(The tape recorder clicks on. The background noise is the rhythmic thud of rain against the window of the manager’s office at the Artemio Franchi. The fixture list is piling up, and the heavy metal football of the Purple Press is starting to test the squad’s endurance.)
Act I: The Goalkeeper’s Pact
Managing a squad of elite athletes is 10% tactics and 90% amateur psychology. Before we even kicked a ball in late October, I had a giant, unhappy German knocking on my office door.
Noah Atubolu, the man I brought in to challenge for the #1 jersey, was officially “Concerned” about his playing time. And he had a point. Elia Caprile had been an absolute wall in Serie A, sweeping up behind our high line flawlessly. But you cannot leave a £10.5m goalkeeper rotting on the bench without the dressing room dynamics taking a hit.
So, I struck a deal. I looked him in the eye, poured him an espresso (which looked comically small in his massive hands), and made a solemn promise: Caprile gets the league, but you get the Champions League. His morale immediately flipped back to happy. The pact was sealed. Now, I just had to hope he wouldn’t embarrass me under the European lights.
Act II: The Domestic Grind
With the goalkeeper politics temporarily resolved, we turned our attention back to the brutal Serie A schedule. The beauty of a truly elite team isn’t just winning when you’re flying; it’s grinding out results when the opposition parks the bus.
The Sassuolo Suffocation: Sassuolo came to Florence with zero intention of playing football. We completely choked the life out of them, holding 71% possession and generating 1.50 xG to their measly 0.13. Despite outclassing them, we couldn’t find a clean finish ourselves. Instead, we relied on a 21st-minute own goal from Filippo Missori to secure the 1-0 victory. A win is a win, but it was a warning sign.
The Sardinian Scare: Next up was a trip to Cagliari, and the warning signs became reality. We started sluggishly, and Federico Bernardeschi put Cagliari ahead in the 14th minute.
But the Purple Press is relentless. My right wing-back, Marc Pubill, decided he had seen enough. He bombed forward to score a brilliant equalizer in the 50th minute (assisted by Valentín Carboni), and then miraculously scored again in the 66th minute (assisted by Amir Richardson) to flip the game on its head.
To put the final nail in the coffin, I threw on Vedat Muriqi. The human trebuchet did exactly what he was brought in to do, latching onto a Ben Doak assist in the 82nd minute to seal a 3-1 win.
Act III: The Arsenal Blitz
Then came the true test. We welcomed Arsenal to the Artemio Franchi for a massive Champions League clash. True to my word, Elia Caprile was benched, and Noah Atubolu took his place between the posts.
I told the boys to start fast. I didn’t realize they would take it quite so literally.
In the very first minute of the game, Valentín Carboni slipped the ball to Manu Koné, who buried it to make it 1-0 before the smoke from the ultras’ flares had even cleared.
From there, it was a massacre. Rolando Mandragora put on an absolute midfield clinic. He dictated the entire game, providing the assist for Pio Esposito in the 20th minute, and another assist for Harvey Elliott in the 62nd minute. Mandragora finished the night as the undisputed Best Performer with a towering 8.8 match rating.
We generated a massive 2.54 xG compared to Arsenal’s 0.64. Viktor Gyökeres managed to scrape an 89th-minute consolation goal past Atubolu, but the 3-1 scoreline was a monumental statement to the rest of Europe. The pact paid off.
Act IV: The Neapolitan Chess Match
The problem with magical European nights is the hangover that follows. Just three days after dismantling Arsenal, we had to host Napoli in a top-of-the-table Serie A six-pointer.
As agreed, Caprile returned to the net, and we needed him. Heavy legs were obvious across the pitch. It was a true, grueling Italian chess match. We held 64% of the ball, but Napoli’s block was impenetrable. We scraped together 0.75 xG, while restricting Napoli to 0.60 xG.
It ended in a 0-0 stalemate. Caprile earned his keep with a 7.2 rating to secure the clean sheet.
It wasn’t pretty, but it was a vital point. The squad is stretched, the rotation pacts are holding the dressing room together by a thread, and the winter fixtures are looming. But the Purple Press marches on.
