Coach Juninho, the main reason I'm here is because our channel DDTV5 is about to launch a new program called World Football."
Duan Xuan, clearly excited, shook Juninho D'Alessandro's hand. "Since you're one of us, the higher-ups requested that I conduct an exclusive interview with you. It'll be aired alongside the program."
"We want more fans back home to know that there's a young Chinese-Brazilian coach making waves in England."
Juninho nodded with a calm smile. "Of course."
He understood exactly what this meant. Football was a global language, and appearing on World Football was a golden opportunity—not just for him, but for Morecambe FC.
Although the domestic football scene in China was struggling, the market was still massive. Many top European clubs had already begun tapping into Asia for commercial benefits.
So why not Morecambe?
Unlike those clubs, Morecambe had a genuine connection—Juninho himself. A coach with mixed heritage who could resonate with both Chinese and Brazilian fans. That cultural bridge could make Morecambe more relatable and more supported than ever.
"We looked into your schedule," Duan Xuan continued. "You've got a League Cup match against Lincoln City tomorrow, right?"
He smiled. "We'd like to do a full-day vlog-style shoot. Capture everything about a matchday—how the team prepares, how you manage them. What do you think?"
His tone remained polite, both as a professional host and as someone who genuinely admired Juninho. To achieve so much at such a young age was impressive in any part of the world.
"No problem," Juninho said with a nod. "You all should get some rest at the hotel tonight. Kickoff's at eleven tomorrow—it's an early start."
"Perfect. Thanks, Coach Juninho!" Duan Xuan grinned and departed with the crew.
Juninho waited a few minutes before leaving the office himself. He had just finished reviewing Lincoln City's tactics.
Though they were a League Two side, he didn't plan to take them lightly.
But after analyzing their recent matches, Juninho couldn't help but feel reassured.
Lincoln's strategy relied on basic long balls and crossing—textbook lower-league football. The only advantage they had was slightly better individual athleticism compared to Non-League teams.
But Morecambe?
Morecambe had a new spine of elite-level youth players and a tactical system far beyond this level.
He wasn't worried.
---
The Next Morning
The sun rose early over the seaside town of Morecambe. A soft warmth lingered in the air, unusual for England.
Outside Morecambe Town Stadium, the red-and-white sea of fans had already gathered—young and old, drums pounding, trumpets blaring, team chants echoing across the streets.
The whole place was buzzing.
Duan Xuan, microphone in hand, stood just outside the stadium's gates, soaking it all in.
"Hello, viewers! We're live outside Morecambe's home ground," he said into the camera. "As you can see, the atmosphere is electric. Fans are arriving in numbers, eager for today's League Cup match."
Behind him, the crowd continued streaming in. Some fans stopped to smile and pose for the camera, a few even flexing or striking dramatic poses.
"Let's head inside now and see how the players are preparing."
He motioned to the cameraman, and together they made their way through the crowds and into the stadium. The halls were narrow, but the atmosphere only grew louder the closer they got to the locker room.
From inside, they could already hear Juninho addressing the team.
"Let's go in," Duan Xuan whispered with a smile.
The door creaked open.
Juninho's voice rang out clearly now.
"League Cup. League Two opponent. You confident?"
"YES!!" the players roared in unison.
"Then f**k them!"
Laughter and adrenaline surged through the room.
"Remember how you feel right now. Take this into the game! If we make it to the third round, we could face a Premier League club. For many of you, this might be one of the few chances you get!"
"Charge forward!"
"LET'S GO, BOYS!"
Duan Xuan glanced around, visibly impressed.
The Morecambe players weren't just pumped up—they were laser-focused and completely united under Juninho's leadership.
That level of buy-in was rare, especially in lower league football.
"Coach Juninho, we'll start rolling now," Duan Xuan said once the speech ended.
Juninho nodded. "Do your thing."
His focus was already shifting to the game ahead. He had no interest in playing up to the cameras.
The assistant referee soon entered to summon the players to the tunnel.
The starting eleven slapped hands and let out one final shout before marching down the hallway. Duan Xuan and his team followed, capturing every step.
---
10:50 AM
Both teams finally stepped onto the pitch as the stadium sound system blared.
Juninho followed behind with the substitutes, walking toward the bench. As he approached the sideline…
A chant erupted from the stands:
"JUNINHO!! JUNINHO!!"
"JUNINHO!! JUNINHO!!"
"JUNINHO!! JUNINHO!!"
The name echoed around Morecambe Town Stadium.
Ever since Juninho led them on a four-game winning streak, this had become a tradition among fans—chanting his name before and after every game.
They knew what he had done for the club. Especially the older supporters—those who had followed Morecambe through decades of mediocrity. They knew how rare this feeling was.
Juninho, now used to this reception, smiled warmly and raised his right hand.
He turned and waved to every section of the ground.
Duan Xuan and his cameraman captured the moment perfectly. The camera locked in on Juninho—his crisp suit, his confident posture, his raised hand under the soft English sunlight, with the roaring crowd behind him.
The cameraman gasped.
"Damn... That's a world-class shot."
---