The sll of baking bread filled the small kitchen in Yorkshire. It was a warm and comforting sll that made Michael Sterling forget about the pressure of the Premier League for a mont.
Michael sat at the wooden table. He held a cup of tea in his hands.
Opposite him sat his mother Martha. She looked well. The color had returned to her cheeks and her eyes were sharp and bright. She was currently holding Baby Gabriel who was staring at her with intense blue eyes.
"He is judging ," Martha said rocking the baby. "Look at him Michael. He thinks my tea is too weak."
"He thinks everything is too weak," Michael laughed. "He frowned at the Manchester City ga yesterday."
"Good," Martha said. "He has high standards. Like his grandmother."
Michael took a sip of tea. It was perfect.
"I am glad you are okay Mom," Michael said softly. "I was worried."
"I told you I am tough," she said. "I am made of Yorkshire steel. A little faint in a supermarket cannot stop . I have a league title to watch."
She put the baby down in his basket. She looked at Michael.
"You are close Michael. Two points."
"Two points," Michael repeated. "Four gas left. It feels like a marathon where we can see the finish line but our legs are burning."
"Do not stop running," she commanded. "If you stop I will co to the dugout and shout at you myself."
"I believe you," Michael smiled. "And Diego Nunez would be terrified of you."
"Good," she nodded. "Now eat your cake. You look thin. The stress is eating you."
Michael ate the cake. It tasted like ho. For an hour the world of millions of pounds and global fa disappeared. It was just a son and his mother and a baby who wanted to win trophies.
THE CRACK IN THE ENGINE
The peace did not last long.
The next morning at the Sterling Era Training Complex the mood was high. The players were buzzing after the 4 to 0 win against Villa. The Slingshot tactic was the talk of the football world.
Michael stood on the touchline with Arthur Milton.
"Look at them Boss," Arthur said happily. "They run like the wind. Endrick is so fast I think he teleports."
Endrick was indeed flying. The Brazilian wonderkid was sprinting past Pavard and Sergio Ramos for fun.
"Pass to !" Endrick shouted. "I am open!"
Leo Stone passed the ball.
Endrick chased it. He pushed off his right foot to accelerate.
And then it happened.
SNAP.
It was a sound like a dry twig breaking in a quiet forest.
Endrick scread.
He fell to the grass. He rolled over clutching his hamstring.
The music stopped. The laughter stopped. The world seed to stop.
Michael ran onto the pitch.
"Endrick!" Michael shouted. "Do not move!"
Diego Nunez was already there. The giant was kneeling beside the boy. Diego looked panicked.
"He is crying Papa Michael," Diego said. "The Samba Boy never cries."
The dical team arrived. They touched the leg. Endrick scread again.
"It is the hamstring," the doctor said looking up at Michael. His face was grim. "It is bad Boss. It snapped back like a rubber band."
Michael felt cold.
The Slingshot. The tactic relied on speed. It relied on tension. And the rubber band had just snapped.
They carried Endrick off on a stretcher. The boy had his arm over his eyes.
"My season," Endrick sobbed. "My season is gone."
"We will win for you," Michael promised squeezing his hand. "We will win for you."
THE ERGENCY ROOM
One hour later. Michael sat in his office.
The dical report was on his desk.
GRADE 3 TEAR. OUT FOR 6 WEEKS.
Season over.
"We are cursed," Arthur Milton said. He was lying on the floor staring at the ceiling. "First Kai Sora. Now Endrick. Our engine and our turbo. Both gone."
"We still have Osimhen," Michael said trying to sound brave.
"Osimhen needs service Boss," Arthur said. "Without Endrick running the channels who will create the space? Erik Olsen is good but he is one man."
Michael looked at the squad list.
AVAILABLE ATTACKERS:
Victor Osimhen
Erik Olsen
Jamie Vardy (Age 37)
Danny Fletcher (Just recovered)
It was thin. Too thin for a title race against Manchester City.
Michael stood up. He walked to the window.
He needed a miracle. He needed a player. But the transfer window was closed. It had been closed for months.
Then he rembered sothing.
He rembered a rule. A very specific obscure rule in the FA handbook.
"Arthur," Michael said. "Get the rulebook."
"The big dusty one?"
"Yes."
Arthur fetched the book. Michael turned the pages furiously.
"Here," Michael pointed. "Rule 14 Section C. The Ergency Loan Protocol."
"What does it say?"
"If a team suffers two catastrophic injuries to the sa position group in the final month of the season... they can apply for an ergency short term loan from a foreign league."
Arthur sat up.
"Is that real? Or did you just invent it?"
"It is real," Michael said. "It is rare. But it is real. We lost Kai and Endrick. Both creative attackers. We qualify."
"So who do we call?" Arthur asked. "ssi? Ronaldo?"
"No," Michael said. "We need soone who is ready. Soone we scouted before. Soone who is waiting."
He walked to the filing cabinet. He pulled out a dusty folder.
NA: JEAN LUC DUBOIS
CLUB: OLYMPIQUE LYONNAIS
STATUS: BACKUP STRIKER
"The French Giant," Michael whispered. "We scouted him in January. Rember?"
"The guy with the 88 potential?" Arthur asked. "The one who looks like a mountain?"
"Yes," Michael said. "Lyon are not playing for anything. They are mid table. They might let him go for four gas."
"Call them," Arthur said handing him the phone. "Use your best French accent Boss."
THE NEGOTIATION
Michael dialed the number.
"Bonjour," Michael said. "This is Michael Sterling from Barnsley."
The Lyon Director answered. He sounded bored.
"Ah Mr Sterling. The man who stole Endrick from Madrid. What do you want?"
"I want to borrow a sword," Michael said. "Jean Luc Dubois. I need him for one month."
"Jean Luc?" the Director laughed. "He is big. He eats a lot. Why do you want him?"
"Because I have a title to win," Michael said. "And my Ferrari just lost a wheel. I need a tank to replace it."
"We can do a deal," the Director said. "But it will cost you. We want a loan fee. And we want you to send us fifty boxes of Yorkshire Tea."
"Done," Michael said instantly. "I will send one hundred boxes."
"Deal," the Director said. "He is on the plane."
THE ARRIVAL OF THE TANK
The next morning a taxi pulled up at the training ground.
The door opened.
A man stepped out.
He was huge. He was six feet five inches tall. He had shoulders like a wardrobe. He had a beard that looked like it was carved from stone.
Jean Luc Dubois.
He walked into the reception. The floor shook slightly.
Arthur Milton was waiting for him. Arthur looked tiny next to him.
"Bonjour," Arthur squeaked. "Welco to Barnsley."
"Bonjour," Jean Luc said. His voice was deep like thunder. "Where is the kit? I am ready to smash."
Michael walked out. He shook the giant hand.
"Jean Luc," Michael said. "Thank you for coming."
"I was bored in Lyon," Jean Luc shrugged. "Here I see you are fighting for gold. I like gold."
"Co et the team," Michael said.
THE ETING OF THE GIANTS
They walked into the gym.
Diego Nunez was lifting weights. He was bench pressing a small car.
Diego saw Jean Luc. He stopped.
Diego stood up. He walked over.
The two giants stood face to face.
Diego Nunez. The Bull.
Jean Luc Dubois. The Tank.
The rest of the team stopped training. They watched in silence.
Diego sniffed the air.
"You sll like cheese," Diego said.
"It is Cambert," Jean Luc said. "It gives power."
Diego looked at Jean Luc arms. They were thick.
"You are big," Diego admitted. "Very big."
"I am strong," Jean Luc said. "I can lift you."
"Nobody lifts the Bull," Diego warned.
Jean Luc smiled. He grabbed Diego around the waist. He lifted him into the air like a baby.
"PUT DOWN!" Diego roared kicking his legs. "I AM NOT A TOY!"
Jean Luc put him down gently.
"You are heavy," Jean Luc nodded. "Good density."
Diego straightened his shirt. He looked at Jean Luc with new respect.
"Okay," Diego said. "You are strong. You can stay. We will be the Bash Brothers."
"Bash Brothers," Jean Luc repeated. "I like it."
THE NEW PLAN
Michael gathered the team.
"Endrick is gone," Michael said. The sadness was there but he pushed it down. "But we do not stop. We change."
He pointed to Jean Luc.
"This is our new weapon. We cannot play The Slingshot anymore. We do not have the speed."
Michael drew a new formation on the board.
It was a 4 4 2. But a big 4 4 2.
STRIKERS: Victor Osimhen and Jean Luc Dubois.
"We play The Hamr," Michael announced. "We put the ball in the box. We have two monsters. Osimhen is the leaping tiger. Jean Luc is the battering ram."
Arthur looked at the board.
"It is ugly Boss," Arthur whispered. "It is old school. It is primitive."
"It is effective," Michael said. "City play beautiful football. We will play heavy tal."
He looked at the team.
"Four gas," Michael said. "Four gas to make history. Endrick is watching from his bed. Kai Sora is watching. Do it for them."
"FOR THE FALLEN!" Diego Nunez shouted.
"AND FOR THE CHEESE!" Jean Luc added.
"Sure," Michael laughed. "For the cheese too."
THE EVENING CALM
That evening Michael went ho.
He held Baby Gabriel. The baby was wearing the purple kit Arthur had bought.
"We have a new friend Gabriel," Michael whispered. "He is a French giant. You would like him."
Gabriel gurgled. He waved his small fist.
"Yeah," Michael said. "We are going to fight. It is not going to be pretty. It is going to be a war."
"Bring it on," Michael said to the darkness. "We are ready to smash."
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