As I walked onto the grass pitch, the thunder roared in my ears. Rain splattered onto the muddy surface, as well as my open skin. I squinted and saw a group of men, variant in size and demeanour, all wearing the kit of Porto FC. As I approached them, I could see their expressions of disbelief and confusion. Frankly, I would have reacted the same if I was in their position.
I halted to a standstill and addressed them. I told them who I was and why I was here. They all looked bored and uninterested as I rambled on about my expectations. Finally, when I was discussing tactics, I heard a player yawn loudly. This was the last straw.
Me- Hey! Hey! Listen up! I know you guys don't like that I am here, but that doesn't mean you don't listen to me. I am your manager, the man who's job it is to stand here tell you what to do, hope you listen to me, and then get shouted at by the media when things goes wrong. You get all the money, the praise and the press. All I am asking is that we work together and get things done. I don't care if you hate me, if you love me, or whatever else. All I care about is that you do what I say so that we can work well together. Am I understood?!
The faces of the men had turned into expressions of shock and astonishment. I saw one player who I recognised as Helton, the goalkeeper, looking quite impressed.
Me- I said, AM I UNDERSTOOD?
Team- Yes, sir!
Me- Good. Now lets get to work.