Monday, July 6th, 2016

I woke up at 4:47 am, thirteen minutes before my alarm. My brain had apparently decided that sleep was optional when you were about to manage another human being for the first time in your life.

I'd stacked shelves at a convenience store. I'd coached kids at Moss Side. I'd survived five weeks at a Premier League academy. But I'd never had a subordinate. Never had someone whose career, whose development, whose daily experience would be shaped by my decisions.

The weight of that hit me somewhere around 5:15 am while I was staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, wondering if I looked like someone who could manage people.

I didn't.

Emma had texted me at midnight: "Stop panicking. She's a professional. You're a professional. Just don't be weird."

Too late for that.

I arrived at Copers Cope at 7:30 am. Sarah wasn't due until 9 am, but I needed time to prepare. To organize. To have a minor breakdown in private.

The system flickered to life as I unlocked my office.

[SYSTEM] First Day: Assistant Coach Integration. Stress Level: High. Recommendation: Breathe. Remember: You hired her because she's good. Let her be good.

Even the system was giving me pep talks now.

I spent the next hour reorganizing my office. Then reorganizing it again. Then realizing I was being ridiculous and forcing myself to sit down and review the day's plan. Tour. Tactical discussion. Observe training. Debrief. Simple. Professional. Not weird.

At 8:47 am, I saw her car pull into the car park. Thirteen minutes early. Of course, she was early. She was probably one of those people who had their life together. Who didn't reorganize their office twice before 8 am because they were having an existential crisis about management.

I watched from my window as she sat in her car for a moment, looking up at the building. Was she nervous too? Did professionals get nervous? Or was that just me?

She got out, grabbed her Palace backpack, and headed toward the entrance. I forced myself to walk calmly down the corridor, not sprint, not panic, just walk like a normal human being who definitely knew what he was doing.

I met her at the entrance. "Sarah. Welcome."

"Danny." She shook my hand firmly. Professional. Confident. Everything I wasn't feeling.

The system flickered to life.

[SYSTEM] New Staff Member Detected: Sarah Martinez

Age: 31

Position: Assistant Coach

Tactical Knowledge: 82/100

Sports Science Expertise: 88/100

Man Management: 74/100

Communication: 79/100

Adaptability: 85/100

Work Ethic: 91/100

Potential: High

Personality Traits: Analytical, Direct, Ambitious, Detail-Oriented

Strengths: Tactical periodization, injury prevention, data analysis, challenging assumptions

Weaknesses: Can be overly critical, sometimes struggles with player relationships initially

Overall Rating: 81/100 (Elite Academy Level)

System Note: Excellent hire. Complements your strengths, covers your weaknesses. High synergy potential.

I blinked. Elite academy level. 81/100. The system approved. That was... reassuring. And also terrifying because now I had to not screw this up.

"Thanks for the opportunity," she said. "I'm excited to get started."

"Good. Because we've got a lot to do." I led her inside, trying to project confidence I absolutely did not feel. "First things first... let me show you around, introduce you to the staff, then we'll sit down and talk through the week ahead."

The tour took twenty minutes. I introduced her to Marcus Reid in the analysis suite. He greeted her warmly, which helped.

Then the physios, who were professional and welcoming. The kit manager, who made a joke about finally having "some proper organization around here," which I chose not to take personally. And finally, Gary Issott, who welcomed her like she was already part of the family and told her she was joining "one of the best young coaching minds in the country."

I wanted to crawl into a hole.

Sarah handled it all with professional grace, asking smart questions, making mental notes, absorbing everything. She was good at this. Really good. Which made me feel both relieved and inadequate.

By 9:45 am, we were back in my office. Our office now. That was going to take some getting used to.

"Right," I said, sitting down across from her. The desk felt like a barrier. Too formal. Too hierarchical. I stood up again. "Actually, let's sit over here." I gestured to the small table by the window. More collaborative. Less "boss and subordinate." More "we're in this together."

She smiled slightly. "Nervous?"

"That obvious?"

"Little bit. It's fine. First time managing someone?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"You reorganized your desk twice this morning. I could see the stress marks in the dust."

I laughed despite myself. "Right. Okay. Full transparency: I've never managed anyone before. I've never had a subordinate. I've spent my entire career either working alone or being the subordinate. So if I'm terrible at this, please tell me."

"Deal," she said. "And for what it's worth, I've never been anyone's first hire before. So we're both figuring this out."

That helped. A lot.

"Okay," I said, feeling slightly less like I was drowning. "Let me walk you through where we are." I pulled up the tactical files on my laptop.

"Five weeks in. The players are starting to understand the pressing system... when to trigger, how to execute, where to recover. But it's inconsistent. Some days they look brilliant, other days they revert to old habits. Most of them are buying in, but we've got gaps."

I walked her through the squad. "Reece Hannam: our captain, solid, reliable, good tactical brain. Leads by example. Nya Kirby: hardworking, always engaged, asks smart questions and also a future captain material. The kind of player every coach wants. Connor Blake: our most talented player and our biggest headache. Brilliant one day, lazy the next. The lads don't really respect him because he doesn't put in the effort. Ryan Fletcher: a goalkeeper who needs specialized coaching I can't provide."

Sarah listened, occasionally jotting notes. "What's your biggest challenge right now?"

I'd thought about this a lot. "Honestly? Letting go. I've spent five weeks doing everything myself. Coaching tactics, managing fitness, handling psychology, analyzing video, planning sessions, and dealing with individual player issues. I'm spread too thin. That's why you're here. But..." I hesitated.

"But you don't know how to delegate," she finished.

"Yeah."

"That's normal. Most first-time managers struggle with it. You've been the one-man-army for so long, it feels wrong to trust someone else with pieces of it."

"Exactly."

***

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