Harbinger Of Glory

A couple of hours later, Marco found Spalletti in his office.

The manager sat behind his desk with the squad list spread out in front of him, a pen resting between his fingers as his eyes moved slowly from one name to the next before returning to the top again.

"How are you?" Marco said, coming in.

"Not worried," Spalletti said before picking his head up, "if it’s me we are talking about!"

"If it’s about Ukraine," he said as he went back to doing what he was doing before, "I am still not worried."

Hearing that, Marco couldn’t help but laugh as he came to the edge of the desk.

"Well, I am glad you are not worried, but what are we doing about that game?"

Spalletti didn’t answer that directly.

He set the pen down and looked at the paper and then looked at Marco.

"Some of the players.....veterans," he said, not naming anyone, "like to take charge on the pitch. Which I understand. They’ve been doing it for years, and it’s worked for them."

He paused and leaned back, then gestured towards the proof of work on his table.

"But they’re not following the system. They’re playing the game they know instead of the game we’ve been building, and when they do that, the younger players on the pitch don’t know whether to follow them or follow me."

Marco said nothing, waiting.

"Because on one hand, you have me, a powerful but easily disposable manager if things don’t go well, and then you have the players that will keep getting called up if they keep performing well, no matter how they act."

"Something needs to change," Spalletti said. "I need to shake the complacency out of it. Give them something that surprises them enough to reset, and I need to do well."

"Since I am disposable, I will make sure that they also know that they are easily replaceable too."

Hearing that, Marco straightened up slowly with a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

He’d had a feeling this conversation was coming, and he was glad that it was finally time for it.

"Well, since you’ve figured out your problem, I’m sure you’ll figure something out," he said, and turned and walked toward the door.

Spalletti watched his back.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "I will."

The following day’s training session followed the same trend as the previous, with the players feeling every ability being tested.

Spalletti was quieter than he had been all camp, watching rather than directing, his eyes moving between players and making the assessments he needed to make.

When the whistle came to end it, he gathered the group briefly, unlike the previous day when he’d just left.

"I’ve seen your effort today," he said as the players all stared at him.

"And I’ve seen the dedication. I’m taking both of those into account when I select the lineup for Ukraine."

After that, he looked at Marco standing to the side.

"Marco here will release the lineup once I’ve finalised it," he mentioned before looking back at the squad.

"That’s it for today. You’re dismissed."

When he was done, he walked off, leaving the players still for a while before some of them too began filing off in small groups.

Most of them headed for the tunnel, but a few stayed behind to stretch.

Udogie fell into step beside Leo with Carlo just behind them, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I’ve decided something," he said as Leo glanced at him.

"I’m retiring."

"From what?" Carlo’s brows furrowed.

"International football."

Leo shook his head while Carlo rolled his eyes, indulging the defender.

"You’ve had one camp."

"Exactly," Udogie said.

"I’ve had just one senior camp, but I already feel like it’s enough with all that’s going on!"

He looked around to make sure nobody else was close enough to hear before lowering his voice.

"I don’t even know who’s annoyed with who anymore."

Carlo chuckled, leaning in as Udogie beckoned him over.

"What happened now?"

"I went outside after dinner yesterday." Udogie spread his hands.

"Thought I’d get some air, but I was really looking to make a call. Instead I almost walked onto three senior players talking."

"And?"

"They weren’t exactly singing the manager’s praises."

With all that happened in football, Leo wasn’t particularly surprised.

"It happens," Carlo said.

"No, seriously," Udogie said. "They weren’t happy."

Hearing that, Leo shrugged.

"You don’t have to like your manager to work with him."

Udogie looked at him as he went on.

"You just have to do your job."

He adjusted the training top slung over his shoulder before adding,

"Ask Mourinho and Zlatan."

Carlo laughed immediately as Udogie sighed.

"I hate it when you make sense."

"What can I say? I am sort of a philosopher," Leo said, spreading his arms as Udogie snorted.

"Just saying anything nowadays," he said as the trio continued down the tunnel.

....

Despite waiting on it the rest of the day, the lineups looked like it might never drop.

Even when dinner approached, it still hadn’t been released.

Nobody spoke about it outright, but it hung over the evening anyway.

Conversations drifted from one subject to another, only to stall for a few seconds whenever a phone buzzed, or someone from the staff walked into the dining hall.

Each time, a few heads lifted instinctively before settling back down again.

Dinner eventually ended without answers.

After that, Leo walked back to the accommodation with Carlo and Udogie, the three of them exchanging the usual goodnights before disappearing into their separate rooms.

He showered, changed into a fresh T-shirt and shorts, plugged his phone in beside the bed and lay back against the pillow.

For a while he simply stared at the ceiling.

His thoughts wandered where they pleased, and in them a few of Spalletti’s words resurfaced before fading into the background again as sleep slowly began to win.

Then his phone lit up.

Leo reached for it almost on instinct, still half asleep.

The glow from the screen washed across the room as he unlocked it, but what he saw wasn’t what he was expecting.

He blinked once, then pushed himself upright.

"Damn," he muttered.