the conversation back to the reality of the Stade de la Tuilière, leaving the title talk to the headlines.

The focus shifted to Alessandro Vogt. At just 21, the academy graduate had been in sensational form. For Julien, this was a topic he actually enjoyed discussing.. He acknowledged Vogt's work rate and recent form. However, Julien was also acutely aware of the pitfalls of hype. "Alessandro is a remarkable talent, and his progress is a testament to the work done at our academy," Julien told the room, his tone measured. "But we must remember he is still developing. My job is to give him the space to grow without the weight of the entire world on his shoulders." By publicly praising Vogt while simultaneously acting as his shield, Gauthier managed to satisfy the press's hunger for a hero story without letting the pressure boil over. 

The last few questions turned toward the opposition. The journalists were keen to get Julien’s take on specific Lausanne players and whether he harbored any genuine fear of the trip to the Stade de la Tuilière. He spoke with respect for their recent form but quickly shifted the narrative back to his own players' preparations. He refused to single out individuals. As the final recorder was switched off, Julien stood up, offering a professional nod to the room. Elena Meçe stood by the door, her expression unreadable but her posture suggesting the job was well done. The talk was finally over. Now, the only thing left for Julien and his squad was to let their football do the talking on Saturday afternoon.

As soon as the press conference ended, Julien and Fritz Schmid made a swift exit, heading straight for the privacy of the manager’s office. This was precisely why Gauthier had insisted on Schmid joining him in front of the media; their collaboration didn't end with public relations—it was the core of the team’s tactical identity. Safely behind closed doors, Julien laid out the blueprints he had been refining for the trip to Lausanne. He outlined his vision for a 4-3-3 DM Wide formation. It was a setup designed for control and flexibility. "When we have the ball, we dictate the tempo," Julien explained, gesturing to the tactical board. "But the key is our transition. Out of possession, I want us to drop into a rigid 4-1-4-1." Schmid agreed. He understood the logic: the defensive midfielder would act as the anchor, shielding the back four and filling the gaps, while the four-man line in front would provide a compact block to frustrate Lausanne’s creative outlets. It was a pragmatic yet ambitious plan, and with his assistant’s full backing, Julien felt a renewed confidence in the strategy. The blueprint was set; now it was just a matter of execution.

Julien and Schmid finalized the starting eleven.

The midfield had to be reshuffled as Carlo Boukhalfa had to start on the bench because of his recent ankle ijury. Julien needed him for the Basel match. The defensive line also required a change due to Vandermersch’s suspension. His absence on the right flank was a significant blow, but Julien decided to put his faith in Fabio Fehr. It is a massive opportunity for Fehr to prove he can step up (especially as Julien is planning with him as a third choice full back both on the left and the right side of the pitch)  in a "must-win" playoff scenario. With Vogt leading the line and a stabilized midfield trio of Neziri, Görtler, and Fazliji, the plan was set. All that remained was the journey to Lausanne and the hope that these tactical pivots would survive the heat of the Stade de la Tuilière.

 Julien added two critical tactical instructions based on the oppositon report he received a couple of days before. First, he demanded the players keep the ball in play, avoiding unnecessary stoppages and refusing to rely on set-pieces. He wanted a rhythmic, continuous flow that would keep Lausanne under constant pressure. Secondly, he emphasized the need to work the ball into the box. Rather than settling for speculative long-range efforts, Gauthier instructed his creative players to remain patient, looking for that final, incisive pass to create the highest quality scoring chances. With these final additions, the tactical package was complete.

After a collective team lunch at noon, the St. Gallen squad boarded the  coach for the four-hour journey to Lausanne. The atmosphere on the bus was surprisingly light and optimistic; the players were sharing jokes and music, seemingly unfazed by the immense pressure of the starting playoffs. Julien, however, found it harder to relax. Midway through the journey, a notification pinged on his phone. It was a message from Elena Meçe, containing a transcript of Peter Zeidler’s pre-match comments. When asked about facing a "relatively inexperienced newcomer" like Gauthier, the Lausanne boss had responded: "I don't really know what to expect, it's part of the charm of football isn't it?"  If Zeidler truly didn't know what to expect, Julien was more determined than ever to show him exactly what a "newcomer" is capable of. By the time the bus pulled into Lausanne, the annoyance had transformed into a cold, focused resolve.

At this moment I've hit continue, and a day has passed. See you on the next matchday (which we will play on the 3rd - so a day later this time):

April 29th, 2026

Tuesday morning at the club  was relatively quiet. Julien’s schedule was light on administrative duties, dominated primarily by a single briefing. He sat down with the physio, Stephan Oberli, to review the squad’s overall fitness levels ahead of the upcoming fixtures. The news from the medical department was largely positive. Oberli confirmed that the treatment room was nearly empty, with only one name currently on the injury list. Carlo Boukhalfa is currently sidelined, dealing with a minor bruised ankle. Gauthier was reassured to hear that the injury is not serious; Boukhalfa is expected to return to full training within the next 48 hours, he will be fully fit and available for selection for the match this weekend. For Julien, having a complete squad to choose from is a vital boost as he continues to implement his tactical vision.

Julien spent the best part of the day on the training pitch. In a move that has become a trademark of his hands-on approach, he didn’t just watch from the sidelines; he joined the drills himself, feeling the grass under his feet and the intensity of the session. While Assistant Manager Schmid took charge of leading the tactical exercises, Gauthier’s presence among the players served as a silent motivator, maintaining the high standards he expects from the group. Later in the afternoon, the team joined Julien in the video room. However, Gauthier found his concentration wavering. While the immediate focus should have been on Saturday’s trip to Lausanne, his mind kept drifting toward the daunting schedule ahead. With two matches to be played in a week during the playoffs, the looming fixtures against league leaders Basel on Tuesday and second-placed Young Boys the following Saturday weighed heavily on his subconscious. The temptation to rotate the squad against 6th-placed Lausanne was strong. Fresh legs will be a premium in the coming ten days, and the risk of burnout is real. 

Yet, Gauthier quickly dismissed the thought of over-calculating. This match is arguably the only "must-win" fixture left on the calendar. He knew all too well that if he gambled by resting key players and it backfired, his future in St. Gallen would become very uncertain. For now, the match against Lausanne is the most important; the rest will have to wait.

At this moment I've hit continue and a day has passed. See you on:

April 27th, 2026

Sunday had passed in a quiet, domestic rhythm, the only highlight being the long video call with Laura and the children. Laura asked about the house hunting, as she was eager to start putting down roots, but Julien remained steadfast. He wanted to see how the first one or two playoff matches unfolded first.

HMonday morning, he made sure to have his coffee at the hotel before even stepping foot in the office (considering his experience with the coffee machine at the stadium).

He kicked off the work week with a meeting with Renato Fusco, the club’s Loan Manager. The news was exceptionally positive. Gentrit Muslija, the young goalkeeper Julien had highlighted as a potential third-choice for next season, had put in a "Player of the Match" performance for FC Wil. His clean sheet was instrumental in a 2-0 victory, a result that finally lifted Wil off the bottom of the Challenge League table.

But the good news didn't stop there. Nino Weibel had also excelled during his time at Weesen, earning his own Player of the Match award. Furthermore, Julien’s interest was piqued by the continued form of Konrad Faber at Dynamo Dresden. The German fullback was maintaining a high standard in the 2. Bundesliga, further solidifying Julien’s plan to integrate him into the first-team squad come summer. The puzzle pieces of the future were starting to click into place.

After his meeting with Fusco, Julien headed straight to the training ground, spending the entire day with the squad. It was only late in the afternoon, that he finally sat down to check the scouting report on their next opponent: FC Lausanne-Sport.

Two specific details in the report immediately caught his analytical eye. First, Lausanne appeared remarkably disciplined during set-pieces; they neither scored nor conceded many goals from dead-ball situations. Second: while Lausanne faced a high volume of shots per game, they conceded very few goals from them.

Julien leaned back, processing the data. The conclusion for the weekend was clear. He realized that trying to win the game through set-pieces would likely be a futile effort. Instead, he wanted his team to focus on patient, intricate build-up play. "We don't just shoot for the sake of shooting," he noted. He decided to instruct his players to work the ball into the box and wait for high-quality opportunities rather than forcing long-range efforts that would only play into Lausanne’s defensive strengths. Precision over volume—that would be the mantra for the Lausanne clash.

To counter Lausanne’s preferred 4-2-3-1 DM AM Wide formation, Julien’s mind was already set on a 4-3-3 system for the upcoming clash. He felt that the three-man midfield would provide the necessary coverage to nullify their creative threats while allowing his wingers to exploit the spaces behind Lausanne’s advancing fullbacks. However, he didn't want to finalize the on his own. He made a note to bring this tactical shift to the table during the next staff meeting. He wanted to hear Fritz Schmid’s take on the defensive transitions. For Julien, a successful game plan wasn't just about his own vision.

 Julien took the slow walk back to the hotel. After a solitary dinner in the restaurant, he retreated to his room and started watching the Netflix series Unchosen. But as the episodes rolled by, his mind kept drifting away from the screen. For the first time since arriving in St. Gallen, he admitted to himself that Laura might be right. The novelty of hotel life had long since worn off. He was tired of the anonymous corridors, the same breakfast buffet, and the lack of a place that truly felt like his own. But what if the playoff won't go that well - he thought.

At this moment I've hit continue and a day has passed. See you on:

Living in a Real-Time Save

Dear readers! I’m stepping out of the narrator’s role for a moment to speak to you as myself. 

Over the past decades, I’ve spent countless hours with Football Manager. Yet, a 'real-time save' like the one I’ve just started never even crossed my mind before. My original plan was to play this save, report every tiny detail to you, and meanwhile, grind through a completely different hardcore save whenever I had the chance. But guess what? It’s not working...

It’s like supporting your local team: you put on the jersey and the scarf—even in the heat of summer—and walk to the stadium. Whether they win or lose doesn't even matter. You are part of the team, and the team is part of you. St. Gallen hasn't played under Julien for two weeks now, and I’m genuinely anxious for that Lausanne match. 

I try starting other saves, but I can’t even make it to the first league game. My thoughts are always elsewhere, wondering what’s next for Julien and St. Gallen. In other games, I’d just speed through, giving bland interview answers and avoiding player conflicts, but then I think: Julien definitely wouldn't be such a pushover. Since I started this journey, I haven't been able to get past a single summer in any other save.

Maybe this is how the game was meant to be played. ONE REAL-TIME SEASON in every edition. You can’t experience its full depth any other way. I think I’ve found the final save of my life. This is it. And when Julien finally retires, in maybe 20 or 25 years, I might just post a picture of myself here—as a wrinkled grandfather.

I hope you’re looking forward to what’s next as much as I am!

"Je suis Julien Gauthier!"

April 25th, 2026

By Friday night, six applications had landed on Julien’s desk for the vacant U19 Manager position. It was a role Julien took personally; he had insisted from day one that he alone would select the managers for the youth teams to ensure a unified tactical vision across the club. As he skimmed the first profile, his eyes stopped. The name was more than familiar: Nicolas Lüchinger.

Lüchinger was St. Gallen through and through. Coming from the club's own academy, he had played for the reserves between 2011 and 2014 before a stint in the lower leagues with Chiasso. In2016/17 he played for Sinon, then he returned home in 2017 and remained a loyal servant to St. Gallen until his retirement in 2023, though he has spent his last season on loan at Thun. Having hung up his boots at just 29, he had been working quietly as a coach within the U19 setup.

Julien didn't even bother opening the other five mails. He walked straight to the training pitch, and pulled Nicolas aside. Over an informal lunch, they talked for hours—not about contracts, but about theirs philosophy of the game. Julien saw a young coach perfect fit for his project.

"Why didn't you just ask me?" Julien asked with a grin as they finished their meal. "You should have spoken up sooner; we could have had this settled weeks ago." By the time they stood up from the table, the deal was done. Nicolas Lüchinger was no longer just an assistant; he was the new leader of St. Gallen’s future.

At this moment I've hit continue and a couple of days have passed. See you on:

April 23rd, 2026

Thursday morning, Julien was back at his desk, ready to tackle the next phase of his squad audit: the central midfield. It was a crowded department with seven players fighting for their spot, but Julien’s previous sessions had already started to clear the fog. Noah Probst was already a ghost in his mind, his expiring contract a signal for an inevitable summer exit. He then revisited Behar Neziri and Carlo Boukhalfa, whom he had initially evaluated for the defensive midfielder role. Neziri, the 23-year-old Albanian, would likely remain assigned to the deeper defensive role where his bite was most effective. Boukhalfa, however, would be pushed a line further forward. At 26, the German possessed the balance and passing range that Julien felt were better suited for the heart of the central midfield rather than just sitting in front of the defense. He was stiil undecided about Corsin Konietzke's future. Will he be loaned out, or kept around the first team

That left three major names on the list: Lukas Daschner, Christian Witzig, and the captain, Lukas Görtler. 

Julien saw Witzig as a left winger, so he didn't really consider the 25 years old for this position.

The situation with Lukas Daschner was more of a financial opportunity. With Middlesbrough showing serious interest for the summer, Julien was tempted to let the 27-year-old German move to the Championship. Daschner was technically sound—capable of playing as an attacking midfielder and dropping back when the team lost possession—but Julien believed the transfer fee could be reinvested to bring in someone even more dynamic.

Then there was the Görtler enigma. The captain was the undisputed engine of the team, but he was also the club's financial heavyweight. Earning £17,000 per week, he was paid more than one and a half times as much as anyone else in the squad. Julien respected his leadership, but he couldn't ignore the lack of versatility; Görtler was a specialist, not a hybrid player. Balancing the captain’s immense influence in the dressing room against his massive impact on the wage bill was becoming Julien’s most complex puzzle yet. Julien didn't want his other players to become unsettled because of Görtler's wages, but the captain was his best player.

The verdict on the midfield engine room was finally set, and Julien felt a sense of order returning to his tactical whiteboard. The decisions were clear, even if some were difficult. Noah Probst was definitively on his way out, his departure clearing both space and wages for the future. Behar Neziri was reassigned as a primary defensive midfielder, tasked with anchoring the team from a deeper position.

For the central midfield starting duo, Julien placed his trust in Carlo Boukhalfa and the captain, Lukas Görtler. It was a pairing of stability and raw energy. Meanwhile, Christian Witzig will mainly be used on the left wing. The 19-year-old Corsin Konietzke remained the only uncertainty; Julien still hadn't decided whether a loan move or a role as a substitute was better for the boy's development.

The biggest move, however, concerned Lukas Daschner. Julien had decided that if a suitable offer arrived from Middlesbrough or elsewhere, St. Gallen would sell. The plan was to reinvest that money into a new, more dynamic arrival—someone who could seamlessly transition between a central and an attacking midfield role. Additionally, Julien identified the need for one more player for this department, potentially a loan signing to serve as a reliable "12th man" for the long season ahead.

With no further meetings scheduled for the day, Julien spent the remainder of the day exactly where he felt most at home: out on the training pitch. Under the brightening St. Gallen sky, he joined his coaching staff and the players.

At this moment I've hit continue, and a couple of days have passed. See you on:

April 21st, 2026

Matchday at Kybunpark, St. Gallen

St. Gallen - Austria Vienna (Friendly)

On Monday morning, Julien and his assistant manager, Fritz Schmid finalized their strategy for the clash against FK Austria Vienna. After analyzing the squad’s recent performances and the physical state of the players, they agreed on a flexible 4-2-3-1 formation, which switches 4-3-3 DM when out of possession.

The plan for the match was clear and balanced. Julien decided to give the starting nod to the fringe players—those who had seen limited minutes in the league so far. It was their chance to prove they could handle his tactical demands under pressure. Then, for the second half, the plan was to unleash the "A-team," bringing on the strongest possible lineup to maintain intensity and ensure the squad remained sharp for the upcoming playoff battles.

Julien decided to give a rest to only two players: the third-choice goalkeeper, Jordan Höhener, whose future at the club was already decided, and the captain, Lukas Görtler, who needed to stay fresh for the leadership challenges ahead. Everyone else was expected to play their part.

The tactical board in the dressing room laid out the specific roles for the first half. 

Julien took a look at his inbox after the meeting with Schmid. A loan report had just arrived from Germany, and the headline immediately caught his eye: Konrad Faber had put in a "Player of the Match" performance for Dynamo Dresden. Not only had he been a rock at the back in their 2-0 victory over VfL Bochum, but he had also netted a goal—his third of the campaign.

Julien stared at the screen for a moment, recalling the small question mark he had drawn next to Faber’s name only days before. 

Tuesday afternoon everybody was fit. Julien and the coaches met at the statium 2 hours before kick off.

From the opening whistle, Julien was on his feet, his voice echoing across the stadium as he tried to inject some energy into his side. However, it was FK Austria Vienna who took control in the first few minutes. The visitors looked sharper, more organized, and hungrier for the ball. They took the lead in the 8th minute when Johannes Eggestein found space inside the six-yard box and poked the ball home from close range, giving the Austrians a deserved lead. St. Gallen tried to respond, mainly form left wing, but Abdoulaye Ouattara's crosses were consistently off-target or easily cleared by the Austrian defense. As the first half progressed, the visitors' dominance in midfield grew, leaving Julien’s fringe players chasing shadows. Julien continued to offer words of encouragement, but the response on the pitch never came. It was hard to tell if the players simply lacked the motivation for a friendly, or if this was the hard ceiling of their current ability. The "audition" for the second-string players was turning into a quiet disappointment, proving that the gap between his starters and the reserves was wider than he had hoped.

The halftime whistle couldn't come soon enough for Julien. He didn't mince his words, delivering a scathing critique of the starting eleven’s performance. He questioned their professional pride, pointing out that an opportunity to impress shouldn't be wasted with such a  display. For Julien, there were no "meaningless" games, and he made sure those on the pitch felt the weight of their complacency.

True to the pre-match plan, but with an added edge of urgency, he signaled for the mass substitution. The "fringe" players remained in the dressing room, while the best eleven readied themselves for the second half. As the likes of Vandermersch, Okoroji, and Neziri took to the field, the energy in the stadium shifted instantly. Julien stood at the edge of the technical area, his arms folded, watching closely. 

Then, exactly what the nearly 6,000 St. Gallen faithful had been waiting for unfolded. Within the very first minute of the second half, the atmosphere changed; Christian Witzig threaded a precise pass through the heart of the defense to Kevin Vogt, who made no mistake and clinicaly slotted home the equalizer. The home side gradually seized total control. Unlike the first half, the crosses from both flanks were now dangerous, though the most decisive action once again originated from the left. Chima Okoroji put on a masterclass of playmaking from the fullback position, first releasing Witzig in the 65th minute, and then playing a perfectly timed ball to Vogt just two minutes later. Both opportunities were converted with ruthless efficiency, surging St. Gallen into a 3 -1 lead.

The final twenty minutes passed without any further action to be mentioned, as the Austrian visitors struggled to find a response to the hosts' renewed intensity. Julien watched from the sidelines, satisfied but contemplative. As the final whistle blew, he knew he had his answers. The gap in quality was clear, but the strength of his core group was undeniable.

By the time Julien finally headed back to the hotel, it was  nine o'clock. The adrenaline of the comeback victory had begun to fade, replaced by a deep, satisfying exhaustion. Rather than retreating straight to his room, he decided to reward himself for the long day's work. He treated himself to a fine dinner in the hotel’s restaurant, savoring the quiet atmosphere and a meal that was a world away from the "fucking awful" coffee of the other day.

As he finished his wine, he felt a sense of professional clarity. The match against Austria Vienna had confirmed his suspicions about the squad's depth. “Perhaps I need to be even more ruthless with the summer signings,” he thought, staring at the ceiling. The friendly had exposed a harsh truth: the second string was dangerously weak. While the starters flourished, the gap behind them was huge. However, he knew that at a club like St. Gallen, you couldn’t simply stock the dressing room with twenty superstars. It was about finding players who were better than what he currently had, but who were also willing to fight for their spot without breaking the bank or destroying the team's wage structure. Luckily, there was plenty of time to think about this.

Shortly after finishing his meal, he headed upstairs and went straight to sleep, finally drifting off with the peaceful confidence of a man who knew exactly where his team stood.

At this moment I've hit continue and a couple of days have passed. See you on:

April 19th, 2026

The coaching staff had scheduled a light day for the squad, focusing on recovery and much-needed rest. 

To foster a sense of unity, the entire team and staff shared a long lunch in the club’s canteen, the atmosphere was great, it was full of easy conversation rather than tactical demands.

After lunch, he walked back to the hotel on this quiet Sunday afternoon. He settled into his room and finally made the call he had been looking forward to all day. This time, the whole family was there. He recounted the highlights of Friday night, laughing as he told Laura about the "bonding session" with his colleagues and the subsequent, self-inflicted misery of the morning’s coffee.

Then it was the children’s turn. Little Louis excitedly shared stories from school, his voice bubbling with the kind of everyday details Julien missed the most. Camille, however, was more practical; she wanted to know if her father had already scouted out a music school in St. Gallen where she could continue her flute lessons. Julien promised her it was on his list, a gentle reminder that his success here wasn't just about league points, but about building a home for the people he loved. As he hung up, the silence of the hotel room didn't feel quite so heavy anymore.

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April 18th, 2026

Saturday started with a sleepy rhythm for the St. Gallen coaching staff.

In the morning, Julien and Pascal Zuberbühler found a window to sit down and check the goalkeeper situation in detail. The conversation, however, offered no surprises. As they reviewed the performance data and training notes, it became clear that the legendary keeper’s assessment mirrored Julien’s own observations. The verdict was unanimous: the club would not be offering a contract extension to the 21-year-old Jordan Höhener. While the young keeper had been a professional presence, he simply hadn't shown the skills required to push for a starting spot in the long term.

While the decision on Höhener was a simple matter of squad trimming, the other end of the spectrum was equally clear. Lawrence Ati-Zigi, the Ghanaian international, was undoubtedly the undisputed number one. His statistics for the season spoke for themselves: in 31 appearances, he had conceded only 28 goals, keeping an impressive 12 clean sheets.

For Julien, there was no debate to be had. Zuberbühler agreed that Ati-Zigi’s reflexes and leadership from the back were among the league’s best. As Julien scribbled the projected lineup for the next season on his whiteboard, the very first name he wrote down—without a moment's hesitation—was Ati-Zigi. The goalkeeper position was solved at the top; now the challenge was simply finding a reliable deputy to sit behind the Ghanaian.

The role of the reliable deputy was already well-secured by Lukas Watkowiak. The 30-year-old German had been with the club since 2020 and seemed perfectly content and capable in his position as the second choice. His record this season was great: in his three appearances, he had kept two clean sheets, proving he could step in at a moment's notice without the team losing its defensive shape. To Julien, Watkowiak was the ideal professional—experienced, steady, and selfless.

Julien’s planning didn’t stop at the first two names. He knew the importance of a solid third-choice goalkeeper—someone who could step in, should an injury crisis strike. They turned their attention to the club's youth ranks and loan reports, quickly identifying a potential candidate: Gentrit Muslija.

The 20-year-old homegrown talent was currently in his second season on loan at FC Wil in the second division. Despite his team struggling at the bottom of the table, Muslija had established himself as their undisputed number one, gaining invaluable senior experience. Julien faced a classic developmental crossroads. On one hand, bringing Muslija back to St. Gallen would provide a high-quality, homegrown insurance policy on the bench. On the other hand, at twenty years old, another year of starting every week—even in a struggling side—might be better for his long-term growth than sitting behind Ati-Zigi and Watkowiak.

Julien left a note in his file: "Decision pending pre-season." For now, the goalkeeping department was as settled as it could be.

The afternoon was dedicated to a match-practice session on the training pitch.

Once the session wrapped up, Julien and Jonas Maier headed toward the clubhouse for a quick caffeine fix before parting ways. Julien took one sip "This coffee is fucking awful," he said, shaking his head. The effects of the previous night’s gathering at Mario Gilli’s were still very much present; both men were nursing world-class hangovers. 

Jonas let out a weak laugh. "Maybe we should just have another beer instead. Hair of the dog, right?"

Julien didn't need much convincing. They abandoned the coffee and wandered back to the hotel bar, where they shared a few drinks. It wasn't about tactics or contracts anymore—just two colleagues finding their rhythm. After a couple of rounds, Jonas headed home to his family, leaving Julien alone once more. Feeling the weight of the week’s work and the lack of sleep catching up with him, Julien headed upstairs and crashed into bed early in the silence of the hotel room.

At this moment I've hit continue and a day has passed. See you on:

April 17th, 2026

Wednesday morning started in a surprisingly quiet fashion. Julien was back at his desk early, resuming his deep dive into the squad depth. With the team training session scheduled 10AM, he only had time to focus on one specific area: the defensive midfield.

Depending on the system he used, he needed either one or two reliable anchors in the starting lineup. Looking at his options, the path forward became clear. He had already decided the day before that Noah Probst would not be part of his future plans, marking the 21-year-old for departure.

That left him with four main candidates. The international experience of Behar Neziri (Albania) and Betim Fazliji (Kosovo) made them solid, dependable pillars. Fazliji, in particular, offered an extra layer of security with his ability to drop back into central defense if needed. Then there was Carlo Boukhalfa; arriving from St. Pauli the previous summer, the German had shown a level of stability that rivaled even the internationals. However, Julien was already considering pushing Boukhalfa a line further forward, where his qualities might be even more impactful.

As for the 19-year-old homegrown talent, Corsin Konietzke, Julien scribbled a single word next to his name: "Loan?". The boy needed minutes to reach his high potential, minutes Julien couldn't guarantee him right now.

The conclusion of the morning was clear: Probst would not be offered a new deal, and Konietzke would be sent out on loan to develop. This left Julien with a clear objective for the summer—he needed one more high-quality signing to round out his midfield engine room.

Julien decided it was time to step away from the spreadsheets the following morning and give his mind a rest from the future's puzzles. He spent the entire day at the Gründenmoos training ground with his team. He wanted to see his players up close—not as statistics, but as men. Watching them from the sidelines, he was heartened by the atmosphere. The squad looked relaxed and confident however, as the session progressed, a bit of concern started to grow. There are still sixteen days before the game against Lausanne, which is a long time to go without the competitive edge of a match. He knew all too well how easily professional players could drift into a "holiday mode" during such a gap. Unwilling to let their momentum stall before the Lausanne clash, Julien took matters into his own hands. Before the day was out, he had his staff reach out to FK Austria Vienna. He wanted a high-level test, to keep his players' focus sharp. He didn't just want them rested; he wanted them ready.

After Thursday's training session, Julien called over Jonas Maier, the man who had been instrumental in helping him settle in before the rest of the new staff arrived. "Jonas, are we doing anything after training tomorrow?" he asked. The truth was, Julien was starting to feel the boredom of being alone in St. Gallen. "We’ll see," came the reply. "We’ll figure something out, I'll speak with Mario"

To the surprise of the squad, on Friday he didn't just stay on the sidelines. As Assistant Manager Fritz Schmid took charge of the session, the 45-year-old Julien laced up his boots and joined the players on the grass. While he knew physically he couldn't compete with a twenty-something-year-old pro anymore, he still had some tricks in the bag. During a small-sided possession game, he pulled off a few technical flourishes—a perfectly weighted no-look pass and a delicate chip—that drew genuine applause and impressed whistles from the team. This moment of shared sweat and skill did more than any office meeting could; the players saw that their new boss was a footballer at heart who truly understood the game. 

As the session ended,  Julien, along with Fritz Schmid, Pascal Zuberbühler, and Jonas Maier, gathered in the garden of Mario Gilli, the club’s Head of Youth Development, who had been at St. Gallen for eight years. Over a few beers, the barriers began to melt away. The group stayed late into the evening, and Julien could feel the coaching staff finally starting to gel.  Julien took the opportunity to test the waters with Zuberbühler, leaning in to ask his thoughts on the current goalkeeper situation. The legendary keeper offered a knowing nod but suggested they shouldn't rush the analysis over a drink. They agreed to dive deeper into the specifics of the shot-stoppers the following week. He knew that building a winning team started with building a loyal team behind the scenes.

As Julien took a taxi back to the hotel, I've hit continue, and a day has passed. See you on:

April 14th, 2026

After a  1-0 home win against Zürich followed by a 4-2 victory away at Lugano against the odds, Sunday’s triumph had propelled the team to a 4th-place finish, securing a strong position for the upcoming playoffs.

Monday brought a well-deserved day off for the squad. Early that morning, he reached for his phone to call home, but the line just rang out. No one picked up. He tried to rationalize it—the kids were surely at school, and Laura was likely in the middle of her commute. Still, the empty hotel room offered little comfort. After a quiet breakfast in the hotel, the restlessness became too much to bear. Despite the day off, Julien found himself gravitating back to the club’s headquarters; the familiar hum of the office was far more welcoming than the sterile walls of his room.

He spent the morning with reviewing the squad's contracts as he finally had some time to think about the future. To his relief, the foundation of the team remained secure, with only two deals set to expire. Both were twenty-one-year-old prospects: Jordan Höhener, the third-choice goalkeeper, and Noah Probst, a young midfielder. None of them seemed to be ready for the first team, and by the age of 22 there were no time for promises in the Super League.

Julien was prepared to set them both to be released at the end of the season.

His sense of relief was short-lived. As Julien’s attention shifted from the expiring contracts to the top earners, a frown deepened across his forehead. One name stood out, casting a long shadow over the entire wage structure: Lukas Görtler. The club captain was earning significantly more than anyone else in the squad. On one hand, Görtler was the heartbeat of the team, the veteran leader whose presence in the dressing room was invaluable, especially during this transitional period. Selling him would be a huge risk, both tactically and for the fans' morale. On the other hand, such a massive wage disparity was a ticking time bomb; it was only a matter of time before other key players started pointing at the captain’s paycheck during their own negotiations.

Julien leaned back in his office chair, staring at the numbers on the screen. He had come here to build a future, but he realized that managing the present—and the ego of the balance sheet—might be his toughest challenge yet. He needed a plan for Görtler, 

Fortunately, Julien realized that the Görtler situation was a fire he didn’t have to put out just yet. It was a looming shadow, but for now, the status quo held. He could afford to push those financial anxieties to the back of his mind and focus on what truly mattered: the pitch. With two victories under his belt, he finally had a baseline to work from. It was time to look at the squad with a cold, analytical eye. Now, sitting in the quiet of his office, he began to dissect the tactical gaps. He pulled up the performance data, questioning where the team lacked depth and where a fresh face could turn a good side into a title contender. Julien knew that if he wanted to leave his mark on St. Gallen, he couldn't just rely on the momentum of his arrival—he needed to identify exactly where the reinforcements were required before the summer window opened.

His analysis soon sharpened on the heart of the defense. On paper, the squad was well-stocked with six central defenders, a few of whom had proven reliable during his first two games. Yet, as Julien pored over their individual stats and leadership qualities, a glaring void emerged: the backline lacked a true general. There was no one to organize the ranks under pressure or dictate the tempo from the back.  To make room for the transformation he envisioned, he would need to be ruthless. He made a mental note to transfer-list three of them at the end of the season, clearing both the wage bill and the dressing room for a high-caliber replacement—someone who could provide the defensive spark and authority the team so desperately needed for the future. Wasting no time, Julien set one of the scouting team's focuses on central defeders with expiring contracts in Europe.

His focus then shifted to the left side of the defense, where the depth was dangerously thin with only two options. Chima Okoroji had left a positive impression in the first two matches; his work rate and tactical discipline aligned perfectly with Julien’s vision. However, the situation with Giordano was far more troubling. The Italian fullback was earning more than double Okoroji’s salary, yet his contributions on the pitch hardly justified such a premium. To Julien’s eyes, it was a glaring inefficiency. He knew that to balance the books and improve the squad's dynamics, Giordano would have to be moved on. Replacing him with a more cost-effective, high-energy alternative became another priority on his growing summer to-do list.

The right side of the defense offered a much more encouraging picture. From what Julien had seen so far, Hugo Vandermersch was quickly becoming one of the most indispensable players in the squad. His reliability as a regular starter was a cornerstone he could build upon. Furthermore, the versatility of Jozo Stanić provided a vital safety net; though primarily a central defender, the Croatian’s ability to slot in at right-back if needed gave Julien a tactical flexibility he truly valued. Then there was Konrad Faber. Currently out on loan at Dynamo Dresden, the German wing-back was set to return in the summer. Julien decided he would grant Faber a fair chance during the pre-season to prove he belonged in the first team. However, next to Faber’s name in his notebook, Julien sketched a small, deliberate question mark. While the potential was there, he wasn't entirely convinced yet. He intended to keep a close eye on the market for a possible replacement—ideally someone who could upgrade the position without demanding a significant financial layout.

Finally, Julien’s eyes settled on the name of Fabio Fehr. The Swiss player was the ultimate insurance policy—a versatile professional capable of filling in on either flank of the defense. Julien knew exactly what Fehr brought to the table: he wasn't a world-beater, nor would he ever challenge for a permanent starting spot, but he was a reliable "emergency" option who understood his role. Julien was pragmatic enough to realize that a squad player of this profile was essential for a long season. You couldn't realistically sign a world-class talent just to sit on the bench as a backup for the backups. Fehr’s presence offered peace of mind; he was the safety net that allowed Julien to take risks elsewhere in the market.

With the defensive landscape now fully mapped out—from the search for a new leader to the calculated risks on the wings—Julien leaned back, his mind finally drifting away from the spreadsheet. The morning’s work had given him a sense of control, but the silence of the office was starting to feel heavy again. He glanced at his phone, wondering if the distance between St. Gallen and home would feel any shorter if it finally rang.

Having fully mapped out the defense, Julien decided that the three-week break before the next match would provide enough time to check the rest of the squad. To clear his head, he spent the afternoon at the cinema, losing himself in a movie before returning to his ritual: trying to reach his family. This time, Laura picked up.

"Happy birthday," Julien said, his voice softening the moment he heard her. "I know tomorrow will be a busy day for both of us, and I didn't want to miss you."

"Thank you," Laura replied, with a smile. "We watched the match together yesterday. Louis wanted to call you right after the final whistle—he’s so proud of you—but I told him you’d be buried in work."

"Can I talk to them?" Julien asked, leaning back, the hotel room finally feeling a bit warmer.

"Not right now, I'm afraid. Camille is at her music lesson, and Louis is still at football. Maybe tomorrow."

They spoke for another half-hour, the conversation eventually drifting toward their future in St. Gallen. Laura asked if he had started looking at houses yet, but Julien remained cautious. He wasn't ready to commit to new home just yet; he wanted to see how the playoffs unfolded first. He knew better than anyone that a manager’s fate is unpredictable—in football, everything can change with a single whistle. For now, he was content to take it one victory, and one phone call, at a time.

The next morning began with a formal recruitment meeting, a stark contrast to Julien’s solitary session the day before. Roger Stilz, the Director of Football, wasted no time in highlighting the core of the squad, pointing out that Hugo Vandermersch and Chima Okoroji were considered vital members. Julien couldn't help but let out a quiet laugh. He had already started both players in every game so far—Vandermersch had even found the net—and only twenty-four hours earlier, Julien had privately confirmed that both would be central to his plans for the following season.

However, the third item on Stilz’s agenda brought a sudden chill to the room. The Director turned his attention to Kevin Csoboth. The Hungarian international, with 26 caps to his name, had spent the season on loan in the Turkish Süper Lig with Gençlerbirliği, making 33 appearances. Stilz was blunt: he didn't believe Csoboth deserved a place in the future project or a new contract offer.

Julien’s eyebrows shot up. "Why would we even be debating that right now?" he asked, his tone firm but measured. He knew the winger still had over two years left on his current deal. "I haven't even seen the lad play in person yet," he added, leaning forward. Julien wasn't about to let a talent be discarded based on a spreadsheet alone. Before any final decisions were made, he insisted on evaluating Csoboth himself. The meeting had suddenly become a battleground for Julien's authority—he was the one who would lead these men on the pitch, and he wasn't going to let anyone else pick his team.

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April 12th, 2026

Matchday at the Cornaredo Stadium, Lugano

The St. Gallen board is realistic—they recognize Lugano are favorites for a reason, but they aren’t just looking for points. They want to see identity. They want to be entertained. They expect us to stay proactive and hunt for the ball. The supporters are even more conservative, predicting a draw but secretly hoping for a win. They’ve seen what the team did against Zürich and  want them to stick with that successful formation. 

Hopefully they won't be disappointed with the 4-4-2-diamond Julien and Schmid planned for the match. Everything seemed set for the clash, but the final training session yesterday brought a minor setback. Albert Vallaci took a knock during a drill—nothing serious, but enough to keep him out of the matchday squad.  Jésah Ayessa takes his place on the bench, ready to provide cover if things get physical. Despite this minor shuffle among the substitutes, the starting XI remains exactly as posted on the dressing room wall yesterday. 

Julien kept his pre-match talk brief. He looked his players in the eye and reminded them of the of green and white flags waiting outside: over 1,000 St. Gallen supporters had made the journey to Cornaredo to back the team. "They came to see a team that fights and a team that plays with heart. Make sure that when they head back home, they do so with a smile. Give them a performance worth the trip."

Just before kickoff, Julien had to fulfill his media obligations. He was approached by Juan Felipe Martinez from fourfourtwo.com for a quick pre-match interview.

It was the usual dance of predictable questions and equally guarded answers. Martinez probed about the tactical shift and the pressure of following up on the Zürich win, but Julien kept his cards close to his chest. 

Lugano were set up in a 4-2-3-1 formation. The home side started the match. The first few minutes brought home possession dominance, but they failed to create any chances; then, after 5 minutes, St. Gallen broke free and threatened with corners from both sides. In the 10th minute, Neziri played a through ball to Vogt, who reached the line behind the defenders before pulling it back to Vandermersch charging into the box, who fired into the net from 10 meters at medium height. Following a cross from the right, Steffen equalized with a beautiful header from 5 meters in the 17th minute. Afterwards, St. Gallen put more and more pressure on the home goal. Corner followed corner, but they remained fruitless. In the 40th minute, Vogt sent a promising shot that the home keeper could only just push away. Lugano haven't attempted a shot since their goal. At the end of the first half, the teams went into the break with a 1-1 draw.

During the break, Julien sent Witzig onto the pitch to replace Boukhalfa and encouraged the team.

St. Gallen started the second half more actively. The corners kept coming, but they couldn't convert any of them. Then, in the 51st minute, Okoroji played Ajeti through on the right side, who played a low ball across the six-yard box parallel to the goal line. Daschner made it 1-2 from close range. Then Witzig played it out to the yellow-carded Vandermersch, who carried the ball to the goal line outside the box before crossing it to Ajeti, who was successful from 6 meters, making it 1-3. At this point, Lugano clearly tried to regain the initiative, while St. Gallen attempted long passes. In the 70th minute, Konietzke replaced Neziri, and Triboulet came on for Vogt; a few minutes later, following a corner, Witzig found the net from 20 meters with a low shot through a crowd of players. 1-4. Lugano constantly tried to attack, while St. Gallen got behind them with a single long pass almost every time they won the ball. In the last 10 minutes, holding a confident lead, St. Gallen did not force the attacks at all, while Lugano was unable to break through the visitors' defense until the final minute, when Papadopoulos set the final score after a free kick. Lugano-St. Gallen 2-4.

Even Elena Meçe, the team's press officer, cracked a smile before the press conference, which took place in a very good atmosphere. Julien was asked about Vandermersch's goal and Lugano's 26-meter free-kick goal at the end. However, he was slightly unsettled by the question regarding rumors that Daschner might leave at the end of the season.

The team bus set off at 6 PM on its nearly 3-hour journey towards Kybunpark. The trip went great, everyone was celebrating. Meanwhile, they found out the other results as well; St. Gallen finished the regular season in 4th place. It meant they had a real chance for a spot in the Conference League.

Since there was a three-week break in the league and the team had performed brilliantly, they were given Monday off. Julien cheerfully walked to the hotel from the kybunpark. He had two pints of beer at the bar before finally going to sleep.

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April 11th, 2026

Julien Gauthier stepped out of the Hotel one66 at 6:55 AM. It was just a five-minute walk to the club’s facilities no car, no distractions—just the rhythm of his footsteps. As he crossed the street toward the stadium office, his phone buzzed with the early press news.  "End of an Era for Cornaredo." It wasn't just a battle for points or a fight for Mattia Croci-Torti’s job; it was the final farewell to the historic Stadio Cornaredo. Julien wasn't aware of this until now, but he knew it changes everything. It gives a massive energy boost to the home side.

As Julien arrived to his office, he checked his mails. There was one from Jonas Maier. Since Julien’s arrival on April 1st, he had relied on Maier’s deep knowledge of the squad, but the attachment on his screen—the proposed starting XI for tomorrow’s battle in Lugano—but he didn't like it. It was showing no less than 6 changes to the lineup against Zürich last week (including the 2 centre backs). Unfortunately he didn't have much time to think about it now.

A sharp knock on the door broke his concentration. Elena Meçe stepped into the office, her presence immediately shifting the atmosphere. Julien couldn't help but admire her—she was, by any standard, a stunning woman—but her beauty was wrapped in a layer of professional frost that he had yet to break.

"I see you didn't forget to get dressed today," she remarked."We need to go. Now."

Without waiting for a response, she turned and headed toward the press room. The rhythmic click-clack of her high heels on the hallway floor sounded like a countdown. Julien grabbed his notes and hurried after her, feeling less like the head coach of a top-tier Swiss club and more like a schoolboy being summoned to the principal's office. As they approached the media center, Julien mentally shifted gears. Behind those doors sat the journalists waiting to ask him about the fate of Mattia Croci-Torti, and the historical weight of the Stadio Cornaredo.

The expected interrogation never came. Instead of sharp questions about the historical weight of Cornaredo or the precarious future of Mattia Croci-Torti, Julien found himself staring at five disinterested faces. The room was thick with professional boredom. Julien gave standard, rehearsed answers, his mind already back on the changes he planned for the starting XI. He didn't enjoy a single second of it. As the microphones were switched off, Julien stood up, ready to escape. Elena, however, hadn't lost her edge. 

"Don't get too confident just because they went easy on you," on that familiar, icy tone of her voice. “Results speak louder than a quiet room.”

With that, she left immediately, leaving the scent of expensive perfume.

Back in his office, the indifference of the press room was quickly forgotten. Julien met Jonas Maier and Fritz Schmid.

In the end, there were a total of 3 changes to the starting lineup. The 31-time Ghanaian international Lawrence Ati-Zigi remains in goal. At left-back is 28-year-old German Chima Okoroji, with Frenchman Hugo Vandermersch on the right. The center-back pairing consists of 4-time Ghanaian international Stephan Ambrosius and 27-year-old Croatian Jozo Stanic.

In front of them, 4-time Albanian international Behar Neziri plays as a defensive midfielder. Captain Lukas Görtler drops back into midfield alongside Carlo Boukhalfa, while Lukas Daschner starts in the attacking midfielder position.

Vladi, who is on loan from Lugano, cannot play against his parent club, so homegrown talent Alessandro Vogt—who scored the winning goal against Zurich—and 11-time Swiss international Albian Ajeti, on loan from Basel, start in the forward line.

Before the morning training session, Maier quietly entered the dressing room and pinned the starting lineup to the notice board. As the players arrived, they immediately checked it. Ahead of the early Sunday afternoon kick-off, the squad completed a light Saturday morning training session followed by a team lunch in the canteen. By Saturday afternoon, they were already on their way to Lugano.

Saturday's results meant that St. Gallen enters the final match of the regular season with a mathematical chance of overtaking 4th-placed Luzern.

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April 10th, 2026

While Julien spent his mornings at the Kybunpark with the squad, Laura took the children to discover the charm of St. Gallen. Camille took charge of the maps and helped navigate the winding streets of the Old Town. Louis  was more interested in the Swiss chocolate shops and the local trains. Evenings were spent in the apartment they rented for the week, where Julien could listen to Camille’s stories about school and Louis’s latest football practice back home.

On Thursday, Julien invited them to the training ground. It was a proud moment for him. Camille watched from the sidelines, starting to understand the pressure her father faced, while Louis was busy trying to get a high-five from the star striker after a shooting drill. The players seemed more relaxed seeing the "Gaffer" as a family man, and the atmosphere felt lighter, warmer.

Friday morning the Easter break had come to an end. While Julien’s big match at the Kybunpark wasn't until Sunday, the logistics of school and life back in Le Havre meant that Laura, Camille, and Louis had to leave today. The kitchen in their rented St. Gallen apartment was quiet. The excitement of the week—the lake visit, the chocolate tasting, and the training ground tour—was replaced by the clicking of suitcases.

"I'm sorry you can't stay for the match," Julien said, leaning against the car door.

"We know, Papa," Camille replied, giving him a supportive hug. "Sunday is your day. We’ll be cheering from the sofa in Le Havre."

Louis looked up from his seat in the back, already wearing his St. Gallen cap. "You have to win, okay? I told my friends you’re the best coach in Switzerland!"

By 9:00 AM, the taxi pulled away. Julien stood on the sidewalk until the sound of the engine faded.. He took a deep breath, picked up his tactical folder, and headed toward the stadium. The family holiday was over. The Sunday showdown was now the only thing that mattered.

Friday afternoon at the Kybunpark in the manager’s office, the air is thick with coffee steam and tactical sketches. Julien and his assistant, Fritz Schmid, are hunched over the whiteboard, finalizing the trap for Lugano.

"It’s a risk, Julien, but it’s the best way to catch them off guard," Schmid says, pointing to the magnetic markers.

Julien and Schmid have decided to stick with a permanent 4-4-2 Diamond (Narrow), both in and out of possession. No shifting, no complex transitions—just a rock-solid, disciplined diamond that stays compact even when defending. It was late Friday afternoon. The tactical board was covered in circles and arrows, the 4-4-2 Diamond finally perfected. Julien and Schmid were about to pack up, their minds already shifting to the final starting XI selection on Saturday, when a familiar sound echoed through the corridor.

Click. Click. Click.

The sharp, rhythmic sound of high heels on the floor signaled only one person. The office door swung open, and Elena Meçe, the club’s Head of Press, stepped in. She didn't look at the tactical board; she looked straight at Julien with a "no-nonsense" expression. "Julien," she said, her voice cutting through the silence. "Don't get too comfortable with your magnets. Pre-match press conference tomorrow morning, 9:00 AM sharp. Don't be late."  Before Julien could even mention the extra hour of sleep he’d hoped for, Elena had already turned on her heel and disappeared back down the hallway, the fading click-click the only evidence she’d been there.

Schmid chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Well, boss, I guess the Diamond will have to wait. You’ve got the media to feed first."

Julien sat at his desk in the hotel room. He navigated to the pre-match analysis for the Sunday clash in Lugano, and the headline hit him harder than expected: "Sack looms over Croci-Torti with St. Gallen up next." Julien stared at the photo of Mattia Croci-Torti. He felt empathy. Only a few weeks ago, he was the one listed as "Currently Unemployed," watching games from his sofa in Le Havre. Now, he was the "executioner." If his 4-4-2 Diamond worked perfectly on Sunday, he wouldn't just win three points—he might end another man’s career.

"It could be me," Julien whispered to the empty room. "In six months, in a year... that could be my face under that headline."

He scrolled down to the match prediction. Lugano 39% - St. Gallen 34%. The fans and pundits were backing the home side, despite their internal crisis. Julien noted the suspensions—Bislimi and Behrens out for Lugano. It was a massive blow for them as Bislimi started 31 games in the league so far this season.

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April 7th, 2026

Easter Monday was perfect for their hike to Lake Constance (Lake Boden). They walked along the promenade in Rorschach.

They had a really nice day out. They had some street food for a quick lunch and the kids really enjoyed the view of the lake, and the area in general. As the family headed back to St. Gallen, where the first departures began. Léa had to catch a flight from Zurich to Lyon for a contemporary art exhibition opening at the gallery where she worked, while Paul was due back in Paris for a series of meetings. After their goodbyes at the station, the rest of the family—Laura and the kids—settled back into the hotel, lucky enough to stay longer thanks to the school spring break.

Late that evening, with the hotel room quiet at last, Julien’s "manager mode" kicked back in. He sat at his desk as he began delegating tasks for his staff before next morning's staff meeting. It wasn't just about tactics anymore; it was about integration. He meticulously drafted the introduction for the new arrivals—Schmid, "Zubi," and the others—ensuring that the existing staff felt valued while making it clear that the bar had just been raised. By the time he closed his eyes, the blueprint for the "New St. Gallen" was ready to be presented.

Tuesday morning brought another layer of professional responsibility: a recruitment meeting with the Director of Football, Roger Stilz. Julien sat in the high-backed chair of his office, the steam from his second espresso rising as they went through the immediate squad concerns.

The discussion boiled down to two key points regarding the future of the attack. Stilz leaned forward, gesturing to the data on his tablet. First, he proposed extending the loan of Shkëlqim Vladi, arguing that the Kosovar striker provided necessary depth as a regular member of the squad. Second, he strongly advised removing Alessandro Vogt from the loan list entirely. Julien didn't hesitate on the second point. The 21-year-old had already proven his worth by clinching the winner against Zürich, and his consistent appearances under the previous manager showed he was a talent worth securing for the long term. Vogt wasn't just a prospect anymore; he was becoming a first team regular. However, Vladi was a different story. Julien remained unconvinced. Watching the tapes and seeing the two on the pitch, he didn't feel the Kosovar forward offered anything more than what they already had in the homegrown Vogt. Julien leaned back, tapping his pen against the desk. 

"I'm not sure about Vladi, Roger," he said. "If we want to compete for beigger targets next year every loan player in this squad has to be an undeniable upgrade. I'm not seeing that here yet." - so they didn't decide on th Vladi yet.

The string of meetings continued on Tuesday morning with Jonas Maier, Performance Analyst. In Julien’s office, the wall-mounted monitors flickered with heat maps and statistical clusters from their upcoming opponent: FC Lugano. As they looked deeper into the data, they've seen something interesting. While Lugano attempted an average volume of crosses per match, their success rate was  low—hardly any of their deliveries actually found a teammate in the box. Julien and Meier shared a knowing look; the weakness was staring them in the face.

"We force them wide," Julien said, pointing to the flank on the tactical screen. "We squeeze the center, lock down the half-spaces, and practically invite them to cross the ball. If we let them have the wings but own the penalty area, they’ll spend ninety minutes beating themselves with inaccurate balls." It was a classic "trap" strategy.

The analysis didn't stop at open play. As Julien and Maier scrolled through the set-piece data, another red flag appeared. Lugano were exceptionally clinical from dead-ball situations, both in terms of their attacking threat and their disciplined defensive organization against them. "We can't afford to give them corners or fouls anywhere near our final third," Julien noted, his eyes narrowing at the screen. "One momentary lapse in discipline, and their set-piece specialists will punish us. We need to stay on our feet, defend cleanly, and keep the game moving." It was clear that relying on headers or chaotic scrambles from their own corners wouldn't be the path to victory either. 

"Offensively, we have to change our approach. We won’t beat them in the air or by crowding the six-yard box. We need something different—variation, short routines, pulling their markers out of position."

By the time the meeting ended, the blueprint for the Lugano clash was multifaceted: force them to the wings, invite the crosses we know they’ll miss, and maintain absolute tactical discipline to deny them the set-pieces they are looking for.

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April 5th, 2026

To celebrate the hard-fought victory, Julien granted the entire squad and staff a well-deserved break for Easter Sunday and Monday. It was the perfect timing; the pressure of the debut was gone, and the "icing on the cake" was that he didn't have to spend these quiet days alone.

After a long, relaxed breakfast with the family—a stark contrast to the lonely coffee he’d had just twenty-four hours earlier—Julien realized that when he seen his children the night before, he has left his laptop in the office. They made a trip back to the empty Kybunpark. With the stadium silenced after the Saturday night roar, Julien gave the Gauthiers a private tour, letting them stand by the dugout where he had been pacing just hours before.

Afterwards, Julien attempted to play the role of the local guide, trying to show them the few parts of St. Gallen he had discovered. However, with his mind still more focused on tactical transitions than street names, his internal GPS failed him. It wasn't long before the "Gauthier tour" ended up in a maze of unfamiliar side streets. Julien, usually so precise with his directions on the pitch, had to laugh as he realized they were completely lost—proving that while he might have mastered the Kybunpark, the city itself still had plenty of secrets to hide from him.

They stopped at a local restaurant for an early lunch, the atmosphere around the table was great. Louis was buzzing, his eyes wide as he replayed his favorite moments from the match, clearly bursting with pride for his father. Even Camille seemed to get used to the idea of moving to St. Gallen, however she was not totally convinced yet. Midway through the meal, Julien’s phone began to vibrate incessantly with notifications. He took a quick glance and couldn't suppress a grin. One by one, every single candidate they had reached out to had officially accepted their offers. His dream backroom staff was now a reality.

When the waiter arrived with the bill, Julien took the chance to ask for some local expertise. "We’ve managed to get ourselves a bit lost already," Julien admitted with a laugh. "What should I show my family while they’re here for Easter?"

"Of course, Monsieur Gauthier," the waiter replied with a smile, recognizing the man who had just delivered a victory to his team. 

After their extensive walk through the city, revisiting the Abbey District and the vibrant Roter Platz, the family sat down for a relaxed dinner at the hotel. They spent the evening planning the next day’s trip to the shores of Lake Constance (Bodensee).

Julien’s phone rang—it was a call from the club’s president, Matthias Hüppi. He was calling to congratulate him, but not just for the win against Zürich. Julien had completely missed the results of the day. Hüppi’s voice was full of excitement as he delivered the news: Lugano had lost to Sion. This meant that regardless of what happens in the final match of the regular season next week, St. Gallen had mathematically secured their place in the Championship Group. The Swiss Super League’s post-split format meant they were now officially among the top six teams who would battle it out for the title and European spots in the final weeks of the season.

"You did it, Julien," Hüppi said over the phone. "The first goal of the season is achieved. We are in the top six."

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April 4th, 2026

Saturday arrived. Julien was awake long before his alarm, his mind already running through tactical scenarios. By 7:00 AM, he was in the hotel dining room, having a coffee and a light breakfast. Back in his room, he flipped open his laptop, and an email from Roger Stilz, the Director of Football, was waiting for him.It was a briefing on the board and supporter expectations for tonight’s clash at Kybunpark. 

Julien leaned back with a smile on his face as he scrolled through the points. His instincts were just confirmed: the expectations were realistic and mirrored his own thoughts. The Board expected at least a draw but believed there was a chance to "sneak a win." More importantly, they were eager to see exciting, attacking football and a high-pressing style. The Supporters felt the same. While they predicted a draw, that "faint hope" of beating Zürich was everywhere. Julien knew the statistics: Zürich had been winless for 8 games and hadn't tasted an away victory since August. The psychological weight was heavy on the visitors, and Julien’s plan was to use that to St. Gallen's advantage.

"They are vulnerable," Julien whispered to himself. "Pressing football and a chance to end their misery—while starting our own run. That, I can deliver."

The Kybunpark was expected to be near its 20,029 capacity. With the fans giving them a 40% win probability, the stage was set for a massive night. Julien headed out for an hour-long run through the local streets. He wasn't anonymous anymore. Despite being in town for only a few days, the heavy media coverage had made his face familiar for the fans.

"Come on Espen!" a few locals shouted as he jogged past. The nickname, a nod to the club’s historic former home, the Espenmoos, echoed through the crisp air. It was a reminder that he wasn't just managing a team; he was carrying the hopes of a community.

Back at the hotel, refreshed after a quick shower, another email from Roger Stilz was waiting. It was the first "victory" of the day, and it happened off the pitch. Pascal Zuberbühler had officially accepted the role of Goalkeeping Coach.

Securing a legend like "Zubi"—a man with 51 caps for Switzerland and a wealth of international coaching experience—was a massive statement. Julien knew that having Zuberbühler in the coaching team wouldn't just improve the keepers; it would bring a winning mentality to the entire backroom staff. The pieces started to fall into place. The board was happy, the fans were cheering in the streets, and a Swiss icon was joining his project. Now, all that remained was to deliver on the pitch against a wounded Zürich side.

Only a few minutes later, Julien’s phone chimed again. Another email from Stilz. Fritz Schmid had also accepted the offer to become St. Gallen's Assistant manager. Julien’s coaching staff was rapidly becoming one of the most experienced in the league. Schmid brought nearly 30 years of footballing wisdom to the table. His CV was a world tour of high-level football: from the Premier League with Tottenham Hotspur to a dominant era at FC Basel, and even international stints as the Technical Director of Malaysia and Manager of New Zealand.

By late afternoon, six more people had joined the backroom staff, filling the remaining gaps in the coaching and medical departments. Julien decided to go to Gründenmoos (the team's training ground next to the stadium) to watch the U19s in action. He wanted to see if any young gems were ready to be polished. However, what he witnessed was a sobering reality check. St. Gallen’s youngsters were beaten heavily by a clinical Luzern side. It ended in a  5-0 defeat and not a single player managed to catch his eye.

By 5:30 PM, Julien was back at the Kybunpark. The stadium was still quiet, three hours before the 8:00 PM kickoff. He first met with the existing coaching staff. Julien wasted no time. He officially announced the high-profile new arrivals.

"The team is growing," Julien told them, looking each man in the eye. "Schmid, Zuberbühler, and the others are coming to strengthen us, not to take your places. We are one unit."

They turned their attention to the tactical board one last time. No more tweaks, no more second-guessing. The plan was locked in.

The starting XI was exactly as Julien and Maier had envisioned: Ati-Zigi between the posts; a back four of Okoroji, Ambrosius, Stanic, and Vandermersch. In the engine room, Boukhalfa and Neziri were tasked with controlling the tempo, with Witzig, Görtler (as the advanced playmaker/shadow striker), and Baldé, all supporting the lone man up front, Vladi. On the bench, Julien had a mix of experience and tactical options: Watkowiak, Vallci, Daschner, Vogt, Gaal, Konietzke, Ajeti, Giordano, and Fehr.

"This is the team to for today" Julien said, tapping the board.

He looked at his team in the dressing room before the kick off. He didn't need a long speech. He just needed them to believe.

"We’re favourites for a reason," Julien’s voice was calm but carried an undeniable edge. "Go out there and make sure they’re left in no doubt as to why."

St. Gallen kicked off the match. In the opening minutes, Julien's team put them under immense pressure, with the ball constantly raining into the Zürich penalty area. However, by the end of the first fifteen minutes, Zürich gradually took control of the game, trying to create danger mainly from corner kicks. For the first 30 minutes, neither goalkeeper had much to do. Julien stayed active on the touchline, encouraging the team, but the flow of the match remained unchanged. Then, in the 40th minute, the breakthrough almost came: Okoroji unleashed a low drive from 20 yards out, but the ball rattled off the post and bounced back into play.

At halftime, Julien decided it was time for a change. He made two substitutions: Fehr replaced Baldé on the right wing, while 21-year-old Vogt took Vladi’s place as the lone striker. His message in the dressing room was clear: they had to be much more clinical and decisive in the final third if they wanted to break the deadlock.

The impact was almost instant. In the 48th minute, Görtler played a sublime through ball, slicing the Zürich defense wide open. Vogt showed composure, delicately dinking the ball over the diving goalkeeper and into the back of the net. The Kybunpark nearly exploded. 1-0. 

The momentum stayed with the home side for a while. Only a few minutes later, Fehr almost doubled the lead with a thunderous 30-yard free-kick, but Brecher just managed to tip it out of the top right corner. By the 60th minute, Neziri began to tire, and Julien handed a chance to the 19-year-old Konietzke. However, Zürich didn't back down and slowly started to regain control of the game. Julien was visibly frustrated with Witzig’s performance, but with no natural replacement on the bench, he had to find another solution. He opted for a tactical shift to a 4-3-3, which transitioned into a compact 4-1-4-1 in defense. Although no further subs were made, the change worked wonders. Zürich struggled to create any real openings, while St. Gallen began winning more balls and launching increasingly dangerous counters. In the final ten minutes, the home side kept the pressure high, repeatedly forcing the ball into the Zürich box. The scoreline remained unchanged, and as the final whistle blew, the sell-out crowd erupted. Julien’s debut was a success: a hard-fought 1-0 victory against Zürich.

At the post-match press conference, Julien couldn’t hide his joy and sheer relief. He looked like a man who had just shed a massive weight off his shoulders, visibly proud of the result and his team. The room was buzzing, and the questions quickly turned to his tactical masterstroke. Many journalists praised the performance of young Vogt, congratulating Julien on the "masterclass" substitutions that changed the game. 

"The boys followed the plan, and the impact from the bench was exactly what we needed," Julien told the reporters, a wide smile breaking across his face.

After the adrenaline of the press conference had begun to fade, Julien headed back to his office at the Kybunpark to collect his things. He expected a quiet, empty room, but a massive surprise was waiting for him inside. His entire family was there—even Léa and Paul had made the trip. They had watched the entire match from the VIP box, cheering him on in secret. In the whirlwind of his first few days, Julien had completely lost track of time, forgetting that it was already the kids' spring break. By the time they hugged and shared the excitement of the 1-0 win, it was nearly 11:00 PM. The family walked back to the hotel together through the cool St. Gallen night. They spent a little time talking about Julien’s frantic first days and the electric atmosphere of the stadium, but the exhaustion of the day soon caught up with them. Before long, they all fell into a deep, well-deserved sleep.

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April 3rd, 2026

In football, holidays don’t really exist. While most were preparing for the long weekend, Julien was already in his office early on Good Friday.

Maier, the only coach in the backroom staff joined him to finalize the starting XI. The plan had been set since yesterday: St. Gallen are hosting FC Zürich. The visitors haven't won in their last 8 games. The team will line up in a 4-2-3-1 formation. On paper, the odds are in St. Gallen's favor—Zürich hasn’t tasted an away victory since August.

Maier laid out his notes and sketched his "strongest" version of the lineup on the board. Julien listened, paced the room, and then made his move. He made one change to Maier’s selection:

Görtler in, Dachsner out.

It’s a tactical gamble, as the AMC role isn’t naturally Görtler’s strongest suit. However, Julien’s had two good reasons. First, Görtler’s tendency to drop deeper offers much-needed defensive stability in the transition phase. Second, and perhaps more importantly, Julien had just officially re-confirmed him as club captain 24 hours ago. Leaving the captain on the bench in a must-win game after such a vote of confidence? Not an option.

While FC Zürich is one of St. Gallen’s biggest rivals, it’s not really a Celtic-Rangers-like derby.

As soon as Jonas Maier left the office, a familiar sound broke the morning silence of the corridor: the sharp, rhythmic clicking of high heels. It was Elena Meçe.

"Pre-match press conference in 20 minutes!" she announced, leaning through the door.

Julien looked down at his casual attire. "But I don't have a suit with me. No one told me!"

"You should check your emails more often," Elena shot back. "Just this once, you'll do as you are. See you in the press room."

Before Julien could even ask for directions—still not entirely sure of the stadium's inner maze—she was already gone, the fading echo of her heels the only trace left behind.

Awkwardly navigating the hallways, Julien almost literally ran into Lukas Görtler. The captain was also heading to the presser. Good thing I put him in the starting XI, Julien thought with a internal sigh of relief.

"Lukas, could you show me the way to the press room?" Julien asked.

"Sure, I’m heading there anyway," Lukas replied, then added with a half-smile as they started walking, "Didn’t Elena show you? She’s quite the looker, isn't she?" Julien stayed silent, but Lukas continued, "A bit stiff, maybe, but she doesn't mean any harm."

"Not too bad," Elena remarked as they wrapped up, her sharp heels clicking away as she vanished down the hall. Julien headed back toward his office, the adrenaline from the press conference slowly fading.

As the season's end approached, agents were practically lining up, flooding his inbox with recommendations for every type of player imaginable. One name, however, caught his eye.

Julien was looking at the profile of Kalidou Sidibé a little longer. A 202 cm defensive powerhouse currently at Guingamp, Sidibé was entering the final months of his contract. With his deal set to expire soon, he represented a potentially massive bargain.

Julien saved the scout report to his private folder. He knew the summer window would be unpredictable; if he couldn't keep the core of his current squad together, a physical presence like Sidibé—a mountain in the midfield—might be exactly what he’d need to rebuild.

Before the next training session, it was time for another team meeting. This time, Julien didn't hold back. He stood before the squad, looked them in the eye, and spoke with conviction about the road ahead. He made it clear: based on their quality, he expects nothing less than a finish in the top half of the table. This wasn't the generic "happy to be here" introduction from yesterday; this was a challenge. And the players loved it. Lawrence Ati-Zigi, the influential goalkeeper was the first to react. His body language shifted to Encouraged as he turned to his teammates.

"Come on you lot, the boss is right," Ati-Zigi said. "We have the quality. We can finish in the top half!"

Seeing the vice-captain back him up in front of the group was exactly what Julien needed. The connection was forming, and the "new manager" label was slowly being replaced by "the boss."

After a grueling training session focused entirely on set-pieces—corners and free kicks that could prove decisive in a tight derby—Julien went back to his office. He looked at the monitor as a new notification popped up. An email from Elena.

"Not another press conference, please..." he thought. But as he clicked through, he realized it was just a daily press briefing. Elena had forwarded a clipping from the morning sports pages featuring Adrian Ursea, the Romanian manager of FC Zürich. Ursea had been asked about Julien’s recent appointment and what he expected from the "new look" St. Gallen. The Romanian’s response was characteristically composed.

Later that afternoon, Julien met with Jonas Maier once more to add the final tactical layers. They pored over the scouting reports on Zürich, and a clear pattern emerged: the visitors relied heavily on long balls to bypass the midfield.

"If they want to go with long balls, we’ll squeeze the space," Julien decided, pointing to the magnetic board. He instructed the team to play with a higher defensive line, forcing Zürich’s strikers into offside traps or rushed, inaccurate long balls. Offensively, they wanted to play with patience. Julien didn't want desperate long-range shots; he demanded the team work the ball into the box, waiting for the high-quality chances. Analysis also highlighted a specific weakness in Zürich’s defensive structure: they were consistently vulnerable to attacks coming from the left flank. This played perfectly into St. Gallen’s hands, as Christian Witzig had been showing immense form.Witzig was the ideal weapon to exploit that side.

"Focus the play through the left," Julien told Maier. "If we overload that side, we’ll break them."

It was 8:00 PM by the time Julien and Maier finally stepped away from the tactical board. The stadium was quiet.

"So, are we set?" Jonas asked, rubbing his tired eyes.

"We’re set," Julien replied.

The two walked together in the night toward Julien's hotel. They found a quiet corner in the hotel bar. Over a single pint of beer, the conversation naturally drifted back to tomorrow’s clash. They dissected the "what-ifs"—What if Zürich sits deep? What if Witzig gets doubled up on? As they finished their days, Maier went home, and Julien back to his room.

At this point I've hit continue and a day has passed. See you tomorrow with Julien's first competitive match as a manager:

April 2nd, 2026

The next morning, Julien woke up early. After a quick shower, he grabbed a coffee-to-go from the hotel lobby and headed straight to work. It was only a five-minute walk to the stadium, and by 7:45 AM, he was already at his desk.

At 8:00 AM sharp, he met with Jan Breitenmoser, the Technical Director. Together, they reviewed the gaps in the backroom staff. Using the club’s database and Jan’s personal scouting notes, they discussed every possible option, identifying key candidates for each vacant position. The most prominent name on their list was Pascal Zuberbühler for the Goalkeeping Coach role, the legendary former Grasshoppers keeper with 51 caps for the Swiss national team. Julien studied Pascal’s profile on the screen. 

"Jan, if we can convince Zuberbühler to join, we’re not just hiring a coach; we’re bringing a Swiss icon into the building," Julien said, glancing at the "Free Agent" status on the screen. "His Continental Pro License and international experience would give our project immediate' credibility."

In about two hours, they had identified all the potential candidates. Now came the hard part: the recruitment. Julien was reaching out to Pascal Zuberbühler personally, while Breitenmoser took charge of contacting the other potential staff members.

At 10:00 AM, it was time for the first team meeting. Julien stepped into the briefing room, facing the squad and the remaining members of the backroom staff. It was a standard introduction; Julien kept it professional, sharing a few words about his background and his core philosophy: that persistent, hard work always yields results.

However, the response was far from electric. As he spoke, he looked around the room only to find rows of expressionless faces. Some players leaned back with crossed arms, while others stared blankly at the floor, looking bored and completely uninspired by the new arrival. The atmosphere was heavy with skepticism. Julien could feel the uphill battle ahead. It wasn't just about tactical drills or signing a legend like Zuberbühler; it was about winning over a dressing room that clearly wasn't used to—or perhaps didn't believe in—the vision he was trying to sell.

Immediately after training, a troubling thought raced through his mind. In just two days, a crucial match against Zürich awaited them. Mathematically, the team's spot in the top half of the table was far from secure, with Lugano trailing by only a single point and just two rounds remaining in the regular season. The stakes were really high due to the Swiss Super League’s "split" format. In this system, the 12 teams play each other three times (33 rounds) before the table divides. The top six enter the Championship Group to fight for the title and European spots, while the bottom six fall into the Relegation Group to battle against the drop. For Julien, failing to make the cut now would mean the competitive part of his season would be over. 

Based on Zürich’s recent form and the advantage of playing at home, they decided to approach the match with a more offensive formation: a 4-2-3-1. Julien believed that taking the initiative was the best way to make the players enjoy the game, and start to believe in him.

During the afternoon training session, the focus shifted to set-pieces. Julien and his staff drilled the squad on various free-kick routines and, perhaps more importantly, defending against corners. The atmosphere was still tense, but the tactical clarity seemed to give the players a sense of direction they had lacked. Regarding the set-pieces, Julien didn't introduce any innovations just yet (went with the “staff suggestion” option), Instead, he instructed the staff to stick with their established routines. He didn't want to overcomplicate things or create confusion right before such a high-stakes match, especially with a new set-piece coach expected to join the backroom staff soon.

For lunch, Julien stayed in his office, eating a pizza while studying footage of Zürich and St. Gallen. He sketched out potential starting lineups on a notepad, weighing his tactical options for the weekend.

Fifteen minutes before 3:00 PM, a sharp knock echoed through the room. Elena Meçe stood in the doorway, looking as stunning as ever.

"Press conference in ten minutes. We’re going" she said.

Julien quickly threw on the coat he had prepared earlier, smoothing out the fabric.

"At least you’re not in a tracksuit like the previous guy," Elena added with a subtle, approving nod as she turned to lead the way.

Julien followed her down the corridor, the rhythmic clicking of her high heels on the floor setting the pace. He felt a surge of adrenaline as they approached the press room; this would be his first official appearance before the media. As they reached the doors of the media suite, Elena paused and looked back at him.

"Ready, Julien? The room is packed. They’ve been waiting for a new face to grill."

True to his word, Julien handled the press conference with disciplined precision. He flatly refused to engage with questions about the club's finances, transfer budgets, or player salaries. Instead, he directed every answer back to the pitch, speaking passionately about the importance of hard work and his core footballing philosophy. "Not bad," Elena remarked with a brief, approving smile as the cameras turned off. "Not bad at all." With a quick nod, she was gone, leaving Julien to check his watch.

There was no time to change. Julien headed straight from the media suite to the training pitch, still wearing his tailored suit. As he stepped onto the grass, the rhythmic clicking of the press room was replaced by the sharp whistle of the wind and the thud of footballs. The sight of the new manager standing on the touchline in a suit, rather than a tracksuit, drew immediate glances from the squad. It projected an air of authority.

There was so much more he wanted to do, but these first 48 hours had utterly drained him. After the high-intensity session, Julien didn't even bother heading back to his office. He slowly walked back to the hotel. Once in his room, he made an emotional call home to his family, their voices providing a brief, much-needed anchor to his old life. For dinner, he treated himself to a traditional cheese fondue in the hotel restaurant, the rich, melted Gruyère and Emmental offering some comfort after these couple of days.

Back in his room, Julien sat on the edge of his bed with his laptop. He pulled up the footage from the previous home encounter against Zürich back in August—a 2-0 defeat. He watched it with clinical intensity, rewinding every lost duel and every tactical lapse. He could see exactly where the structure had crumbled, and as the glowing screen reflected in his tired eyes, he began to visualize how his 4-2-3-1 would plug those gaps.

At this moment I've hit continue and a day has passed. See you on (tomorrow):

April 1st, 2026

Tuesday morning, Julien was awake before his alarm. After a quiet breakfast in the hotel dining room, his first act of the day was a video call to Laura. They spoke for a few minutes—about the kids’ first day back at school and the quiet house in Le Havre—a brief bridge between his old world and his new reality.

With the rest of the day to himself before the official meetings began, Julien decided to explore the city he would soon call home. He walked the cobblestone streets of the Old Town. He found himself at the St. Gallen Cathedral.

A short walk later, he reached the Roter Platz—the famous "Red Square." Standing in the middle of the vibrant, carpet-like public space, surrounded by modern architecture and the hum of Swiss daily life. This was a city that blended the ancient with the avant-garde, much like the "entertaining football" he hoped to bring to the Kybunpark.

By 2:00 PM, he headed back to the hotel to trade his walking shoes for a sharp suit. The tourist phase was over; the professional one was about to begin.

At 4:00 PM, Julien arrived at a quiet, upscale restaurant on the outskirts of the city. Waiting for him were Matthias Hüppi and Roger Stilz, the Director of Football. The atmosphere was professional yet welcoming, the table set with sparkling water and thick folders of player data.

Over the couple of hours, the three men mapped out the days ahead. They discussed the morale of the squad following Maassen’s departure, and the logistics of the official unveiling. Stilz was sharp, his focus on the technical details complementing Hüppi’s broader vision for the club’s identity. They've also spoke about all the staff members that left with Maassen, and how badly they needed some people straight away.

As the meeting drew to a close, Julien felt a profound sense of alignment. They weren't just looking for a caretaker; they were looking for a leader.

Julien's mind was already drifting toward the training pitches. The walk, the cathedral, and the coffee were behind him. Tomorrow, April 1st, would be no joke—it was the day he finally took command.

“See you at the stadium tomorrow” said Hüppi as they left the restaurant.

At 10:00 AM sharp, Julien stepped into his new office for the first time. It was a minimalist, glass-walled space overlooking the training pitches, smelling faintly of expensive espresso and fresh floor wax. He had barely hung his coat when the club’s press officer hit 'send' on the announcement that had been simmering in the rumor mill for days.

The official club statement was professional.

“Gauthier takes St. Gallen hot seat,” the headlines blared within thirty minutes.

Julien spent a moment scrolling through the initial reactions. He wasn't surprised to see that his appointment had "raised eyebrows" across the league. To the Swiss pundits, he was a 45-year-old gamble—an "inexperienced" outsider stepping into a vacuum left by Enrico Maassen. The local press didn't hesitate to remind their readers that Marc Schneider had been the heavy favorite for the job, especially after he was spotted at the club for interviews.

Choosing Julien over a known Swiss manager like Schneider was a bold statement by Hüppi and Stilz. It was a clear signal that St. Gallen wanted a fresh philosophy. He was inheriting a team in 6th place, currently on a four-match unbeaten run. On the surface, the ship was steady, but the details told a different story: three draws in the last five games suggested a squad that had forgotten how to win. They were solid, but stagnant. Julien looked out at the empty training pitch where the players would gather in less than an hour. He knew the "hot seat" label wasn't just media hyperbole. He had a few short weeks until the end of the season to prove that he wasn't just a "different candidate," but the right one.

He spent countless hours in Le Havre analyzing match footage and spreadsheets of player data. He stood before the large tactical whiteboard in his office, a black marker in hand. He didn't need to meet the players to know their strengths—he had lived with their statistics for weeks. 

With a few decisive strokes, he sketched out his vision. On paper, it was a structured 4-3-3, providing the defensive stability the Swiss Super League demanded. But as he began to draw the arrows of movement, the system came alive. "Fluidity," Julien whispered to the empty room. Out of Possession, the team would maintain a disciplined, compact shape. A solid back four flanked by traditional full-backs, protected by a dedicated defensive midfielder holding the center. Two central midfielders would drop back to create a resilient block, making the Kybunpark a fortress that was impossible to play through.

But the real magic happened In Possession. As soon as the ball was won, the 4-3-3 would change into a  4-2-3-1. One of the central midfielders would push forward into the Shadow Striker role, ghosting into the space behind the Complete Forward. The wingers would stretch the pitch, while one of the full-backs transformed into a Wing-Back, providing an extra overlapping threat.

But Julien didn’t stop there. He knew that tactical flexibility was key. On the other side of the board, he immediately sketched out a "Plan B"—a system designed for facing stronger opponents or protecting a hard-earned lead in the closing stages of a match. In this more conservative 4-1-4-1 setup used Out of Possession, the team would drop into a disciplined, deep-lying block. The wingers would tuck into the midfield line, forming a compact line of four in front of the defensive anchor. This wall was designed to protect the center of the pitch. The moment they regained In Possession, the shape would snap into a dynamic 4-3-3. The wide midfielders would sprint forward to flank the lone striker, while the central trio provided the passing lanes and defensive cover necessary to dictate the tempo.

Julien looked at the two formations with satisfaction. One was the sword, the other the shield. Both systems relied on the same core principle: disciplined defensive foundations followed by ruthless, intelligent transitions.

"Now I just have to make them believe they can execute it."  He said.

A knock on the door broke Julien’s concentration. It was time for his first real test of leadership: meeting the dressing room's heavyweights. Lukas Görtler, the captain, and Lawrence Ati-Zigi, the vice captain stepped into the office. The atmosphere was surprisingly warm. Julien had done his homework; he knew Görtler was the heartbeat of the team, a "Resolute" leader with impeccable teamwork, and Ati-Zigi was the foundation at the back. They discussed the transition, and Julien made his stance clear from the start—he wasn't there to tear down what was already working. He confirmed them both in their roles, a move that clearly earned him their immediate respect. "I need you two to be my bridge to the rest of the squad," Julien said, handing them a copy of his new Code of Conduct. "Tell the boys: team meeting tomorrow at 10:00 AM, right before our first session on the grass. We start fresh."

The two leaders nodded, satisfied, and made their exit. But before the door could fully swing shut, a new presence filled the room.

Elena Mece, the club’s Head of Communications, took a single, commanding step inside. She was striking—dressed in a sharp black pencil skirt and a crisp white blouse that radiated professional authority. She didn't move further into the room, choosing instead to command the space from the threshold. "Press conference tomorrow at 3:00 PM," she said. She didn't wait for a reply, her eyes briefly scanning Julien with a look that was impossible to read. "Dress properly. Not like a tourist." And just like that, without a goodbye or a backward glance, she vanished down the hallway.

Julien also took a proper look at the books. He's just realised, the club is overspending on wages. “That's not what I was told” he thought, but he knew he didn't really need any transfer budget for now, so he immediately moved some resources towards the wages and he was hoping for a continental qualification, to help with the tranfer funds later.

He immediately realized that he was truly on his own; he had no assistant manager, and the faces remaining at the club were strangers to him.

 

His first instinct was to look within. He sought out Mario Gilli, the Head of Youth Development, hoping for a bridge between the academy and the first team. Julien asked if he’d be interested in stepping up as his right-hand man, but Gilli offered a polite, firm refusal. "My heart is with the kids, Julien. That's where I can serve St. Gallen best," he said. The rejection was respectful, but it left Julien standing in a vacuum.

He didn't waste a second. He began working through his contacts, calling coaches he had crossed paths with throughout his career. One by one, the answers came back the same. They were comfortable in their current roles, unwilling to take a leap of faith into a Swiss mission. .

Julien sighed, the blue light of his laptop screen reflecting in the glass walls of his office. The sun was setting over the Kybunpark, casting long shadows across the empty pitch. With no immediate allies to call upon, he opened the staff databases and began to scroll. He wasn't just looking for tactical minds anymore; he was looking for people brave enough to join a "gamble" in the middle of a season. The "hot seat" was getting hotter, and the first training session was only fourteen hours away.

His eyes scanned dozens of profiles, filtering for tactical alignment and experience, until one name finally made him pause: Fritz Schmid. As Julien clicked through the details, he started to smile in relief.

It was almost too perfect. Schmid’s preferred formations—the fluid 4-2-3-1 and the disciplined 4-3-3—mirrored the exact systems Julien had just sketched out on his whiteboard. But it wasn't just the tactical overlap that stood out. Schmid’s profile radiated the kind of well-rounded coaching pedigree the club desperately needed. His "People Management" was top-tier, a crucial asset for a good dressing room athmosphere, and his vast general coaching knowledge promised to fill the void left by Maassen's departing staff. Julien didn't hesitate. He picked up the phone again, the clock ticking closer to 20:00. He needed a partner who spoke his tactical language, and in Schmid, he may have just found the perfect second-in-command to help him weather the storm. The contract offer was sent, and Julien called it a day.

“Maybe I should have arrived a few days earlier,” Julien whispered to the empty room, the weight of the recruitment challenge and the financial reality finally settling on his shoulders. He closed his laptop and made his way back to the hotel through the quiet St. Gallen streets. After a light, solitary dinner in the corner of the dining room—hardly tasting the food—he headed to his room. Sleep came quickly, fueled by exhaustion and the looming shadow of the team meeting at 10:00AM and the press conference at 3:00PM.

At this moment I've hit continue and a day has passed. See you on (Saturday this week):

March 30th, 2026

The journey from Le Havre to the Chartreuse Mountains had been long, but the interior of the car felt peaceful. Since Camille and Louis were both excelling in their studies, their teachers had granted them a few days of leave to prepare for the family’s transition.

As they pulled up to the stone house of the Morel family, Monique (Julien's mother-in-law) was already at the door, her arms open wide for her grandchildren. Jean-Pierre stood just behind her, his face was a complex map of pride stubbornness.

The atmosphere was unexpectedly light, thanks in no small part to the absence of Paul who had called at the last minute, citing an "urgent negotiation" in Paris that made it impossible for him to make the trip.

"Classic Paul," Jean-Pierre muttered as they settled into the living room. "Always chasing a commission instead of a conversation."

While Jean-Pierre spent the afternoon grumbling about his son’s big-city priorities, it actually played into Julien’s hands. The retired teacher’s frustration with Paul acted drew the attention away from the old friction between him and Julien. Plus, the arrival of Léa from Lyon further softened the mood. Jean-Pierre had always had a soft spot for Julien’s sister, and her stories about the art gallery in Lyon provided a welcome distraction from football politics.

On Friday evening, the family gathered at a small, rustic restaurant tucked into the mountainside. The table was full of local cheeses, crusty bread, and a bottle of deep red Mondeuse. As the main course was cleared, Julien caught Laura’s eye. She gave him a small, encouraging nod.

Julien tapped his glass lightly, and the table fell silent.

"We wanted to gather everyone tonight because things are about to move very quickly," Julien began, his voice steady. "As of Monday, I’ll be heading to Switzerland. I’ve accepted the position as the manager of FC St. Gallen."

He was waiting for Jean-Pierre’s reaction—expecting a comment about bringing the kids abroad. But the old man was distracted; he had Camille on one side and Louis on the other. He looked at Julien, then at his daughter Laura, and finally at the grandchildren who were clearly the center of his world.

"St. Gallen," Jean-Pierre repeated, weighing the words. "A historic club. Far from Grenoble, yes... but at least it’s not Paris." He managed a smile. "If you’re going to be a manager, Julien, you might as well do it in a place where they still value discipline and hard work."

Monique reached across the table to squeeze Julien’s hand. "We are so proud of you, Julien. And don't worry about these three," she gestured to Laura and the kids. "We’ll make sure they are well-prepared before they join you in the summer."

The weight on Julien’s shoulders felt manageable. The "project" had the blessing of the family. Camille still looked skeptical, her eyes fixed on her dessert, but even she seemed comforted by the presence of her aunt Léa and the warmth of her grandparents.

The night ended with a toast to new beginnings. Julien knew that in forty-eight hours, he would be driving toward the Kybunpark, leaving the comfort of the Chartreuse behind. 

Aftre saying their goodbyes Monday morning the Gauthier's headed to the Lyon airport. They have reached a crossroads—literally and figuratively.

Laura, Camille, and Louis were bound for Paris, where they would catch the connection back to Le Havre to finish the school term. Julien, however, was looking toward Gate 14: the flight to Zurich.

The farewell at the security gate was quieter than Julien had expected, but far more profound. He hug Louis, who was already asking if they could get Swiss jerseys soon, but it was Camille who surprised him. She stepped forward, her usual teenage defiance replaced by a sudden, fragile maturity.

"Everything is going to be okay, Papa," she whispered. A single tear traced a path down her cheek, but her voice didn't waver.

Julien and Laura locked eyes over their daughter’s head, sharing a silent, relieved smile. The ice had finally broken. Camille wasn't just accepting the move; she was giving him her blessing.

"I’ll see you in a week,"  Julien promised, pulling them all into one last huddle. "Easter and the spring break are just around the corner. We’ll be together before you know it."

With a final wave, they split up. As Julien boarded his flight. After landing, a driver from the club was already waiting at the arrivals terminal, holding a discreet sign with the FC St. Gallen crest. 

Barely over an hour later, Julien was standing in his hotel room in (which was a 5 minute walk from the Stadium). On the desk sat a hand-written note.

"Welcome to your new home, Julien. The Kybunpark is waiting for its new architect. Let’s build something great together. — Matthias Hüppi" Hüppi also invited Julien for a dinner on Tuesday night to discuss the plans for the first few days.

As Julien looked out the window, the reality finally sank in. The suitcases were packed, the goodbyes were said, and the contract was signed. The Gauthier era in Switzerland had officially begun.

At this moment I've hit continue and a couple of days have passed. See you on (tonight):

March 25th, 2026

Wednesday morning had barely begun when Julien’s phone shattered the silence. On the other end was Paul—his agent, his brother-in-law, and currently, his loudest critic. Matthias Hüppi, the President of FC St. Gallen, had finally placed a formal offer on the table. They wanted Julien to lead the charge at the Kybunpark, stepping into the void left by Enrico Maassen.

But Paul wasn't celebrating; he was calculating.

"Julien, you’re letting your heart lead where your head should be!" Paul’s voice crackled through the speaker. "£1,800 a week? It’s a pittance compared to the storm brewing in France. Toulouse is circling; they’ll double that without blinking. Even the Bastia offer had more meat on the bone. For God’s sake, at least let me stall them. Let me squeeze Hüppi for a better deal!"

Paul saw the modest salary, but Julien saw the foundation. He saw a £2.9 million transfer budget and a £210k weekly wage bill—resources that whispered of stability and ambition. In Switzerland, he wouldn't just be surviving; he would be building.

"It’s not about the paycheck, Paul," Julien shot back. "It’s about the project. St. Gallen isn't just a job; it’s a springboard. They have the infrastructure to support 'entertaining football,' and the board's vision for a top-half finish is exactly the challenge I need. If I go to Toulouse and we go down, I’m done. If I build a legacy in the Super League, I’m made."

The silence on the other end was heavy, filled with the unspoken tension of family loyalty versus professional pragmatism. It was a tactical battle of 'what-ifs,' a marathon of debate that tested Julien's resolve. Paul saw a missed commission; Julien saw his future.

"This is my career, Paul. My name on the backpages," Julien finally said, cutting through his agent's next argument. ". This is the right move for the long haul."

A long, resigned sigh finally came from the other end. "You’re a stubborn bastard, Julien. But you’re the one who has to stand on the touchline."

Julien set the phone down and headed toward the kitchen, the echoes of the heated argument with Paul still ringing in his ears. He needed the ritual of the morning to settle his nerves. He was just pouring some coffee into two cups when the sound of a key turning in the lock signaled Laura’s return.

She stepped into the hallway, catching the scent of the coffee. Her expression was that of someone who had already heard one side of the story and was ready for the other.

"My brother just called me," she said softly. "I hear you two were at each other's throats."

"There wasn't much to argue about, really. Paul sees life as a series of spreadsheets. I see a career, a project, a future."

Laura took a sip "He’s obsessed with the financial gap, as usual. But we’ve already settled this between us, haven't we? We’ve always said it’s not about the immediate paycheck. We have enough to be comfortable regardless of the figures on that contract."

"Exactly," Julien nodded, feeling the last of the morning’s frustration finally begin to lift. "I told him the same. This isn't a desperate grab for a high salary; it’s about finding the right soil to plant roots in. St. Gallen offers a foundation, a chance to build something that lasts. I think this move defines the next decade, not just the next year."

Laura stepped closer. "You made the right choice, Julien. You always do when you trust your instincts over his calculations. If Switzerland is where you feel you can truly leave your mark, then that is exactly where we are going."

With his wife’s support, all doubts vanished. The Kybunpark was no longer just a stadium on a map; it was the destination for the next chapter of the Gauthier family.

Julien and Laura shared a meaningful glance. The heavy conversation with Paul was over, but the most difficult negotiation of the day was only just beginning as the kids came home from school.

"We have news," Julien began. "I’ve made a decision. We’re heading to Switzerland. I’m going to be the new manager of FC St. Gallen."

The reaction was instantaneous and split. Louis let out a triumphant shout, his young mind already racing with thoughts of new stadiums and Swiss chocolates. But for Camille, it was as if a curtain had fallen. As they had feared, St. Gallen was at the very bottom of her list—a cold, distant place far from the life she had.

Julien reached out, trying to soften the blow. "Camille, listen to me. It’s not happening all at once. I’ll be going ahead first, staying in a hotel while I get things started. You’re not losing your world overnight."

"And you’ll finish the school year here," Laura added quickly. "Nothing changes for now. We’ll spend a couple of weeks with your grandparents near Grenoble once June hits, and then we’ll have a proper summer holiday together."

Julien nodded, trying to paint a picture of the future that didn't feel like an exile. "By the time the second half of summer rolls around, I’ll have found us a beautiful house, hopefully right on the shores of Lake Constance. You’ll have plenty of time to say your goodbyes, Camille. We aren't rushing you away."

Camille didn't argue, but the silence she maintained was louder than any shout. She looked toward the window, perhaps already imagining the grey waters of a Swiss lake compared to the sun-drenched streets she called home. Julien knew the "project" at St. Gallen was about to begin on the pitch, but the project of keeping his family whole was going to be an even greater challenge.

Now, if Julien were to accept the offer immediately, there would be a press conference at the Kybunpark in thirty minutes—but since Julien is currently in Le Havre, that wouldn’t be realistic. To keep the story moving forward naturally, I’m selecting the "DELAY FOR ONE WEEK" option. This gives Julien enough time to travel to St. Gallen and say a proper goodbye to his family. Let’s assume Julien has accepted the offer, and they’ve agreed that he will travel on Monday to start his new job on Wednesday, April 1st. During this week, I won’t respond to any other job openings or offers; we will proceed as if the new manager has already been officially announced. The timing is also perfect, as the team’s next match isn’t until April 4th against FC Zürich.

Furthermore, I plan to continue the story in real-time, but we’ll pick up the pace over the next few days. Since the Easter break is approaching and I’ll be away for a bit, by April 1st we’ll have progressed in the game to April 8th. This will allow us to catch up and continue exactly as we started.

At this moment I've hit continue and a few days have passed. See you on (tomorrow):

March 23rd, 2026

The wheels of the plane touched the tarmac at Paris-Charles de Gaulle with a heavy thud, mirroring the weight in Julien’s chest. As it rolled toward the gate, he switched his phone off airplane mode. It buzzed almost instantly, but the name on the screen wasn't Paul, his brother-in-law and agent.

It was Antonin Girardet. The President of Grenoble Foot 38.

Julien took a deep breath before answering. He didn’t need a boarding pass or a fancy hotel for this one. He knew the stadium, the training ground, and the man on the other end of the line far too well. The "interview" happened right there, as Julien walked through the terminal, dodging travelers with their rolling suitcases. It was less of a corporate interrogation and more of a tactical conversation between old acquaintances. Girardet was direct: the club needed someone who understood the soul of the Isère region.

"You know where we are, Julien," Girardet said. "We can’t offer you the world, but we can offer you home."

After hanging up, Julien found his silver-grey Peugeot in the airport parking lot. The almost three-hour drive back to Le Havre gave him the solitude he desperately needed. As the French motorway stretched out before him, his mind drifted south, past Lyon where his sister Léa lived, to the jagged peaks of the Chartreuse Mountains. He could almost see the stone walls of his in-laws' house in Saint-Pierre-de-Chartreuse, where Jean-Pierre and Monique  would be waiting with a bottle of Mondeuse and a million questions about when the kids were coming to visit.

When he finally pulled into his driveway in Le Havre, the tension of the "Pink City" and the cold metrics of Gerry Cardinale felt a lifetime away. He walked through the front door and found Laura in the kitchen.

"Girardet has just called me" he said, skipping the pleasantries as he dropped his keys on the counter. "Grenoble is officially on the table."

He spent the next hour recounting the whirlwind of the last 24 hours. He described the sheer scale of Toulouse—the 33,000-seat stadium, the 4th-minute goal that led to nothing but a haunting silence from 24,000 disappointed souls. He told her about the lunch with the RedBird executives, the talk of data and global brands, and how he felt in that world of spreadsheets.

"Toulouse is a giant, Laura. It's a machine," Julien admitted, leaning back against the table. "But Girardet... that felt like a conversation. It felt like Saint-Pierre-de-Chartreuse on a Sunday afternoon. The problem is, the machine has the money. Grenoble has the heart, but they're asking us to build a cathedral with pebbles."

Laura listened, her eyes moving between her husband and the family calendar on the fridge. The clock was ticking. The options were all there now: the Swiss Alps, the Corsican coast, the "Pink City" of the south, or the familiar shadows of the Isère mountains.

The house was quiet, the children finally distracted by their homework upstairs. On the oak table, Julien had laid out four folders. It was time to rank their options.

"We need to be honest, Laura," Julien said, circling the logo of SC Bastia with a red pen. "They were the first to show faith. A two-year deal, £2.6K a week. But look at the table—13th place, only two points above Rodez and the drop zone. It’s a volcano waiting to erupt. If we move the kids to Corsica and the club goes down in two months, what then?"

Laura nodded, her finger tracing the edge of her cup. "Bastia is the safety net, but it's a frayed one. It’s our last resort. Let’s put them at the bottom of the list. What about the others?"

The 2nd and the 3rd place on their list were Toulouse and Grenoble. It was a close call between the two.

"We can't just leave it at a tie, Julien," Laura said, her voice dropping to a whisper as she glanced toward the stairs. "Between the South and the Isère mountains... we have to choose a direction."

The map of France felt like a battlefield tonight. On one side, the Pink City—Toulouse. A massive club, Ligue 1 prestige, and the financial might of RedBird Capital. On the other, Grenoble Foot 38—the home, the shadows of the Chartreuse, and the familiar voice of Antonin Girardet.

"Toulouse is a career-defining move," Julien admitted, looking at his notes from the lunch with Gerry Cardinale. "If I save them, I’m a top-flight manager for life. But I didn't feel anything there, Laura. It felt like a corporate boardroom. I’m a data point to them, an asset to be managed. And that 1-1 draw against Lorient... the despair in the stands was suffocating."

"And Grenoble?" Laura asked softly.

"Grenoble is the opposite. It’s heart. It’s knowing that Jean-Pierre and Monique are just a short drive away in Saint-Pierre-de-Chartreuse. It’s the club that built me. But we have to be realistic—their resources are a fraction of the others. £72K versus £230K at Toulouse. It’s a mountain to climb with a heavy pack on my back."

They sat in silence for a moment, the ranking hovering between the two.

"If we choose Toulouse, we choose the machine," Laura summarized. “If we choose Grenoble, we choose the family.”

"And then there’s St. Gallen," he said

"Where you aren’t just a data point in a machine, but you aren't building a cathedral with pebbles either."

Julien nodded. This was the intersection where logic finally met ambition. "Look at the numbers, Laura. Financially, St. Gallen is on par with Toulouse. The budget, the wages, the infrastructure... the resources are almost identical to those of the 'Pink City' giant. But there is a massive difference that we can’t ignore."

He stood up and walked to the kitchen window, where the lights of Le Havre shimmered against the glass.

"In France, this money is about survival. In Toulouse, with that same budget, I’d be fighting just to keep our heads above water, to avoid the shame of the drop. In Switzerland, however... in Switzerland, those same resources mean the top. We wouldn't be dancing on the edge of a cliff there. We’d be fighting for the European stage, for the Conference League, maybe even more. In France, I’d be a part in a machine; in Switzerland, I could be the master of the clubs fate."

The silence changed. It was no longer the silence of uncertainty, but of realization. Bastia was a risky past, Grenoble a soulful but heavy legacy, and Toulouse a soulless engine. St. Gallen, however, was the opportunity: the rare crossover of professional ascent and family stability.

"This is it, isn't it?" Laura asked, watching Julien’s expression. "This is what we’re waiting for."

"Yes," Julien replied firmly. "The challenge is there, the backing is stable, and the goals aren't about fear—they’re about dreams."

He sat back down at the table, pushed the other folders aside, and left only the green one in front of him. He was no longer looking at the map, but at his phone lying on the oak surface. The decision had been made in their minds, but the final word wasn't theirs to say.

"Now, only one thing is missing," Julien said, his eyes fixed on the screen. "A call from Matthias Hüppi. If the President of St. Gallen dials, there are no more questions. We go."

The phone remained silent for the rest of the night, but the ranking was finally clear. At the top of the list sat the shores of Lake Constance.

At this moment I've hit continue and a couple of days have passed. See you on:

March 22nd, 2026

The vibration of the phone was a direct line from Julien’s agent, Paul. He was speaking on another line  with Toulouse’s Sporting Director. They wanted Julien, and they wanted him now. After a two-minute whispered conversation with Laura, Julien texted back a single word: "Okay."

Efficiency took over. Within ten minutes, his inbox pinged with a boarding pass for the morning flight from Paris to Toulouse and a reservation for a hotel stay, including a return ticket for Monday morning. The machine of a top-flight club was already in motion.

On Sunday morning, Julien found himself sitting across from Viktor Bezhani (Director of Football) and Olivier Cloarec (Chairperson). The situation was bleak: Toulouse had failed to score a single goal in their three matches in March, picking up zero points and languishing in 17th place with only eight games left to play. The mission was clear: stop the rot, find a goal, and stay in Ligue 1.

After the discussions, they toured the stadium. The Stadium de Toulouse was nearly a century old, a concrete giant last rejuvenated for Euro 2016. Its history felt heavy in the humid air.

They had a late lunch where the stakes were raised even higher. Gerry Cardinale, representing RedBird Capital—the same powerhouse that owns AC Milan—joined them. The conversation shifted to global branding and ROI. While the project was undeniably massive, Julien felt a disconnect. Cardinale was a titan of industry, but to him, the club felt more like an asset on a balance sheet than a living, breathing community.

The late lunch wasn't the end of the day. Instead, it bled directly into the matchday tension. At 5:15 PM, Julien found himself in the director's box, sitting alongside Viktor Bezhani and the RedBird representatives to watch a desperate struggle: Toulouse FC vs. FC Lorient, the bottom-placed side in Ligue 1.

The atmosphere in the Stadium de Toulouse was electric but fragile. When the home side took the lead in only the 4th minute, the roar of the crowd felt like a rebirth. For a moment, the crisis seemed manageable. But the hope was short-lived. Early in the second half, Lorient clawed back an equalizer, and the air seemed to vanish from the stadium.

As the final whistle blew on a -1-1 draw—a result that felt like a crushing defeat—the silence was deafening. 24,000 fans left the stadium in the cooling evening air, heads bowed in resignation. Julien watched them from above, feeling the tangible weight of their despair. This wasn't just a club; it was a community on the brink of a breakdown.

After the suit-and-tie formalities ended, Julien finally stepped away. He needed to clear his head. He walked along the Garonne river as the "Pink City" began to glow under the twilight. The terracotta bricks were beautiful, but the tension of the match still hummed in his veins.

He pulled out his phone and called Laura.

"I just watched them play, Laura," he said, his voice low. "They took the lead early, but they couldn't hold it. 24,000 people went home in total silence. It’s heavy here. The project is massive, the stadium is historic, but... Cardinale and the owners? I didn't find them sympathetic. It’s all spreadsheets and metrics to them, while the fans are grieving on the streets."

He paused, looking at his reflection in the dark water. It’s a different world from St. Gallen.

When he got back to the hotel, Julien didn't even turn on the TV. He fell into a deep sleep by 9:00 PM, knowing that the 7:00 AM flight back to Paris would bring him one step closer to a decision he still wasn't ready to make.

At this moment I've hit continue and one day has passed. See you on:

March 21st, 2026

Saturday, March 21st, began with a different kind of mission. By 8:30 AM, the Gauthier household was prepared for a family day out. The plan was simple: a one-hour drive to the Cerza Zoo near Lisieux to give the children some much-needed distraction from the recent tension. By 9:00 AM, everyone was buckled into the silver-grey Peugeot 5008, and Julien was just pulling out of the driveway when his phone rang.

He recognized the number instantly. It was Claude Ferrandi, the President of SC Bastia.

Julien felt a knot tighten in his stomach. He pulled the Peugeot into a small parking pocket a few hundred meters from the house, excused himself to a curious-looking Laura, and stepped out into the crisp morning air. He took a breath and returned the call.

The offer was formal and direct: a two-year contract worth £2.6K per week to take over the managerial reins at the Stade Armand-Cesari. Ferrandi was convincing; he spoke of Julien as the "ideal person" to replace Réginald Ray and lead the club's fight for survival. He laid out the vision—a £775,000 transfer budget and a weekly wage structure of £55K. The primary objective was clear and daunting: avoid relegation from Ligue 2 BKT at all costs.

Julien listened intently, his eyes fixed on the horizon. He thanked the President politely for the immense trust, but he didn't say yes. Instead, he asked for a week to consider the proposal, citing the need to discuss such a significant move with his family.

When Julien climbed back into the car, the silence was heavy, broken only by the hum of the Peugeot’s engine. He looked at Laura, then turned slightly toward the back seat to share the news. He was careful with his words—he knew the weight this carried. He explained that Bastia had officially offered him the job.

The reaction from the back seat was instantaneous and divided.

"But Dad, that’s amazing!" Louis beamed, his eyes widening with excitement. "Corsica is beautiful! And the weather there is great, not like this grey rain in Le Havre. Imagine the beaches!" To a young boy, the move sounded like a permanent summer vacation.

Camille, however, looked as though she had been struck. Her expression shifted from curiosity to cold realization in a heartbeat. "You can’t do this!" she protested, her voice trembling slightly. "What about my life here? What about my friends? You’re going to take me away from everything just for a football club?"

"Everyone, calm down," Julien intervened, his voice firm but gentle as he pulled back onto the road. "I haven't accepted anything. It’s just an offer, and we have a lot to think about before any decisions are made."

To shift the mood, Julien began to recount his experiences from the previous day in St. Gallen. He described the sheer professionalism of the Swiss—how they had welcomed him, the pristine state of the facilities, and the overall sense of order. He was honest with them: Grenoble remained a dream, and St. Gallen felt like a significant step up. If another opportunity arose in the next week or two, he admitted, they would almost certainly choose it over the uncertainty of Corsica.

"Switzerland? That’s even better!" Louis said with excitement. "But... do they even speak French there?" He paused for a second, then dismissed his own concern with a shrug. "It doesn't matter! We'll be skiing all the time anyway!"

Camille, however, wasn't so easily swayed by the prospect of snow. "If we have to move, I’d rather have Corsica," she countered, crossing her arms. "At least there’s a sea there!"

The debate between the slopes and the shore continued for nearly half the journey, a ping-pong match of childhood preferences. Throughout it all, Laura remained silent, but a small, knowing smile played on her lips as she watched the Normandy landscape roll by. Eventually, the talk of football and geography faded, replaced by the mounting anticipation of the zoo. The children began to argue over which animals to visit first, their worries about the future temporarily eclipsed by the promise of lions and giraffes.

As the Peugeot cruised toward Cerza, the tension in the car finally began to lift. For a few hours at least, Julien could just be a father, even if the weight of two very different futures was still riding in the passenger seat.

As they pulled into the parking lot, the children were already pressed against the windows, scanning the horizon for the first signs of wildlife. Julien cut the engine, but for a moment, his hands remained gripped tightly around the steering wheel.

They stepped out. The crisp Normandy wind immediately bit through their coats, but the children's energy was infectious. Louis was already tugging at Camille’s sleeve, pulling her toward the entrance, and Camille, forgetting her earlier protest, began to laugh as she tried to keep pace with him. Julien waited for Laura.

After all, football is just one of many factors when someone has multiple options, Julien thought as he walked, holding Laura's hand and watching the children run toward the ticket office. In that fleeting moment, 4-3-3 formations, high-press triggers, and Corsican relegation battles felt entirely irrelevant. He wasn't a manager under pressure; he was just a father wanting to see the look on his children's faces when they saw the polar bears for the first time.

The rest of the day passed in a strange duality. The vast, open spaces of Cerza and the sight of the wild animals were meant to bring peace, but Julien’s mind refused to settle. Watching a lone wolf pacing its enclosure, he couldn't help but think of Bastia: the fight for survival, the feeling of being trapped on a sinking ship. Yet, when they sat for coffee in the modern visitor center, the pristine professionalism of St. Gallen flashed through his mind.

By late afternoon, the family was exhausted. On the drive home, Louis "pretended" to fall asleep within the first ten miles, while Camille stared out the window with her headphones on, lost in her own world.

That evening, once the house had grown quiet and the children were upstairs, Julien and Laura remained in the kitchen. He sat at the table with a glass of red wine and his notebook, where he had scribbled the details of the Bastia offer: £2.6K per week, £775K transfer budget. On paper, it was respectable.

"It’s not about the money, is it?" Laura asked softly, watching him from across the table.

Julien sighed, leaning back. "No. It’s about the direction. Bastia is a firefighting job. If I save them, I’m a hero. If we go down, my career stalls before it truly begins. Switzerland... that’s building something. Stability."

"And Grenoble?" Laura’s voice was gentle, but the question hung heavy in the air.

"Grenoble is home," Julien replied, his gaze drifting to the dark reflection in the window. "But home sometimes feels too far away."

Before Laura could respond, Julien’s phone buzzed on the table. It wasn't a call, but a notification. An email had arrived, and the sender wasn't from Corsica or Switzerland. Julien felt his pulse quicken. Another piece had moved on the chessboard, and the weekend’s fragile peace vanished in an instant.

"What is it?" Laura asked, noticing the shift in his expression.

Julien looked up, his voice steady but low. "It looks like there’s a fourth path."

At this moment I've hit continue and one day has passed. See you on:

March 20th, 2026

By the evening of Thursday, the air in the house felt thick with unspoken calculations. The past few days had been a whirlwind of long, often circular conversations. Julien couldn’t deny it—if he followed his heart and logic, the familiar comfort of Grenoble or the prestige of St. Gallen sat much higher on his list than a survival scrap in Corsica. And then there was still that hope of a french/german top-flight opportunity, a shadow he hadn’t quite let go of.

He and Laura had finally reached a fragile truce: even if the Bastia offer moved forward, they would stall. They would wait until the very last possible moment, hoping for a sign from elsewhere.

That sign arrived on Thursday evening from Julien's agent. Matthias Hüppi, the President of St. Gallen, had officially reached out to offer an interview. The news changed the atmosphere in the Gauthier household instantly. This wasn't just another escape route; it was a genuine step up. St. Gallen wasn't just a stable club; they were currently fighting for European qualification, almost certain to finish in the top half of the Swiss Super League.

The appeal was immediate. Beyond the professional challenge, the geography itself spoke to Julien’s soul. Nestled near the Swiss Alps, the city’s scale and stunning mountain backdrop felt hauntingly similar to Grenoble. It offered the elite infrastructure and first-rate conditions that Julien craved, but with a sense of "home" that Bastia simply couldn't provide.

By Friday morning, Julien was already on the move. There was no time for hesitation. He caught an early flight, his mind racing through tactical setups and squad depth charts. When he landed, the transition was seamless—a hallmark of Swiss precision. A driver sent by the club was already waiting for him at the arrivals terminal, holding a discreet sign.

As the car glided through the pristine landscape toward the meeting, Julien looked out at the peaks. The efficiency of the arrangements, the professional silence of the driver, and the sheer quality of the facilities they passed on the way to the stadium made a deep impression. This was a club that operated at a high level. By the time they pulled up to the club's headquarters where Matthias Hüppi was waiting, Julien felt a surge of genuine conviction.

The interview with Matthias Hüppi surpassed all of Julien’s expectations. It wasn't just the professional prestige; it was the depth of the conversation. Unlike the hurried, ten-minute phone calls with relegation-threatened Ligue 2 side Bastia, this was an elite-level summit. They spoke for hours about footballing philosophy, youth development, and the club’s European ambitions. Julien found the President to be a man of immense character—someone who didn't just want a coach, but a partner in a long-term project.

After the formal discussion, Julien was given a tour of the stadium and the training ground. The infrastructure was impeccable; every blade of grass seemed to be in its perfect place, reflecting the Swiss commitment to excellence. Following a quiet, professional lunch where they finalized the technical details of the vision, the same driver was waiting to bring him back to the airport. The seamlessness of the day made the Bastia option feel like a distant, fading memory.

By the time Julien finally stepped through his front door in Le Havre, the house was silent. The children were already asleep. Laura was still awake, waiting for him in the soft glow of the kitchen light. They had already exchanged a dozen messages throughout the afternoon, but seeing each other in person brought a different kind of gravity to the situation.

Julien dropped his bag, the fatigue of the travel and the emotional weight of the interview finally catching up to him. He looked at Laura, seeing the mixture of hope and exhaustion in her eyes.

"The facilities, Laura... it's exactly what we talked about,"

"I know," she whispered back. "But you're exhausted. Let’s not decide everything tonight."

"Tomorrow. We’ll continue tomorrow," Julien agreed. They headed upstairs in silence.

At this moment I've hit continue and one day has passed. See you on:

March 17th, 2026

The meeting with Nico had been exactly what Julien needed—a chance to step away from the football news and simply enjoy the company of an old friend. However, their conversation was sobering. From Nico, Julien gathered that the atmosphere at the Stade des Alpes remained settled; the board’s confidence in Vahirua was currently unshakable. For now, the door to Grenoble, a place that held so many memories and a sense of safety for the family, was shut.

By Sunday, the Gauthier family had packed their bags and made the trek back to Le Havre. The beginning of the following week was really quiet.. However, that silence was shattered on the morning of the 17th by a phone call originating from a Corsican area code.

It was Claude Ferrandi, the President of SC Bastia.

The conversation lasted barely thirty minutes, but the intent was clear. Ferrandi wanted an interview. The President’s tone suggested urgency; the club was flirting with the relegation zone, and they were looking for a character capable of galvanizing a fractured dressing room. When Laura returned home after finishing her morning errands, she found Julien practically glowing with the news.

"Laura, it was Bastia! Ferrandi, their president called me for an interview," Julien told her, unable to hide his excitement.

The reaction, however, was not the one he had hoped for. Laura stopped mid-sentence, her expression cooling instantly. Of the three potential paths they had discussed previously, this was the one she favored the least.

"Bastia, Julien? Really?" she asked, leaning against the kitchen counter. "It might still be France on paper, but you know as well as I do it feels like another world. Coming back from Switzerland or even Northern Italy would be simple. But from the island? It’s a logistical nightmare for us."

Julien stepped closer, trying to soften her stance with reality. "But Laura, we have to be realistic. I talked to Nico on Saturday. He made it clear. Vahirua has the full backing of the board there. That door is closed for now."

He paused, searching for a spark of interest in her eyes. "Look at the project. The shores of Corsica are beautiful, and the fans are some of the most passionate in the country. It would be a massive challenge to keep this team up, exactly the kind of test I need right now. It's a real job, Laura."

Laura simply looked at him, a silence falling between them that felt heavier than any tactical debate. She turned away to continue her tasks, leaving the words hanging in the air.

No other interesting benches had opened up over the last weekend, leaving Julien with few alternatives. He held no grudge against Laura—he truly understood her anxieties about the isolation of the island—but he kept his own counsel. Secretly, he was still hoping for a call from Toulouse or Hamburg, though he hadn't dared to mention his interest in these positions to anyone since. Despite the domestic tension, Ferrandi had left a positive impression on him; the President seemed like a sympathetic figure, and they had found common ground on the idea of seeking a parent club to help achieve Bastia’s long-term goals. For Julien, the spark of ambition was already beginning to outweigh the logistical fears.

The wait had officially begun.

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