June 15th - June 20th, 2016

Monday morning arrived with the kind of nervous energy that made my hands shake as I held my coffee cup. Nine o'clock. Gary's office.

The meeting I'd promised Emma I'd have, the meeting I'd texted Gary about Sunday night in a moment of clarity that now felt more like temporary insanity. What if he thought I couldn't handle the job? What if asking for help was admitting defeat before I'd even properly started?

Emma had texted me that morning, as if she could sense my anxiety from two hundred miles away: "Week 3. You've survived longer than I thought. Proud of you. Now go ask for that help before you work yourself into an early grave. Love you."

I'd replied: "Meeting at 9. Terrified."

"You've got this. Also, have you tried the coffee at that place near the training ground? Apparently it's 'artisanal.'"

"It's £4.50 for a flat white."

"That's London, babe. Welcome to the big leagues."

"I miss Greggs, I'll have to dind it."

"We all do. Now go. Be brilliant."

Gary's office was on the second floor of the academy building, a space that managed to be both professional and welcoming.

Framed photos of academy graduates lined the walls: players who'd made it to the first team, to other Premier League clubs, to international squads. It was a reminder of what this place was about, what I was supposed to be building towards. No pressure, then.

"Danny," Gary said, gesturing to the chair across from his desk. "Come in. Sit down. You look like you're about to face a firing squad."

"Feels a bit like it," I admitted, sitting down and immediately regretting how honest that sounded.

He smiled, the kind of warm, paternal smile that made me understand why players and coaches alike respected him. "You wanted to talk about building a coaching staff."

"Yeah." I took a breath, trying to organize the thoughts that had been swirling in my head all weekend. "The last two weeks have been... intense. We've made progress: the pressing success rate is up, the players are starting to understand the tactical system, and we've had some really good moments. But I've also realized something important. I can't do this alone."

Gary nodded, his expression unreadable. "Go on."

"At Moss Side, I had to do everything myself. Tactics, fitness, psychology, analysis... all of it. There was no budget for specialists, no infrastructure. It was just me and a clipboard and a lot of stubbornness."

I paused, choosing my words carefully. "But this isn't Moss Side. The players are more talented, more complicated. The demands are higher. And I'm realizing that trying to be everything to everyone is actually holding us back. I need help. Specifically, I need an assistant coach for tactics and training, a fitness coach to manage load and prevent injuries, and a goalkeeping coach for Ryan and the others."

There. I'd said it. The admission hung in the air between us, and I waited for Gary's response, my heart hammering against my ribs.

He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "Tell me about the last two weeks. What's worked? What hasn't?"

So I did. I told him about the tactical progress, about Nya and Reece buying in, about the pressing success rate climbing from 18% to 41%.

I told him about Connor's attitude, about the video sessions that went too long, about the players looking overwhelmed by information.

I told him about working fourteen-hour days and still feeling like I was missing things, about drowning in video analysis and tactical data, about having too much information and not enough time to process it all. I told him about Emma's visit, about her making me realize I didn't have to do this alone.

"You're right," Gary said when I finished. "You can't do it alone. And you shouldn't have to. The question isn't whether you need help, Danny. It's whether you're ready to lead a team of coaches, not just a team of players."

I blinked. "You're... you're saying yes?"

"I'm saying I've been waiting for you to ask." He smiled. "We have the budget. We have the infrastructure. What we needed was for you to be self-aware enough to recognize your limitations and confident enough to ask for support. That's what separates good coaches from great managers."

The relief that washed over me was so intense I almost laughed. "So what happens now?"

"Now, you tell me what you need. Specifically. Roles, responsibilities, the kind of people you're looking for. Then we start the recruitment process. It'll take a few weeks, maybe a month, to find the right people. In the meantime, you keep doing what you're doing. Keep building the system, keep developing the players. But Danny..."

He leaned forward, his expression serious. "When you have a staff, you need to trust them. Delegate. Let them do their jobs. Can you do that?"

I thought about it, really thought about it. Could I let go of control? Could I trust other people to carry part of the weight? "I can learn," I said finally. "I want to learn."

"Good." Gary stood, extending his hand. "Welcome to management, Danny. The real work starts now."

We started the week with more video analysis, but this time, I focused on our own sessions. I showed the players clips of their successes from the previous week; the moments where the press had worked, where they'd moved as a unit. I wanted to build their confidence, to show them that the system could work, that they were capable of executing it.

"See this?" I said, pausing on a clip from Friday's training match where a coordinated press had led to a goal. "This is what it looks like when we get it right. Nya, you initiate the press. Reece, you're right there in support. The whole team shifts as one. It's not complicated. It's just about communication and trust."

The positive reinforcement worked. The players were more engaged, more willing to listen. On the training pitch, the atmosphere was lighter, more focused. The tactical sessions on Monday and Tuesday were our best yet.

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