The Double Disaster
I never realized how much work was put into being a professional manager. Sure, I figured the work load would be a lot, but this was beyond anything I'd expected. After another hard day of preseason training, even as a coach, I was exhausted. I was hardly paying attention to the scouting reports on my desk, flipping through them listlessly and wistfully gazing at my empty mug of coffee.
As I began to doze off, and my eyes began to droop, I heard a sharp rapping on my door. I quickly shook myself awake and called out, "Come in!" In stepped Mats Hummels and Jakub Blaszczykowski, neither of them looking altogether too pleased with themselves or me. They walked up to my desk and stopped, staring at me silently.
I smiled at them uneasily, wondering what this was all about. I was quite worried; Mats especially was one of the best players on the team, a brilliant player and yet also a loyal and confident captain (my predecessor's selection). I asked them what was up.
Mats spoke up. "I'll cut straight to the point, Brian. My agent has told me that Barcelona has made a bid for me, and that you rejected it. It's always been a dream of mine to play for Barcelona...surely you understand."
So much for loyal.
Captain fucking fantastic, I muttered under my breath, before riposting, "Understand what? You are our captain, Mats, and one of our very brightest. I can't sell you, and you know that!"
To my utter disappointment, Mats just shook his head. "I'm sorry, coach. I know that I'm the captain, but this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and one that I intend to take. Please don't try to stop this, because I am leaving."
I was angry, now. I stood up, sending my rolling chair backwards in my suddenness, and began to open my mouth to yell some sort of assertive command back at my player. Just as the first word formed on my tongue, however, Kuba started speaking as well.
"Me, too, Brian. I'm out. I feel we have too many players in my position for me to be a first team player, and if Mats is leaving, I want to go to. At this stage of my career, I want to be playing regularly, and I don't see that happening here."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I simply stood there, hunched over, palms against my desk, gaping at my traitorous players in an incredible burst of frustration and rage. My mouth was open, but I was speechless. Never before had I been so disappointed.
"Well, we'll be on our way, coach," said Mats. "Thanks for your short time with us at the club, and thanks for ensuring that we will be leaving." The two of them began to walk away, but as they reached the door, I called out to them to stop, causing them to turn and look.
For a moment, I just looked at them, and then...
"I think both of you have forgotten what respect means, what loyalty means. This club is going places, and by God I'm glad I won't have selfish bastards like the two of you to bring us down this year. Until you're gone, however, you can go train with the under-21's."
They looked stunned, disbelieving that I'd snapped at them like this. Neither moved.
"Well? What the fuck are you looking at?! Get out, and never desecrate my office with your Godforsaken presences ever again. Goodbye, and good riddance."
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