While Iain is currently sunning himself on a beach somewhere—likely cornering a poor waiter to explain the tactical nuances of a false-nine in a low-block system—I am still in Florence, locked in the trenches of football administration.
The January transfer window has slammed shut, the dust has settled, and it is time for that most dreaded of Football Manager traditions: the mid-season board review and staff catch-up.
Act I: The Boardroom (or, How I Became Public Enemy Number One)
I walked into the office of our Chairperson, Rocco Commisso, expecting a hero’s welcome. After all, we are sitting pretty in the league, the Purple Thunder protocol is terrorising Serie A, and my violently purple touchline suit is selling out in the club shop.
Overall, Rocco is delighted. He slid a piece of paper across the desk showing my job security as “Very Secure,” handing me a solid A- grade. He even went out of his way to praise our 6-0 dismantling of Udinese.
But then, the mood shifted. Football club owners are a fickle bunch.
- The Penny-Pinching: First, Rocco decided to complain about the “finances involved” in the sales of Matteo Darmian and Nemanja Matić. I practically had to point at the club’s financial ledger, which clearly shows we are well within our FFP limits, boasting a £19.1m transfer budget and nearly £400k p/w in available wage budget. I cleared the deadwood, Rocco! You’re welcome!
- The Maguire Bombshell: But that wasn’t the real issue. The real issue is the fans. The supporter spokesperson handed in a report showing the fanbase is absolutely outraged—an abysmal ‘E’ rating—over the sale of Harry Maguire.
Now, I understand they loved Harry. He headed away a lot of footballs. But the fans’ primary complaint? They “can’t understand why he was sold to a rival”.
I looked down at the transfer sheet. In my ruthless, manic effort to clear his £105k-a-week wages off the books, I hadn’t just sold him. I had sold him to Juventus for £6m.
I have armed the Old Lady with a slab-headed colossus. I am a monster, and the ultras are right to be furious.
Act II: The Best Staff in Italy
To escape the heat of the boardroom, I took a stroll down to the coaching offices. If there is one thing I have built perfectly at this club, it is the backroom setup.
We currently employ a small army of 21 coaching staff. I checked the Serie A comparison charts on the wall, and it is a beautiful sight: we possess the highest-rated coaching team in the entire league across almost every single category, from attacking to defending to tactical coaching. We are an institution of learning.
I sat down with my Assistant Manager, Francesco Conti. Francesco is a 64-year-old Italian footballing purist. He looks like a man who has seen a thousand catenaccio systems rise and fall.
“Francesco,” I said, pouring an espresso. “How are the boys?”
Francesco pulled up the squad dynamics report. “The dressing room atmosphere is excellent, boss,” he rasped, tapping the screen. “Rolando Mandragora is our leader. He has been here a long time, he understands the culture. He and Marc Guéhi are running that dressing room perfectly”.
It was a relief. Guéhi, despite only arriving in the summer, has immediately cemented himself as a Team Leader alongside my loyal vice-captain.
Act III: The Minor Grumbles
However, perfection is a myth in Football Manager. While the overall vibe is “Excellent,” there are a few grumbles in the ranks.
- The Unhappy Goalkeeper: Mile Svilar, my Serbian wall, is currently listed as “Slightly Unhappy”. This is entirely my fault. Between laughing at his £800k-a-week contract demands and frantically accepting Saudi bids, the poor man doesn’t know if he’s staying in Tuscany or packing for Riyadh.
- The Benchwarmers: The fans, ever the critics, have decided to champion the causes of Luca Lezzerini and Pascal Klemens, noting they haven’t “played often enough for the supporters to form a strong opinion” but feeling they should be playing more. I will let Francesco deal with them.
- The Tactical Approval: On the bright side, the supporters are absolutely enamoured with my tactical genius. They gave a ‘B-‘ rating to both my 4-3-3 Purple Rain system and my Gegenpressing Purple Thunder, stating they are “particularly pleased with the number of goals scored”.
So, as Iain sips a piña colada and pretends not to check the Serie A table on his phone, the Purple Palace is in remarkably good order. The finances are healthy, the coaching staff is elite, and the dressing room is united.
If we just ignore the fact that I sold our defensive cult hero to Juventus, everything is going to be absolutely fine.
—
Act IV: The £9 Million Hole (or, How to Gaslight a Billionaire)
My smugness after reviewing the staff ratings lasted approximately four minutes. Before I could even finish my espresso, my phone buzzed. It was Rocco Commisso. I was summoned back to the boardroom.
I walked in, smoothing down my violet lapels, expecting to discuss where we were going to place the Serie A trophy cabinet. Instead, Rocco slammed a financial ledger onto his mahogany desk.
“We are nine million pounds in the red,” he said, his voice terrifyingly calm.
I blinked. I looked at the ledger. He was right. The Overall Balance—that sneaky, terrifying number that Football Manager hides behind the shiny transfer budget screen—was glowing a sinister crimson. £9,000,000 in debt.
Rocco adjusted his glasses. “I am slashing the remaining £19 million transfer budget. And that £300k wage buffer? Gone. We must balance the books.”
Panic set in. If I lose my war chest, I lose my leverage in the proxy war against Iain. I needed to employ peak managerial persuasion. I accessed the internal dialogue tree in my brain and went to work.
“Rocco,” I said, putting a hand on my heart. “You are looking at the micro, but we are building the macro. Yes, we spent £30m on Ben Doak. Yes, the bank balance is temporarily frightened. But this is not debt. This is investment.”
He narrowed his eyes. “It says ‘debt’ right here.”
“A mere accounting illusion!” I countered, pacing the room. “Think of the pending £53m Saudi money for Svilar! It’s practically in the post! Think of the Champions League TV revenue! We are second in the league! If you take away my transfer budget now, right in the middle of a purple patch, you will derail the entire project. We will plummet. The Roman Menace will overtake us. Do you want Iain to win?!”
I held my breath. In Football Manager, interactions with the board are a coin toss. You either emerge with a larger budget, or you get sacked on the spot for insolence.
Rocco stared at me for what felt like an eternity. He looked at the ledger. He looked at my violently purple suit.
“Fine,” he grumbled, waving a hand dismissively. “The budgets remain. But no more unhinged spending.”
“Thank you, Chairman,” I said, backing out of the room with a polite bow.
I closed the door, wiped the sweat from my forehead, and immediately pulled out my phone to instruct my scouts to find me a £19m Brazilian wonderkid. You can’t take the transfer budget away if I spend it all before lunch.