Alex stood on the balcony of his office, sipping an espresso.
"Life is good," he murmured.
"Life is loud!" Mark shouted, bursting through the door.
Mark was wearing a whistle around his neck and a stopwatch that was bigger than his hand. He was also wearing sunglasses inside.
"Mark," Alex sighed. "Why are you shouting?"
"I am the Assistant Manager!" Mark declared. "I must project my voice! The players must hear me from the top of the mountain!"
"They are on the pitch, Mark. Fifty meters away."
"Details!" Mark waved his hand. "Come on, Professor. The kids are waiting. They want to learn the secrets of speed. And pizza."
Alex put down his coffee.
They walked down to the pitch.
The squad was assembled. It was a mix of veterans and new blood.
There was Bukayo Saka, the superstar who had followed Alex to Italy. He was doing keepy-uppies with a smile on his face.
There was Belotti, the old warhorse striker, stretching his hamstrings and grunting.
And then there were the kids.
