Glory Of The Football Manager System

Chapter 92: The Morning After I

Sleep was a foreign country. I’d visited briefly, a fitful tourist in the land of dreams, but my mind had refused to settle.

The adrenaline of the previous night: the title win, the celebration, the sudden, earth-shattering appearance of Gary Issott and the Crystal Palace offer was still coursing through my veins, a potent cocktail of euphoria and terror.

I slipped out of bed at six, leaving Emma sleeping peacefully, the first rays of Sunday morning light filtering through the blinds of her Manchester flat. The world was quiet, but my head was a roaring furnace of possibility and fear.

I sat at her small kitchen table, my laptop open, the glow of the screen illuminating my face. The UEFA B Licence.

It was the first hurdle, the non-negotiable entry fee into the world of professional coaching. Gary had said the course started next week. I typed "FA UEFA B Licence course Birmingham" into Google, my heart thumping a nervous rhythm against my ribs.

The first result was for St. George’s Park, the FA’s national football centre in Burton-upon-Trent. It was the heart of English football, the place where the national teams trained, where the future of the game was forged.

The website was sleek, professional, a world away from Moss Side’s cobbled-together social media page. I found the course list. There it was. UEFA B Licence. Residential. Two weeks. Starts: Tomorrow. Monday, April 4th, 2016. Ends: Friday, April 15th, 2016.

My breath caught in my throat. Tomorrow. Not next week. Tomorrow. I had less than twenty-four hours.

The price was listed at the bottom of the page: £2,200. The fee included accommodation and meals for the two-week residential course. I opened my online banking app, my hands trembling slightly.

My current account balance was £3,542.18, a combination of my meagre convenience store wages and the small win bonuses Terry had been giving me throughout the season. It was every penny I had in the world. Booking this course would leave me with just over a thousand pounds to my name, with no job and no guarantee of the one I was chasing.

This was the moment of truth. The point of no return.

go back to bed, and stay at Moss Side. We could build on our success, dominate the County League

plan unfold perfectly. I thought about Jamie Scott’s goal, the look of pure, unadulterated joy on his face. I thought

deep breath, and

my address. My finger hovered over the final confirmation button for a long, agonizing moment. Then I pressed it. The screen refreshed. "Confirmation: Your booking for the

real. I had done it. I was

you just book

in her dressing gown, her hair a mess,

my voice barely a whisper. "It starts tomorrow. In

her arms around my shoulders from behind, and rested her chin on my head, looking at the screen. "Then we have today," she said softly. "Today, we sort everything

the shop, my stomach churning.

be calling, you’re supposed to

said, my voice firmer than

quit. I need you

surreal smile spreading across my face.

longer pause. "Crystal Palace? The football

"Yeah. The football club."

for you, kid. Don’t forget us when you’re

relief washing over

pulsed in the corner of my vision. The system. I’d almost forgotten about it in the whirlwind of the last twelve hours. I focused, and the interface materialized in front

Detected: UEFA

[SYSTEM] Professional Pathway Initiated.