Amare, that would be awesome lets hope they implement that in next seasons football manager.

Speaking of fm10.. Im guessing you will stop pro vercelli when its out? Will be a shame if you do!

Amare – Nice story, but FM09 does have multiplayer in the form of a network save, its how me and my friends play each other.

First: Yes, Bob Bradley is Manchester United’s manager now. They haven’t finished higher than 7th in the league since 2015.

I can’t tell you how–cathartic is the only word that fits–this book was to read.

Allow me to tell you why: I read this book at the beginning of the 2019-2020 season.

The year before (2018-2019), I decided it was time to clear payroll to make way for a youth movement, and I sold a number of players in the age range of 29-31 that I deemed surplus to requirements before their value began to decline. Arsenal, our main rivals, outbid everyone else by so much that I could not justify not selling them to them. All of them. The star of the Spanish National Team, a midfielder that compares with Michael Essien, a towering right back, and an aging, but incredibly intelligent defender. Total Haul was almost 100 million pounds. I spent 40m of it for someone that I thought had Leo Messi potential, a 22 year old left winger named Marco Toussaint from Real Madrid.

Judgement on the moves came quickly, as Massimo Bassi, the heir to Steven Gerrard in the midfield, picked up a 3 month injury in preseason. In the Community Shield (against Arsenal, no Less), Matteo Guerra, a striker who averaged nearly a goal a game last season, picked up a knock that would keep him out for the first three weeks of the season. Marco Toussaint was a total flop, failing to adjust to the bigger, faster, EPL.

In those first three weeks, we drew five out of our first seven league games. I was concerned. I’d had slow starts before, but that wasn’t what concerned me. What concerned me was the fact that Arsenal had won all seven. The season progressed, and things were rocky. We were in seventh going into the New Year.

I asked Mamadou Sakho, our captain and longest tenured player (he’d been with the club since he was 17, and was 29 at the time http://sports.tom.com/uimg/2009/3/3/jichao/1236045661156_26592.jpg ), to call a team meeting to address our difficulties. He reported back to me that some of the issues that had been plaguing the locker room were solved, but was concerned that he was more of a “lead by example” guy than a “lead by a speech” guy.

It showed on the field, as nothing improved. The season before, we’d won the Premiership with many of the same players, and at this point, I was simply concerned with continued ECC qualification and going as far as I could in Europe and in the FA cup. I knew that the January transfer window offered me a chance to pinpoint the problem, and I did.

Javier Mascherano, now 35, just wasn’t cutting it in the midfield and in our 4-1-2-2-1 high-pressure counter attack, his position is the fulcrum between defense and attack, and sub-par performance is just not possible. I sold Toussaint BACK to Real Madrid for 55m pounds, and then spent 30 of it on Makan Diop, a 26 year old defensive midfield from Sevilla.

Finally, the team began to gel, and as the Season progressed, we began to climb in the standings. Arsenal kept their impossible pace up, but we were soon fifth, then fourth, then fighting with Newcastle and Manchester City for second. We finished the league in second, were knocked out of the ECC by Arsenal (who else), but managed to snag the FA Cup for our troubles. The Reds had a reason to sing “You’ll Never Walk Alone,” but for the first time, I got the sense from above that my job security was not a given.

That’s when I read Pro. That July, and I can’t tell you how incredible it was to hear a similar story told so well. I made similar moves during the transfer window, 30 Million L for a 17 year old striker was my only purchase. He’s not as athletic as he could be, but he’s got a nose for the goal that I’ve not seen in a long time, and I needed a backup striker to bring along in the coming years as Guerra ages. (Morrone, the backup, is 17, and already has 16 heading, 19 finishing and 17 positioning, I couldn’t resist). I also bought an 18 year old, Micah Richards level athletic but unskilled defender who I think I can train over time to become versatile at DMC as well.

The fans were angry at the signings. They wanted an overhaul of the team, instant gratification, and a quick fix, but I was confident my young players would progress. I was right. And this is what I want to caution you about–don’t blow up your squad for the sake of it–address weaknesses and improve where you need to, and adjust your tactics accordingly. I recommend the 4-1-2-2-1, it has worked wonders for me.

I was right to hold firm. We started off the season with an 18 match unbeaten streak, even with injuries plaguing us, and losing our African contingent (1 starting defender, 1 first team winger, the aforementioned Diop) for a month and a half due to the African Cup of Nations in January/Feb. Bassi, Guerra, and Mario Balotelli all picked up lengthy knocks–Balotelli to the tune of four months, but John Fleck, the left winger that I displaced for Marco Toussaint, was having his best season at Liverpool, finishing with 18 gls and 18 assists. To make a long story short, our team played to potential and we steamrolled all competitions, finishing with the Treble.

There was one Champions League tie, however, that I would like to share with you, as it will warm your heart. It was the semifinal, and it began in AC Milan, against your old friend Vito. In the first leg, at the San Siro, The Rossonieri went up 1-0 in the third minute, only to have Ben George, a young midfielder who is only beginning to tap into his potential, pull back an away goal in the 87th minute. Felipe Ismar, the Brazilian heir to Gattuso in every way, was under John Fleck’s skin the entire game, and it was his worst of the season, picking up a yellow in the process.

In the return leg at New Anfield, Ismar continued his hounding of Fleck, and in the THIRD minute, the Scotsman’s temper got the best of him and threw an elbow that broke Ismar’s jaw, drawing a straight red. My strategy before that had been to get some insurance and grind out a 1-0 or 2-1 win. I had to hope for the 0-0 draw and advance on away goals. I brought an extra defender on and went with a 5-1-1-2 with no striker. In the tenth minute, Milan scored off of a corner, and I have no choice to go for broke.

I brought in Simon Vukcevic, MF/LW, formerly a key player but now, at 35, a super-sub who is the definition of a good soldier and in embracing the role has still finished with between 9 and 14 goals in the past three seasons. I switch to a 4 – 1 (Mascherano) – 1 (Makan Diop) – 2 (Vukcevic on the left, Bassi on the right) – 1 Guerra up top, and cross my fingers that the crowd could be our 11th man.

It turns out they were our 11th, 12th, and 13th. In the 21st minute, Vukcevic connected with Guerra on a cross to level it, and I jump up and down in the press box before making my way to the sidelines. In the 30th minute, Vukcevic nails a curling freekick to the top corner to put us up, and I slide down to the Kop End in my Zegna suit like I am an American Mourinho. When I get up, Vukcevic is there and we chest bump. That was the photo that led the next morning’s guardian, but it wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

We go into halftime, up 2-1. I tell my players that I am ecstatic with the first half. I tell Vukcevic that, in one night, he earned himself a place in Anfield legend. I tell Mascherano and Diop that they are showing Ismar, the bloodied heir apparent to Gattuso, that they are each twice the Milanese legend. As we walk back into the tunnel, I caution them to not let their performance drop.

In the second half, my Reds are looser than I’ve seen them all season, but the crowd is electric. The nervous optimism is oppressive. Vukcevic nets himself two more goals to complete his hat-trick and Guerra, not to be outdone, completes his brace. On aggregate, AC Milan falls to Liverpool 6-2, 5-1 in the second leg.

It’s the worst defeat in the history of their European competition. In the Champions league final, I beat, who else, Arsenal, 2-0, but it felt like an afterthought. We knew that we were unstoppable, and so did they.

So know, in an Alternate Universe, good old Vito got his harder than anyone could have ever hoped. And know that you’re always welcome in Liverpool. My live-in brazilian model ladyfriend is currently mastering the Liverpudlian art of boiling in all its myriad applications, specifically meats. She and Siobhan could exchange recipes while we discuss tactics. Or we could eat out. We eat out a lot.

Gordon Ramsay’s son Jack has opened his first restaurant here, something experimental called TROUGH, the philosophy behind it being “eat like the animals you are eating.” It’s very trendy, but we haven’t tried it yet, maybe we could all give it a go together.

Best as Always,
A.S.