Player Manager 4: A Sports Progression Fantasy by Ted Steel

Author:Ted Steel [Steel, Ted]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Podium Publishing
Published: 2024-10-29T00:00:00+00:00

Along the way, I asked Bonnie not to mention the thing about this match deciding the team’s starting point. “They’re under enough pressure as it is. More motivation will tip them over into useless stress.”

“Okay.”

“So our vibe is relentless positivity. Focusing on their strengths, what they’re doing well, all that sort of stuff. Good?”

“Good. But I don’t know their strengths.”

I grinned. “Ask them.”

When we entered the dressing room, the chatter and half-hearted banter stopped. I could feel the worry. The air was heavy with it. Dread. Impending doom.

“All right, shut the fuck up,” I said, into the silence. “This is Bonnie. I don’t want to make a big deal out of her being here, but she’s the fourth most inspirational person I’ve ever met.”

“Who are the other three?”

“Marcus Rashford, Harry Styles, and Captain Sir Tom Moore. Now shush, I’m doing my team talk.” I put my foot up on the edge of one of the benches and accessed my dreamy, introspective voice. “Ages ago,” I said, but there came a series of loud slaps and thuds. It was the sound of Dani catching up to what I was saying on the group chat, and doing her now-famous clap-stomp-laugh. The rest of the team loved it; it was rare.

I paused a few extra seconds so she could reply.

“Dani says you never met Harry Styles,” said Robyn, who was on text duty.

“Tell her that I didn’t say anything back to that.”

Robyn frowned. “That’s very confusing.” But her thumbs were going a mile a minute.

I rubbed my forehead in mock exasperation. All this silliness, of course, was intentional. I made eye contact with a sweep of players. “As you know, my favourite movie is Predator.”

There were a few groans. “Last week you said it was Back to the Future. Before that, it was Casablanca.”

“I watched Casablanca,” said Erin, one of our centre backs. “I’m obsessed with Ingrid Bergman now, so thanks for that. Your Emma has a real Bergman quality. No wonder you like her.”

“I like Emma because she’s a goddess and because when I sleep with her I’m not sure if she’s going to murder me overnight. Er, Robyn, don’t put that last bit in the chat. Write ‘I like Emma because she’s kind and nice to everyone while working hard to achieve her personal goals through the wider, like, perspective of teamwork and self-sacrifice.’”

“I already wrote the murder thing.”

“Her parents read that, you know. Can you filter out the weird stuff I say, please?” I sighed. “Okay. Wrexham are going to play four-three-three. They’re good, but they’ve got some weaknesses. We’ve got Maddy on the right and Dani on the left, and with no wide midfielders helping Wrexham’s fullbacks, I’m expecting a lot of one-on-ones. We’ll see who’s getting more joy and feed that side, yeah? If we keep pushing, I’m sure we can break something.” I grinned, then got serious. “They’ve got good forwards, though, so we’ll have to be on it for ninety minutes. Let the crowd feed you energy—that’s what they’re there for.

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