Holy crap, what a deal! I hope you can find a great replacement.

Ooh joining Derby, interesting

Go to Derby and take them to prem!

I walked out of my new home in England, Derby to be precise. It was so, so cloudy out today in the 15°C air. This was nothing like the autumn temperatures in Portugal. It was windy, I don't really like English weather but it's workable.

All dressed and ready in my black suit, up for the game, my first in English football and I cannot wait. Unlike Portuguese football, there's so much more competition over here. In Portugal you have the Premier League and they're the best teams there. But in England, all teams in all divisions have some quality. That's why it's so loved around the world.

But anyway, since I received a huge pay rise from my €13,500 per week at Braga to £21,000 at Derby, I've used it to purchase my beauty of a house and a brilliant new car, a Bentley Continental GT V8 S in white, Derby's home colours.

As the car engine roared, I could sense the Derby followers doing exactly the same. I couldn't wait to get to North Yorkshire for our tie against York City. During the week we'd completed ten deals for Braga players. All very highly rated in Portugal by me and fans.


All of those players are way too talented for this level, which is exactly why I bought them, to get us out of here. The Derby fans on social media seem to be very pleased with the arrivals.


After a one hour and forty-five minute drive from Derbyshire to York, I've finally arrived at the stadium, quite a scruffy stadium but what could I do? The players had all already arrived and were getting changed in the dressing room, the divide between the amount of players speaking Poruguese and English worried me, but I'd learnt enough English to cope with both languages.

"So then." I started. "This is where it all begins. Where the Derby County revolution begins, away at York.
You're all special players, I know some of you so well to say that, but others? You must be doing something right to have become a professional footballer. You must have some talent." The dressing room looked up.
"The club's been going through a rough time recently, some of you have experienced that. My squad at Braga suffered from this, soon enough they were league champions. Why can't you be? Why can't you start today? We can do this, just believe in each other and you've got a win, trust me. But enough of me chatting bollocks, get out there and make these fans proud!" The squad replied to my speech with an almighty cheer before countless 'come ons' echoed around the dressing room.


As the players lined up in the tunnel, I took my seat with my new assistant manager, Paul Simpson. I was shivering like mad. But hopefully a win could make me feel slightly warmer.

The teams were greeted by a roar as they walked out onto the green pitch, catered by the groundsman on a daily basis, played on by footballers on weekends. I looked around the ground to see my fans. A wall of white shirts.

We started the game off as the referee's whistle screeched around all four stands of the ground. Delort passed it to Lozano before Rafa took control, it was like watching Braga B!

Paul Anderson, one of the few Englishmen in the Derby squad takes a throw in in York's half. York's midfielder slides in only to give it straight back to the thrower. But Lozano's taken a tumble in the box... The ref's blown the whistle! Penalty! He's taken his yellow card out of his pocket. But Lozano's been sent off! I stood on the edge of my technical area, stunned.
"WHAT?!" I screamed to the referee.
"You might get away with that in Portugal, but not here." He replied.
I was absolutely fuming as I handed Anthony Lozano his jacket. He looked devastated.

Now York had a throw-in deep in our own half. Wedgbury crossed in a ball, Grant's missed it! The referee's whistle blows, much to my relief for a foul on our keeper.

York have a throw in deep in their own half, he finds his winger totally unmarked. This is the problem with no full-backs.
"Simone! Simone! Go to!" I shout to Simone Benedetti, the left center-back. They've switched it to the right now... Oh dear... Goal. York have taken the lead.
"WHAT IS GOING ON?" I scream to my defenders.


Benedetti takes control of the ball at the halfway line for us. Viviani has it.
"Look at Capezzi!" I shout to him. Rafa has it for us now. He's found Delort making a superb run! GOAL!
"YESSSSSS!!!!" I scream, hugging Paul Simpson.
"GET IN!" He shouts back, over the noise of our fans' celebrating support.
What a tidy finish that was!


Torrado's cleared it for us. Straight to their central midfielder. Back to their full-back who lumps it forward... It's bounced over the head of Benedetti, to their striker who's anticipated this.
"For Christ sake..." I say to myself.
Thankfully he's hit it into our side-netting. Benedetti is saved from a bollocking.

Domej has a free-kick for us, just in their half. He's gone short to Viviani. Torrado has deflected the pass straight into the path of their striker who bursts forward at top speed. He takes a shot from very long range only to see it fly wide of the post.


"What was that?" I ask my team in the dressing room.
"Do you think that's acceptable? Most of you were playing for me in my Champions League winning Braga side, you're struggling to defeat YORK CITY.
I want you to go out there now, and absolutely batter them, if not, I want to see every ounce of energy left in you gone."

Grant hoofs it forward to Rafa from just outside his penalty area, a great pass even if it wasn't deliberate. Finds Delort. It's fallen to Anderson following the dispossession of Delort. Has a shot! Well wide.
"DON'T SHOOT FROM THAT ANGLE FOR GOD SAKE" I demand, targeting Anderson.

Shit. Andy Delort has gone down injured in their box. He needs to come off. I look to Joe Nuttall on my bench, the young Manchester City loanee brought here under the previous regime.
"Joe, get yourself a goal." I say to him. He nods as he takes off his jacket.

We have a free-kick in a perfect position for Rafa to whip one in. It's floated into the box from Rafa... Joe Nuttall's free! GOAL! He's nodded it past the keeper!
"Get in Joe!!!" I scream in praise.
He runs over to me in celebration, pointing to me.
"That's for you, boss!" He says to me, smiling.


Viviani takes a throw in on the far side. Anderson brings it under control. Lumped forward straight to Ledger's feet. Now his hoof finds the Croatian that is David Domej. His long ball finds Nuttall. Labidi has it now. He's tried to play it over the head of St. Ledger into Nuttall's run. Ledger plays it down the wing to Edwards, crossed in to Eccleston. Goal. Eccleston nods in a cross, totally unmarked by any defender nearby.


Berry takes the ball in on his right foot, turns into space. He's crossed in a ball to Gorman. It's found him unmarked again at the far post. Goal.
"For fuck sake!" I shout in disgust.


Full time. Unbelievable. I had trusted these players to dominate the league, turns out we can't even win or put up a fight against York City.

A hard result to take but a great story so far

A pretty solid month!

good streak!

Disappointing loss however you played better after that match. Good start!

joethequin: Especially considering it was my first

fzemdegs: Thanks!

Oz96: Yeah, that York match was a warm-up for me in my eyes, thanks

Why did you leave Braga Jack?! And for a League One club too!