Soccer Supremo - A Sports Progression Fantasy

4.

You are browsing YouTube.

The algorithm knows what you like - weird Japanese mascots drumming death metal at a children's concert, bard-core covers of Take On Me, short clips from The Big Short - and as your gaze fixes onto a new option it's clear that the algo has thrown up another banger. This new channel is called Owen Elmham's Second Half; the thumbnail shows 'Mad Owen' grinning and holding a dozen saplings in his massive hands; the title is 'I'm planting a FOREST... in my back GARDEN?!'

You click so hard you nearly break your wrist.

A man appears. He's wearing casual clothes, most notably a cream linen shirt that looks expensive. These aren't clothes from a shop but attire from a boutique. Words appear next to him: Max Best: Football Manager.

He grins at you. Your dominant hand twitches. It's saying, I want to slap this gentleman.

As if he can read your mind, the grin gets even cockier. "Hi, I'm Max Best. If you're watching this targeted advert - which is unskippable, lol! - it means that a computer thinks you’re the sort of person who would enjoy chanting ‘you’re getting sacked in the morning!’ at me. Me! Sacked! It'll be years before that happens. I'm the Soccer Supremo, mate! My face is on the cover!"

A best-selling video game slides across the screen. Best is, indeed, on the cover.

Best gets a little more serious.

"My comeuppance will happen one day, but will you be around to see it? There’s a cheeky little [bleep] of an illness that kills tens of thousands of men like us every year. Now, there’s a simple test to find out if you’re in trouble and if we catch it early we can [bleep] it bin it right off. These days the treatment is an absolute piece of [bleep] but we need to find it early. Click the link below, get yourself sorted, and you'll live long enough to see me lose my job. Imagine it - me scurrying off to the football wilderness with my tail between my legs. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Haha. Take the test then, you weirdo!"

Best smiles, and it's so warm and friendly you can't believe you ever wanted to slap him.

"I'll see you next season, yeah? Click the link, mate. Click the link."

A few words appear on the bottom of the screen: Brought to you by the Soccer Supremo Foundation.

***

You're in a large, architectural house. You see a pair of naked legs walk past. You turn away - are you shy? - and see a framed photo of Owen Elmham hurling himself sideways, arm stretched out, flecks of soil eternally hovering.

There's a click and you turn and see that a door is open. You go through it and find yourself behind a hulking blonde who is wearing a dressing gown. You settle into stride behind him as he makes his way around a Japanese-style zen garden. He seems to be taking the long way round so you can get a good look at everything.

He picks a spot and settles into the lotus position. You circle around in front of him.

"Hom," he says, as he pinches his fingers together.

The scene is made slightly more surreal by the fact that Owen Elmham is wearing goalkeeping gloves.

"Hom," he says, nodding to himself.

He gets up. You stand in front of him; he walks towards you. You move backwards, with Owen filling almost your entire field of vision.

"Owen!" says someone in a gruff Yorkshire accent. "What the 'eck's this? You're gonna be late for training."

The camera pans round to Steve Icke, the goalkeeper coach at Chester FC. There are buildings behind him and on the closest, the Chester badge is prominent. You turn back to Owen. Where's his house gone? Owen says, "I'm doing the intro for my first video, Sticky. Wake up in my house, go into the garden, walk out into Bumpers Bank."

"What the heck for?"

"Max thinks it'll look cool."

"Oh, does he? Well, bugger all that. Get some proper kit on and let's train. Bloomin' 'ell, lad! We've got Leeds United in the cup and you're poncing about in a toga!"

"Toga," laughs Owen. "Not into fashion, are you, Sticky?"

"Not into soft lads coming late to training, either."

Owen smiles at the camera. "I'll explain all this later. Got to work."

He ambles away. We watch him go for a few seconds, then turn around. There seems to be an exact replica of Owen Elmham's back garden in the training ground at Chester FC.

What?

***

Chester versus Leeds United

"Imagine not liking football," said Sandra.

We rolled our sleeves up and swapped places in the technical area. Sandra shouted instructions at the defenders, while I kept my eyes on the forwards. I swapped Pascal and Wibbers around because now that Leeds had brought on Alvarez, their best left back, there was a different dynamic on our right. Alvarez was powerful, so it made some sense to match him up with Wibbers, but after a few minutes I decided that my initial idea was still sound - Wibbers left, Pascal right. Pascal didn't have to compete physically with Alvarez - he only needed to press him, block his passing lanes, and be disciplined enough to support Magnus at right back.

As he often did, Pascal surprised me. He realised he couldn't stop Alvarez when he was in full flight, but he could block him off twenty yards before his opponent got into position. Three times in three minutes there was an off-the-ball collision that led to both men tumbling to the grass. There was no free-kick given. Why would there be? Leeds had the ball before and after the incident. When it felt as though the ref had cottoned on to what Pascal was doing, Pascal stopped doing it.

There were similar tales all over the pitch. We were playing smart. Streetwise. We moved Lippincott to one side of the pitch, then all the way to the other. We loaded the box as though we would take long throws, but after wasting forty seconds setting things up, we threw it short.

It was high-level game management and I couldn't have been more proud. Fire in our belly, ice in our veins. We took five minutes off the clock in the blink of an eye.

***

Norfolk

Owen Elmham is fully dressed and has a new haircut. He's in the middle of his back garden, which is now almost completely empty. "Looks like a tornado hit. Scooped everything up."

He takes a few steps but wherever he goes, all he sees is devastation. He laughs.

"Fucking hell, Max." He shakes his head. "And they call me crazy."

***

Descriptions of the action and commentary taken from DigiWorld Sports Max 4K.

Matt: Twenty-two minutes gone here at the Deva Stadium, where the score remains two-nil. Leeds United, now playing in Volker Stein's favourite 4-3-3, have dominated possession since conceding the second goal, and they have brought three of their best players onto the pitch. Connor-Thomas is leading the line. Lippincott is playing somewhere and everywhere. Alvarez has already been busy at left back. But Chester's shape is holding up well and they still look dangerous on the break.

Ally: They do, Matt, because they haven't changed what they're doing. They're actually doing 4-2-4 when they have the ball, so that's four attackers against four defenders. It's actually worse than that, from a Leeds fan's point of view because most of the time one or more of their full-backs is in the Chester half, so there's a chance we could see Leeds outnumbered again, and weren't Chester clinical on those counters?

Matt: Indeed they were. Leeds moving the ball down their right. Cole Adams holds them up. It's out for a throw-in. Leeds will load the penalty area, will they? Yes, they will. Adams has been quietly impressive, don't you think, Ally?

Ally: He has been excellent. He's dealt with everything that has come his way, he's confident on the ball, hasn't given it away cheaply, and his height has been useful in situations like what's coming.

Matt: Laughter from the home fans. What's happening?

Ally: The advert boards. The big screen.

Matt: Ah. Haha. Not sure which company has paid for this message to be displayed. 'English Premier League, land of the long throws'. And here it comes. It's launched high... Cole Adams heads it away. Youngster finishes the job.

Ally: Boards have changed.

Matt: 'EPL, best league in the world.' Was that a slight dig at his illustrious opponents from Max Best?

Ally: He's not keen on the long throws and how important set pieces are in the Premier League, but he'd better get used to it because this Chester team are going to the top. They're in the playoff spots and they're more than holding their own against Leeds. Over twenty minutes gone and Chester haven't put a foot wrong. They have been nothing short of magnificent.

Matt: Leeds passing the ball around the midfield. There's nowhere to go but back. Treffens hits a lovely first-time pass, which Connor-Thomas will chase. And he's wiped out by Zach Green! Green crashed into Connor-Thomas's back, sending the former England man flying.

Ally: Green's been looking for that and it was his first chance to leave something on NCT. Needless. Of course he did it just after I praised the team for their discipline.

Matt: Commentator's curse, Ally. Leeds will have a free kick in a wonderful opportunity. Is this how they get back into the game?

Ally: Look at Max Best.

***

Norfolk

Owen Elmham is sitting at his kitchen answering questions picked out by the Seal Studios production team. He holds up a flashcard and reads. "What's it like working for Max Best?"

He grins.

"First, it's Max Best and Sandra Lane. Max does more things, like he does transfers and scouting and the women's team but as far as the men's first team is concerned, we've got two bosses. It's easy to think of Sandra as the voice of reason... and I suppose she is. She's really good at the job but the best thing for me is that she's predictable and you always know where you stand. Max, sometimes, is hard to read."

***

23'

Zach flew into NCT and I flew into a rage. "What the fuck?" I screamed, as I looked for a stone column to punch to smithereens. "What the actual fuck?"

"Kin 'ell," said Sandra.

"I fucking told him! We trained this! Hours of me cosplaying as NCT. Did I need to strap on a fucking ponytail for the dozy twat to get the message? Don't foul him! Don't even touch him!" I tried to stop myself from crashing about like a gorilla because even in the middle of my outburst I knew it wouldn't look good on TV and it wouldn't do anything to help the team. Treffens took the ball and placed it in the location of the free kick. Left of goal, perfect angle, perfect distance. "FUCK!" I screamed.

I paced around, coming close to tearing my hair out.

"Lewis! Cheb! Get ready!"

"Subs, Max?" said Sandra, in a tone that suggested it was too early.

"Zach can get in the bin and he can stay there."

While Treffens got ready to take the free kick, I mentally sold The Texan to clubs all over the world, accepting lower and lower bids.

Scarborough Athletic are pleased to announce the signing of Zach Green for 50 fucking quid.

The Leeds players started a free kick routine. Christian, Zach, and Cole were blocked off, leaving NCT open at the far post. Treffens clipped the ball that way and the striker rose, hung in the air, and headed the ball past Owen... but wide.

Three-quarters of the stadium breathed a sigh of relief.

"Fuck!" I shouted, because somehow Leeds not scoring was even more infuriating. Zach would think he had gotten away with it, so he would do it again. "BIN!" I yelled.

Sandra put her arms around me and gently pushed me back and to the side, as if she was positioning me at a set pieces drill. She didn't say 'there, there' in a soothing voice, but that was her vibe. "That's our first cock-up," she said. "Zach's very sorry and he won't do it again."

"That's right, he won't, because he'll be playing in the National League North by the weekend."

"It's annoying, I know, but give us the chance to do it better. Come on. Five minutes. Look, there's Christian telling him off. Magnus, too. Even Youngster's at him! Ice in the veins, Max."

I peeled her arms off me, turned her around, and gave her a little push. With some space, I got calmer. I crouched and scanned the pitch. Match Ratings, Condition, risk versus reward. It was all out of whack.

"Subs," I said.

Sandra looked down, sucked in a breath, and I got the impression she was counting to 5. "Right," she said, simply.

"Colin and Vini."

She looked pleasantly surprised. "Oh? 5-3-2?"

"Yeah."

"Can it wait a few minutes? I don't want us to run out of gas like we do when we make these early subs."

"It can't wait. I want Zach to feel like shit when he thinks his number's about to go up."

"Fucking hell." Sandra scratched the side of her nose for a few seconds, then went to the 4th official and prepared the subs.

At the next stoppage, Cheb and Lewis stood on the touchline waiting to come on. Zach actually took a few steps towards us in anticipation of being hooked. When Vini went off instead, Zach looked shocked. Christian went to him, put his arm around his shoulder, and gave him a gee-up. Zach nodded a few times, then got back into position.

***

25'

Alvarez evades the attentions of Bochum.

Alvarez exchanges passes with Diego.

Alvarez hits a cross...

But it goes over everyone's head and out for a throw-in.

26'

Chester are in no hurry to take this throw.

Cole Adams hurls it down the line.

Roberts flicks it on...

But Leeds regain possession.

***

"Fuck me," I said, turning to Vikki. "That throw was dogshit."

Vikki got off the dugout and glared at me. "That's zero minutes on the training pitch. You don't want to put the time in but you want everything to be perfect? Don't put that one on me, Max Best! That's on you!"

I stomped around, mumbling profanities to myself. Cole had the option to take a quick throw but decided to waste a few more seconds, which resulted in the ball going straight back to Leeds. Had he taken the quick throw, we'd probably still be in possession. Sometimes, quicker was slower. I had taken the decision that we needed to increase our CA more than we needed to train set pieces. It was the right call, for sure, but it meant there would be moments like that one. I took a few steps towards Vikki and held my arms out. "Soz Hug?"

"I don't want a Soz Hug, I want minutes on the training pitch so I can do my job!"

I dropped one arm and turned. "Side Hug?"

She tutted and fell back into the dugout. I watched the action but a few seconds later I flicked my head back and caught her smiling.

***

Norfolk

Owen shuffles to the next card. "What's your favourite training drill?"

He leans left and looks right, through the patio doors and out to his freshly-destroyed garden. He puts his hand flat on the island counter and lifts it a fraction.

"I do like the solo ones that test agility. Shot, save, up, save, left, save, right, save. That's, like, technical mastery of the profession. I'm an expert. I like that. Sounds bratty but when I see the other goalies doing those drills, I know I'm the best. It gives me a sense of pride. Always has."

He raises his hand.

"The next level is co-op mode. That's, like, the goalies working as a team to save pennos and stuff like that. We don't always do Team A against Team B with one goalie per team; sometimes we do Goalies versus Strikers. It's really us against them for ten minutes and I love that because at most clubs, goalies get the short end of the stick in training. I'm not sure if making the keepers into a team is a Max Best invention but I've never done it before and it encourages us to share tips and lift each other up so we can shut out the strikers. They're a cocky lot and it's nice to take them down a peg or two."

He lifts his hand all the way up.

"But, ah, to be honest my favourite drill isn't a drill, it's the training matches." He pushes his hair back, then lets his hand fall. "Like at every club, the outfield lads do their stuff and we do ours and then we come together for a game. But at Chester, the coaches tell the goalies what's been going on in the other sessions so that we understand what the big sesh is about. That must sound bleeding obvious but at most of the clubs I've played for, we only find out what the outfielders did if one of them tells us over lunch or in the gym.

"Think about it. The outfielders are doing a new formation or a new tactic and you're in goal and you're trying to work it out in real time. It's not a big deal, I suppose, but at Chester I feel like I'm more part of the system, you know? If we're gonna do 4-5-1 in a match, I know that's what's coming. As a goalie, I have to do my specialised training but at Chester I'm not just a crazy guy who wraps himself in elastic bands and jumps around in the mud. I know I'm not the only one who finds it motivational. We feel like we're part of something. We're important."

***

30'

Lippincott steals the ball from Youngster.

Youngster chases and forces Lippincott backwards.

Lippincott gives the ball to Diego.

Diego to Treffens.

Treffens to Lippincott.

He's being hounded by Youngster.

Lippincott with a great move to get past the Ghanaian.

Evergreen tackles.

Lippincott knocks the ball past him.

Youngster comes close to intercepting, but Lippincott just about knocks the ball to Alvarez.

He shanks a cross that wrong-foots everyone.

The ball will fall kindly to Diego...

Great save by Elmham!

The ball rebounds to Connor-Thomas...

Fabulous save by Elmham!

Lippincott and Youngster rush towards the loose ball...

But Green hurls himself and scoops it towards safety.

Evergreen hacks the ball away.

There's a round of applause from both sets of fans.

That was breathless football!

***

Matt: Over half an hour gone in the North West and it's still frantic, it's still a nail-biter, but the possession stats have tilted slightly in favour of Chester. The introductions of Cheb Alloula - on-loan from Bayern Munich, no less - and Lewis Lamarre, formerly of Newcastle, have made the home side look much more like a Premier League team. Which I don't mean as a slight on the wonderful Colin Beckton or the promising Vincent Addo.

Ally: I think everyone knows what you mean, Matt. Chester's subs are playing like they have a point to prove, which is so often the case when we cover this club.

Matt: Lamarre has it now. He moves forward, but Lippincott is there. Lamarre cuts it back to Adams. Lippincott chases. Adams to Youngster. Lippincott chases. Youngster shapes to pass to Lamarre, which sends Lippincott, but this time it's a wild goose chase!

Ally: Brilliant disguise from Youngster. That even fooled the cameraman!

Matt: Evergreen on the ball now. My God, Lippincott is on the hunt once more. Where does he get the energy? Roberts takes over. Roberts, so highly rated in these parts, on a hat trick, remember. His two goals separating the teams as it stands. Gabriel. Bochum. He gestures to slow things down, but then a little burst of acceleration and he slips past Diego. Bochum lays it off to Roberts, pointing wide. Alloula is haring forward on the right. Roberts chips the ball over the top. Alloula gets there. First-time cross. Gabriel rises... but Zézé punches the ball away. That will do him the world of good. And there's applause from the away fans.

Ally: I think they've calmed down and realised the goals weren't Zézé's fault. They're well and truly behind their team now.

Matt: Still a great atmosphere. Still shaping up to be a cup classic. Still a long way to go. It's Chester 2, Leeds 0.

***

32'

Zach played a dreamy pass into the midfield that Youngster deflected towards Wibbers. It was so close to breaking Leeds's lines, but this Diego guy stuck out a leg and cut short our move.

"Well in, Zach!" cried Sandra.

34'

The Energizer Bunny's touch map must have already been looking bonkers because the guy popped up all over the place. I was a super-fit superhuman and even I was exhausted just watching him. I realised the touch map only told half the story, because he was just as active when we had the ball. The way we were making him run aimlessly like an out-of-control firework was broadly amusing, but fireworks ran out of fuel pretty fast. This guy?

"I need a nap," I said.

35'

Leeds worked a position for a long shot. It flew hard and true, right into Owen's midriff. He saved it with an air of disdain before remembering that it was in our interests to run down the clock. Thus, he fell to his stomach, clutching the ball tight.

That would have been cute in 2020 but the rules had changed and goalies couldn't just cling onto the ball endlessly. When Owen got up he saw the referee counting down on his fingers, and had to hurl the ball away in a hurry or the ref would give Leeds a corner kick. Owen's hasty throw gave the ball straight back to Leeds. Like the previous throw-in, we were killing ourselves with stupidity while thinking we were being clever.

I stormed towards the right of the technical area, a scream on my lips, but Sandra would only ask me to calm down and the more I ranted the less effect it would have. Instead of going Full Max I tried to dial it all the way to zero, which tripped me up. I collapsed to my knees, elbows on the turf, head down, moaning, "Come on. Use your fucking brain."

***

Norfolk

Owen went to the next flashcard. "You've been at Chester for a few months. Have you discovered the secret sauce of why they have been promoted four times in a row?"

He tapped the card against the countertop.

"Yeah, it's just Max. I'd love to give a surprising answer but it's just Max. He wants the standards to rise every day and if they don't he gets itchy. It's like an actual itch in his body. If you do a shit pass in training it causes him physical pain." He thinks about what he has just said. "Yeah, but then again he's quite tolerant of technical mistakes. One time, I messed up a save and he wandered over and he said, 'I noticed you went for that with your left hand. Was that because you fucked up your timing and couldn't get enough launch?' And, like, yeah." Owen grins. "Busted.

"But he wasn't mad. He made sure Kalvin, our assistant coach, noted the time so that he and Sticky could check the footage and help me work on it. But if you pass left instead of right, he makes a big deal of it. That's his mania. I've never heard the word 'decisions' as much as I have here. Other managers are interested in positions or structure or third man passes but Max is absolutely obsessed with what players do when they get the ball. You need the technique to play a pass or to move with the ball, you need the vision to see what's available, and you need the balls to take risks, but most of all, you need the clear-headedness to do the right thing." Owen shakes his head. "Honestly, I would have said someone trying to fix the brain of your average footballer is barking up the wrong tree, but... it seems to be working for him." He taps the table. "It seems to be working."

***

38'

Matt: Here come Leeds again. They've been knocking on the door more in the last few minutes. Can they find a way back into this match? Treffens with a neat pass wide. Buchholz waits for support, and gets it. Lippincott - who else? - overlaps. Buchholz moves forward and slides the ball behind Lamarre. Lippincott on the byline, sends in a cross... Elmham punches. Good distance!

Ally: Great punch. Got his team out of a jam there because Lamarre was under pressure. Best might be regretting changing his formation because he seems... Wait, it's changing again.

Matt: Alvarez gathers on the left. He works the ball to the right. Leeds seem to be favouring the right, because Alloula is playing so well on the other side. Buchholz takes the pass, but he's jostled by, er, Cole Adams, who is, er...

Ally: Chester have gone to 4-5-1. Adams is left midfield. Wait, now he's left back again. Lamarre left midfield.

Matt: Why do you think this change has been made?

Ally: I think that last Leeds attack showed that the 5-3-2 wasn't sustainable. Volker Stein has been making subtle tweaks and he was getting too much joy down the flanks, so Max Best has shored up the sides. On Chester's right is Alloula and Evergreen, on the left they have Adams and Lamarre. That's protection enough. In the middle they've got Roberts, Youngster, and Pascal Bochum. You could say it's lightweight but they have a lot of energy and it's three bodies. Plus, how long will it take Leeds to notice?

Matt: Judging by these shots of Volker Stein, they already have. He's deep in conversation with his assistants. What would you do if you were him?

Ally: I'd want to attack. Push bodies forward. You're 2-0 down and you've got to do something.

***

39'

It looks like Leeds United are adopting a more attacking outlook.

I covered my mouth with both hands, decided I probably looked ridiculous, and instead turned around, crouched, covered my head with my hood, and quietly yelled "Yesssssss!"

"What?" said Peter Bauer, who was close to me.

"He's throwing caution to the wind!"

Peter nudged Vikki. "I love when English people use indecipherable terms at moments of high tension."

I tutted. "It means I'm gonna fuck up another German."

Peter nudged Vikki again. "Lucky old Volker, eh?"

I laughed, faced the pitch, and tried to hide what I assumed was a savage, bloodthirsty expression while I created hot keys that would switch us from a defensive 4-5-1 to a counter-attacking 4-3-3 in the blink of an eye. I took a step forward and watched so intently I almost had an out-of-body experience. There was a perfectly good and decent man a few yards away from me, trying to do his job, and here I was setting traps for him. Any second now, his players, who were even more clueless and moronic than my lot, would set off the trap but it would be Volker who flew into the air, suspended in a dirty, leaf-lined trap.

I made a mental note to feel bad about that.

One day.

***

40'

Buchholz is the out-ball again. He slips away from Lamarre but can't get past Adams.

Buchholz scrambles the ball to Lippincott.

Lippincott looks for options.

Connor-Thomas is being marked closely by Green.

Lippincott rolls the ball to Connor-Thomas, who falls over.

No foul!

Green had dropped half a yard. There was clear daylight between him and the striker.

Green moves forward with the ball and plays a simple pass to Youngster.

Youngster fires a pass to Alloula, who lets the ball go through his legs.

Roberts takes it and sprints.

Suddenly, Chester have numbers in attack! Gabriel is there. Bochum is there. Lamarre is not far behind.

But Roberts is going to try to go it alone. He wants his hattrick!

Roberts approaches the edge of the penalty area. He shapes to shoot...

Treffens slides to make the block...

Roberts cuts onto his left foot and slides the ball through the defence.

The home fans are all on their feet!

Diego gets the slightest touch on the ball, diverting it away from Gabriel.

But Bochum reacts fastest. He's through on goal!

Bochum decides Lamarre is better placed and lays it off.

Lamarre shoots...

His shot goes just over!

The Chester manager celebrates as if his team had scored. That was great play!

***

"Yes!" I screamed. "Yes!"

I took a breath and thought about what I wanted to say next. What thought or feeling was inside me that I wanted to communicate to the world and to my players?

"Yes, yes, YES!"

***

44'

Matt: Nearing half-time and it's still frenetic. Still chaotic. Still end-to-end. Chester are dogged and patient, but breaking forward in numbers when they can. Leeds are spirited, tenacious, but wasteful. What do you think they need to change in the second half, Ally?

Ally: I'm not sure they will change anything. They've already made the big formation switch and have used three subs. They have attacked relentlessly. Maybe NCT will stop looking for cheap free-kicks and will get more involved in the build-up play. Chester have decided to let the ball go to him and then win the second ball and that way of handling him is paying big dividends. Someone needs to get hold of NCT and tell him to stay on his feet. That alone could make -

Matt: Connor-Thomas seems to have worked it out for himself! He took that pass from Treffens beautifully, controlled the ball, laid it off, and now Leeds are in a promising situation. Lippincott involved, as always. He looks for Buchholz on the right, but comes back towards the left. Youngster nearly nips the ball to Roberts.

Ally: That would have been curtains for Leeds, let me tell you.

Matt: Fine margins. Alvarez can't get past Alloula. He loses the ball. Chance for a break? Leeds win it back. Evergreen does well. Chester's ball. Lippincott appears. Nutmegs Bochum. Floats the ball into the box. Danger for Chester? Fierce with a big header. Buchholz gathers, bursts into the penalty area. Fierce slides to make the block, but Buchholz chops onto his left foot. He floats the ball to the far post. No-one's there! Alvarez stops the ball going out for a throw-in. He looks for options. Connor-Thomas awaits in the middle. Alvarez fizzes a pass to Lippincott. The ball pops up - poor first touch - but Lippincott improvises and plays the ball between Alloula and Green. Alvarez gets there first... and he's fouled! He goes down. The referee... points to the spot! Penalty kick! Penalty to Leeds United! With half-time looming.

Ally: Max Best and Sandra Lane have their heads in their hands because they were desperate for that half-time whistle to blow. It would have been an almost perfect first half.

Matt: It's going to be Nat Connor-Thomas against Owen Elmham. This could be a huge moment in the game.

Ally: Huge.

***

Norfolk

Owen has moved into the garden, where he has placed a crappy-looking but very comfortable camping chair. He checks his phone's tripod is stable, then turns over a flashcard. "Do you get nervous when there's a penalty kick?"

Owen grins.

"Not in the slightest. I love it. The pressure's all on the striker, isn't it? It's up to him to score." Owen closes his eyes and his voice takes on a wishful tone. "I tell you what, though. That feeling, when you make a save in front of a big crowd..." His eyes open. "Millions watching on TV... There's nothing like it. You're the hero, you saved the pen, you saved the day. You know everyone's gonna talk about you for days. Months, even. Years, in some cases. If I save a pen against Leeds and we win, I'll never have to buy a pint in Chester ever again. That's... Those are the moments you live for. Why do you get up early, why do you eat right, train hard, why do you say no to your friend's party, skip that holiday, why do you do all the things you do? Because when you save that penalty kick, it's all worth it. All worth it."

***

Matt: Connor-Thomas places the ball. Owen Elmham dances around on his goal line. He looks massive, Ally!

Ally: He does. He's a big lad. An absolute unit, as they say.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Matt: The referee is ready. Blows his whistle. Connor-Thomas settles into his routine. Quickly, Ally, will he score? Yes or no?

Ally: Yes.

Matt: And he has! Brilliant penalty, right into the corner, Elmham had no chance! Very well taken, and very well done, Ally.

Ally: To be fair, Connor-Thomas did most of the work.

***

45'

Matt: The half-time whistle blows! A pulsating half comes to an end, and something tells me the bars will be doing brisk business. It's Chester 2 Leeds 1, but it's all very much up for grabs. A place in the Quarter Finals awaits the winner! Join us for analysis from the studio after this short break.

***

My custom at half time was to let everyone settle down and decompress before getting into my feedback, but this time I tweaked the plan a little.

"Guys, listen up," I said, and held my hands up until I had everyone's attention. "Couple of things before you go internal. Colin and Vini, brilliant. You played your parts to perfection. Wibbers, mate, can you calm down? Every time you play like this, Real Madrid activate their robocall machines and it takes Briggy a week to block all the numbers. Cole, brilliant, Youngster, brilliant. The plan is to take you off now but I'm gonna lie down and have a think to double-check we're doing the right thing. If you can stay alert for a bit, just in case, that'd be top. Peter and Joel, you're up next anyway. If the change doesn't happen in the break, it'll happen soon, okay?"

I paused. It might have been better not to say anything about subs because now I had four people in a state of uncertainty. Another way of looking at it was that I had four people in a state of preparation. I decided not to beat myself up - no-one gets everything right.

Which brought me to, "Zach. Zachy Zachy Zach." I dipped my head and did a tiny, rueful smile. "When you watch the match back, you might see some footage of me jumping around like an irate primate, and if you ask Dani to read my lips, a lot of the words will be the word Zach and there will be some cursing. I just want to let you know..." He eyed me with some apprehension. "I want you to know that all that footage is AI. It's deepfakes. I would never." Sandra snorted, which made Zach dip his head, but his Morale held steady.

Sandra said, "I'm loving how you're playing. It's almost perfect. I'd rate that performance 44 out of 45, Zach."

He crunched his knuckles against his jaw, which was a weird habit of his. "I know I fucked up that one time. I'm sorry, fellas."

"Hey, look," I said. "In the moment, it was frustrating, but whatever. We all do crazy shit, except me. Who did the foul for the penalty?" I knew from the curse commentary, but it was a chance for me to pretend not to be omniscient.

Zach pointed to Cheb; Cheb pointed to Zach.

That scene made me smile. "Right, listen. Letting NCT collect the ball isn't ideal but the biggest danger from Leeds is from set pieces, so we stick to the plan. Let NCT take the ball, let them try to build something close to our goal. You've seen how shit their final pass and their final cross is. Think of it as a very advanced form of baiting Leeds into our territory."

"Oh, that's good," said Peter, nodding.

"We're still looking deadly from counters, but we're going to 3-4-2-1 for the second half so I expect us to have longer and longer periods of control. Purposeful play, lads. The best way to eat the clock is by playing attacking football. Keep them running back towards their own goal. Keep trying to score. I'm getting off track. Zach, this whole speech is about you. How you played towards the end was the perfect blend of aggression and brains. Give me more of that. I want that late-stage Zachitalism, okay?"

There was a groan. Livia was giving Magnus a calf massage on one of the treatment tables. (He had taken a knock but was fine to continue.) Livia's hands stopped moving. "Aren't you going to say, cut that, that's terrible?"

"No way! That's my best line ever!" I rubbed my eyebrow. I had wanted to keep some flexibility in my options in case Volker Stein did something radical, but to optimise the use of Bench Boost, I had put our formation on rails to a large extent and the odds of Volker changing tactics were long. If he switched back to 3-5-2 I would quit football and become a celebrity hermit. "Christ, I've done most of the speech already, haven't I? Might as well finish. Second half we're doing our default formation. Three centre backs, which will help with the crosses. Joel gives us fresh legs in the heart of midfield. Leeds will keep working the width and we'll suffer and they'll get chances but we'll absolutely dick them by hitting the space they leave. I have to say, lads, that if we play like we did in the first half, we'll win. Pretty simple. Take it easy for a while and we'll get back together at the end of the break."

There was an outbreak of chat. Player on player, player on coach, coach on coach.

"Boss," said Owen.

I stepped closer to him. "Yo."

"Got any feedback for me?"

"Um, no. You've been top. Nothing to say."

"Nothing?"

"I mean, flopping on the ball and then chucking it away wasn't the smartest thing you've ever done. And then when you yelled at Wibbers for not being eighteen feet tall, AKA the height he would have needed to be to get to your throw... I mean, yeah. Some room for improvement there, but fair play, you waited until I'd maxed out my rage card for the day before doing that."

He nodded. "I was trying to waste a couple of seconds."

"I know. That shit gets counter-productive fast, though, doesn't it?" I pulled at my hoodie; the back was all clammy. "Don't sweat it, Owen, but think about how you can level up on that." I looked up for inspiration. "In that moment, you were asking yourself how to waste time. Instead, ask yourself how we can win. Quick release to a player in space when Leeds are unstructured - you know how frantic they get. Pascal will draw a foul and then it's Leeds killing the clock, isn't it? Throw it to Wibbers in space and he might let a defender come and knock the ball against his shins and out for a throw. That's way smarter, isn't it?"

"Or they'll lose the ball and it'll come straight back at us."

I shrugged. "Then you'll have a shot to save. You like that, don't you?"

Peter Bauer had been listening. "We don't want to make the referee think we're wasting time because then he'll be on high alert for that behaviour. If you do a couple of quick throws towards Wibbers or Pascal, the ref's gonna think you've been told to speed things up. By Max, a renowned crazy person who doesn't let his players take the ball into the corner. Two quick throws early on and you'll get a good ten minutes of being able to rush to the edge of the box as though you're going to chuck it, which will make the ref run into midfield, and when you don't actually throw the ball it'll seem like you really wanted to. You won't be able to stand there for half a minute but you could get an extra ten seconds."

"This," I said. "This. Narrative time-wasting. Contextual."

Peter said, "Quick, quick, slow, slow, quick. Mix it up. Manage the ref, not the clock, and the clock will take care of itself."

Owen said, "There's one we used to do at Norwich where we'd get a free kick and an oppo would stand in front of the ball to stop us taking it quick and we'd smack the ball into them and pretend to be angry they were blocking us. That was a good one."

"Yes!" I cried. "Give me some of that! But don't pretend to be angry. Those fucks are stopping our counter-attacks! Gabby was wide open and this cheating fuck blocked the pass!"

Owen nodded. "Got it."

"You two can brainstorm if you want," I said. "That half was gruelling, wasn't it? I need a shower."

***

46'

I couldn't believe what I read in the seconds before the match restarted.

It looks like Leeds have adopted a more cautious approach.

"What the - ?"

I scanned Stein's team and player instructions and found he had made a few tweaks. The team's overall mentality had shifted from attacking to normal. The right back had been told not to make forward runs. A couple of players had been set to pressing: no.

I pulled at my lip, worried. What did this mean?

Without really thinking about it, I made a couple of tweaks of my own. I moved Wibbers from being the right-most CAM to the right wing and instructed Zach, Peter, Magnus, and Cheb to pass to the right. When Alvarez joined the Leeds attacks he would leave acres of space. Wibbers would be there, and when we got the ball, our passes would go to him.

I'd made the changes before we even kicked off, and then it was a case of yelling instructions to Wibbers to disguise my powers. Leeds were attacking the away end this half, and we were attacking the McNally, which meant that Alvarez and Wibbers would be right in front of me for as long as I was in the technical area.

The match kicked off and there was a marked drop in tempo from Leeds. Why? It was inexplicable.

***

47'

Matt: Those changes from Chester have slowed things down, Ally. Can you work out what's happening?

Ally: Chester look close to their strongest team, I'd say, and this is the shape they've been using in recent matches. It should give them more opportunity to control the ball than they have had so far, but what I'm seeing is a bigger change in Leeds. Of the defenders, only Alvarez has crossed the halfway line.

Matt: That's to guard against counter-attacks, do you think?

Ally: I think it's Volker Stein giving Chester the kind of respect he gives a Premier League club. He came here with Championship tactics hoping to blow a lower-league team out of the water but he's found he's up against a battleship. His guns are longer so he's staying out of range and he'll blast Chester from afar.

Matt: Have you been reading your war books again?

Ally: Maybe.

Matt: It's Alvarez motoring on the left. Chester look lighter on that side with only Cheb Alloula stationed there full-time. Alvarez jinks past Alloula but doesn't hit the cross. Why not?

Ally: It's three defenders against one striker in the middle. He's waiting for support.

Matt: He finds it from Lippincott. The American tries a chip over the defence, but it's well read by Christian Fierce. He cushions the ball with his head, and it's picked up by Peter Bauer. He feeds Evergreen, who bounces the pass to Joel Reid. Reid on his left foot plays a ball wide right. William Roberts is there! He's all on his own! Alvarez is trying to get back but he won't make it in time! Roberts sprints down the right. He's got Gabriel and Bochum level with him. Treffens moves out to block Roberts. Roberts pushes the ball past, Treffens tries to foul him, Roberts uses his strength to brush Treffens off.

Ally: Wow!

Matt: Roberts clear. It's three against two in the middle. Roberts with the chance to score an FA Cup hat trick. He's bearing down on goal. Gabriel darts away to the edge of the six-yard box. Roberts passes to him. Gabriel lets the ball roll through his legs. Who's behind him? Bochuuuuuuuummm!

[The Chester fans erupt.]

Matt: Pascal Bochum smashes the ball into the back of the net! Chester regain their two-goal lead! It's another extraordinary counter-attacking goal. Volker Stein's plans lay in tatters - he plugged one gap but Chester found another. This is unbelieeevable.

Ally: Brilliant. Look what it means to the Chester fans. Look what it means on the benches. This - You know what, Matt? This is a statement of intent. Chester mean business.

***

48'

It looks like Leeds have adopted a more cautious approach.

It was while I was being squashed between Ian Swan and Helge Hagen that I saw the message. I extricated myself from the hug, crouched, and focused. Alvarez had been told to stop making forward runs. Diego, the most defensive of the three midfielders, had dropped to DM. Lippincott had been pulled back from AM to CM.

Amazing. We had them on the ropes and Volker Stein was in damage limitation mode. I tried to put myself in his shoes. Step one, emergency haircut, shave, and a new jacket. Step two, take the sting out of the game. Stop getting suckered by counter-attacks. Step three, assume a lower league team has worse fitness than you. Make them run more, move more. Step four, in the last ten minutes, put on the afterburners.

"Yeah," I said. "That's what I'd do."

Do what the enemy doesn't want you to do, said Sun Tzu.

He do opposite, said one of the imps.

If Volker wanted my guys to run around like headless chickens, I'd have to disappoint him. What was my best formation in terms of defensive structure? I wished I had 5-4-1 as an option; it would have been perfect in this scenario. Having five defenders gave even shit teams a chance of stopping attacks, while the four midfielders would slow down attacks, stop some at source, and be on hand to win the second balls (headed clearances, weird rebounds and the like).

I had 4-5-1, but NCT was really dangerous from crosses and if you could have three CBs against him, you felt much more secure than if he was only facing two. That said, having a full back and a wide midfielder on both sides meant there wouldn't be tons of crosses coming in. Fewer crosses, probably rushed and from sub-optimal angles, but a higher chance of NCT making good contact if one did come in.

What else did I have? 5-3-2 was decent in terms of having that annoying bank of five defenders, but it wasn't as strong down the sides because the '3' were central.

I mentally slapped myself in the face - I had the solution in my arsenal! I set us in 4-1-4-1 with Peter Bauer as the DM, and slid him into the back line. 5-4-1, baby!

Team mentality defensive.

Gabby, Wibbers, Pascal, no pressing for you. Save your energy, lads.

What else? I moved the Game Speed slider down one notch, which would encourage my guys to take their time over free kicks and so on. I would nudge it lower and lower until the ref seemed about to turn on us. I moved the Gamesmanship slider towards 'angelic', because in the current match state there was no need for us to do anything stupid.

Then I waited to see how that would play out.

***

49'

Leeds bring the ball forward. Treffens finds Lippincott.

Lippincott dribbles, but runs out of space. He turns and plays a simple pass.

Alvarez tries an ambitious chip over the top.

Connor-Thomas chases it, but Christian Fierce shepherds the ball out of play.

Elmham isn't rushing to gather the ball.

51'

Leeds on the move again. They work the ball from left to right.

Connor-Thomas comes short to get a touch, then jogs forward again.

Leeds can't find space; the midfield is highly congested.

Lippincott attempts a through-ball, but it is easily cut out by Bauer.

Lippincott charges at the German, who evades the challenge with ease.

Bauer finds Alloula. He gives the ball to Roberts, who delays his pass.

Roberts is clattered by Alvarez.

Free kick to Chester.

They won't be in any hurry to take it.

But wait! Peter Bauer sprinted across and tried to hit a cross-field pass to Bochum on the far left.

Alvarez blocked the pass!

The Chester players are furious. It's all kicking off!

***

52'

Peter had done brilliantly to waste a bit of time, but something about the situation gave me a mega dose of stress. Volker Stein and his assistants were looking at an iPad. Had one of them only just realised how radically I had changed our plans? The last thing I wanted was for Volker to be able to communicate new orders to his guys, so I rushed to the edge of the pitch.

"Play! Hurry! Come on!"

Peter and Wibbers didn't know why I wanted it, but they knew I wanted it, so they sent Owen back into the penalty area and played the ball to Zach. The game was back on and with any luck it would be a minute before the next stoppage. We were in a nice lull state. Leeds needed their full backs to join attacks otherwise we would outnumber them everywhere, but the full backs were currently under instructions to stay put. How long could I stretch it so that Stein simply couldn't give them new orders?

I slid the Game Speed slider to its maximum, the soccer version of American Football's no-huddle offense. Play, play, play! Keep rolling! No time for the oppo to think. Faster, pussycat, kill kill kill!

The plan worked a treat. With our numerical advantage, we passed the ball around defence and midfield with impressive ease, and when Leeds knocked it out for a throw-in, we threw it right back into play.

It was amazing.

We drained minutes from the clock while Volker Stein got more and more animated on the touchline.

Finally, he snapped.

***

54'

Matt: And now Zézé has hit the deck and he's asking for a physio to treat him. I wonder if we can find a replay of the incident that's bothering him.

Ally: You'll be waiting a long time for that footage, Matt. This is a tactical time out for Leeds because they haven't been in this half at all.

Matt: Oh, it's one of those?

Ally: Max Best thinks so. Look!

Matt: As the Leeds players rush to the touchline to get new instructions, so do the Chester players. But wait - they're going to the Leeds area. What are they playing at?

Ally: They're yelling and shouting. Making noise so the Leeds players can't hear Volker.

Matt: Behind Zézé's goal, a child has emerged carrying an enormous bouquet of flowers. The advertising hoardings now read: Have you experienced an unexplained goalkeeper injury? Then you need UGI dot co dot uk.

Ally: The big screen, look.

Matt: The little girl with the flowers is holding a card, which is being displayed for all to see. It says, Sorry for your loss... of sportsmanship. Well, that's rich coming from Max Best, but it is funny.

Ally: Haha, this is absolute chaos. There's craziness happening all around. Behind the Leeds dugout, the Chester fans are whirling those wooden noisemaker things from the olden days. What are they called, Matt?

Matt: Are you hinting that I'm old? I think they're called rattle clackers. The vuvuzelas of the 1950s! Those ones have been painted blue and white. Lovely collector's item for those fans, if they're allowed to take them home. Well, Zézé is on his feet and he's being soundly booed by the Harry McNally terrace.

Ally: That is just as noisy and intimidating as the Leeds fans. What an atmosphere we have today. I wonder if Stein got his message across with all that going on?

***

It looks like Leeds have adopted a more attacking approach.

It looks like Chester have adopted a more attacking approach.

***

59'

Lamarre takes the ball down the line, checks, passes infield to Reid.

Reid to Bochum. Back to Reid.

Lippincott challenges. Reid uses Bochum as his out-ball.

Bochum to Roberts. Roberts rolls the ball under his feet as they exchange positions.

Bochum to Evergreen. He goes right to Alloula.

Alloula crashes a big diagonal to the far side.

Lamarre chases and keeps the ball in play.

He advances and thrashes the ball across goal.

Gabriel can't get on the end of it!

The ball goes out for a throw-in, which is taken quickly by Alvarez.

He throws it to Zézé. Boos shake the stadium.

Zézé goes long. Connor-Thomas wins the header, flicks it on.

Lippincott gives chase. He gets to the ball first and touches it past Green.

Green backs out of the challenge just in time to avoid a certain red, but Lippincott is away!

He's bearing down on goal...

He shapes to shoot...

But drags the ball onto his left. He knocks the ball past Elmham...

Who throws out an arm and slaps the ball away.

He had to time that just right - and he did!

60'

Cross from Buchholz...

Fierce beats Connor-Thomas to it!

61'

Cross from Alloula...

Treffens beats Gabriel to it!

62'

Pressure from Leeds... but the move breaks down.

Chester surge into space.

If Roberts can get past Treffens, it will be three against two...

But Treffens does superbly.

Roberts is starting to tire.

***

63'

Wibbers's match rating had dipped from 10 to 9, and his Condition was plummeting. He had been kicked to bits, especially by that thug Diego, and the match was mentally draining. I had planned to replace Magnus and play midfield, but I could do the Wibbers role, too. Humiliating that cheat Zézé seemed like a good use of one of my goals for the season.

Before starting my warm-up, I took stock.

Leeds were at CA 145 and showed no signs of tiring.

We had four Bench Boosted players on the pitch, and if they were all playing 10% above their usual levels, that would give us... I did some fast maths... an average of 136.7, with Cheb playing like he was CA 165.

Just over 8 points of CA difference between the sides. With me (boosted) replacing Wibbers, we'd be close. Very close.

I fixed my shinpads, made sure my boots were laced right, and jogged along the touchline.

I'm pleased to report that this caused the home faithful to go, in the words of the poet W.H. Auden, 'fucking mental'.

***

Norfolk

Owen's still in his garden. He takes a card. "Who's the best player you've ever played against?"

The big man stares for a few seconds.

"It's probably Harry Kane. No backlift, shoots from anywhere, always seemed to be on target. Headers. Just clinical in the penalty box, lethal, but he could drop deep and hurt you from his own half with his vision and passing." Owen blinks. "Wait, was I supposed to say Max? He's not that good. Hahaha."

***

65'

I was ready to replace Wibbers when I saw something that gave me pause. "Cancel that," I said to the fourth official.

"No sub?" he said.

"I need to check my dude," I said. "One minute."

I walked away and summoned Physio Dean. "Yes, Max?"

I pointed. "Is Magnus hobbling?" His Condition had dropped below 60%. This felt incredibly familiar. A cup tie in which I was about to make one sub but was forced to replace Magnus? That had happened before, hadn't it? I brushed the thought away - things repeated.

At the next stoppage, Dean rushed on to check on Magnus. I planned to replace him anyway, but this was a legitimate delay in the game and the ref wouldn't necessarily add all this wasted time to the end.

I told the fourth official what I had decided and soon after, Magnus walked off. I hugged him and sprinted on, followed by a spine-tingling wall of noise that came from three sides of the ground.

"Wibbers," I called out. "Energy-saving mode. You're on to the end, yeah?"

"Yeah," he said, looking serious but secretly pleased as punch. "Manage my fitness. Got it. What are you going to do?"

"Little old me?" I said. "Just keep it simple, I guess."

***

66'

Matt: Chester's new-look midfield is Lewis Lamarre on the left, Joel Reid, Max Best, and Cheb Alloula. All four have come on as subs and should be fresh. Here's a chance for Best to get involved. He takes a pass from Green and looks to help it on his way.

[Laughter from the crowd.]

Ally: Ha!

Matt: Best, under pressure from Lippincott, kicked fresh air, and Lippincott went chasing like a dog after a bone. Best glided away in the other direction. Lippincott is chasing him. Best is weaving around. He touches the ball to Bochum, turns, sprints, and gets the ball on the other side of Lippincott. Best... Did he slow down to let Lippincott get closer?

Ally: He's taunting him, but that's a dangerous game.

Matt: Best clips a ball over the defensive line and out of nowhere, Gabriel is free. Best, Bochum, Roberts, are moving to support the Brazilian. Gabriel is closed down and wins a throw-in. Best falls onto his backside and holds his leg up. He's claiming he has cramp. The Leeds players are not impressed! Some pushing and shoving.

Ally: This is stupid. They need to score two goals, not get sucked into Best's games.

Matt: Look at Diego. The Paraguayan midfielder is having words with Gabriel, the Brazilian. No love lost there, it seems.

***

68'

Leeds win the ball and move it quickly.

Treffens finds Lippincott, who is challenged by Best.

Lippincott holds onto the ball and lays it off.

Best tracks Lippincott's run.

The move breaks down.

***

70'

Lippincott wins the ball and drives forward.

He's stopped by Best.

Best tries to break but is hauled down by Lippincott.

No free kick, says the referee!

***

72'

The tension is growing in the Deva Stadium.

Chester are within 20 minutes of an upset. Can they hold on?

***

73'

Matt: Good play from Buchholz. He gets past Lamarre. Buchholz whips in a cross. Connor-Thomas is there! Great save by Elmham!

Ally: Great save.

Matt: Connor-Thomas has been kept quiet by Chester's centre backs but he was in the right place at the right time and the cross was perfect. Elmham showed amazing agility but should Connor-Thomas have done better?

Ally: I don't think he could have done more, Matt. Into the corner, good pace. You've got to credit the keeper on that one. But it's a warning for Chester. Leeds are still in this!

Matt: They seem to be finding their feet again. We could be in for a dramatic finish.

***

Norfolk

Owen is looking at the stack of flashcards. He looks around his empty garden. "I'll say one thing about Max as a player. He might be the best free kick taker I've ever faced. Top left, top right, pace, power, but disguise, too. He can stand almost on top of the ball and with no backlift just sort of chip it over the wall, low into the corner. If you look away for a second, he can do you, but in a match he doesn't have to shoot, he can send in a cross, too, so you've got to know where everyone is. It's even worse now that he's hooked up with Vikki - strictly in a footballing sense - because she has mad ideas for routines and Max can turn them into reality. It's all a bit of a nightmare, to be honest, but it's making me a better goalie."

***

74'

Elmham claims the cross! He collapsed onto his chest.

The referee begins to count on his fingers.

Elmham, still prone, pushes the ball to Bauer. Leeds weren’t expecting that!

Bauer clips it to Lamarre.

He sends it down the line for Bochum to chase.

The nearest defender slides in but Bochum lifts the ball over him.

That was rash! Leeds are wide open now.

Bochum rushes into the space, moving inside.

He slips the ball right, into the path of Roberts.

But Roberts is barged off his feet before he can get there!

The referee awards the free kick.

It's in a dangerous position.

***

Matt: No yellow card for that challenge! The referee is certainly being lenient today.

Ally: To be fair, it has helped the game to flow but I do think a few Leeds tackles have crossed the line, and Zach Green should have been booked for his, ah, challenge on NCT earlier.

Matt: Chester taking their time to line up this free kick. Will Max Best shoot?

Ally: I expect he will. It's quite far out but the angle's appealing. It's almost level with the right-hand post, maybe 30, 35 yards out. He can certainly hit them from there.

Matt: Roberts is facing the ball with his back to goal. Are they trying to block Zézé's view?

Ally: This reminds me of something...

Matt: The referee tells Chester to hurry up. Here we go... Roberts stands over the ball. It's between his feet. He flicks them together and the ball pops up! Best side-foots it on the volley, over the defence to the left. Lewis Lamarre is running that way - the ball's falling into his path - Lamarre side-foots it across goal. Zézé tries to get there and does enough to deflect the ball out of Gabriel's path - he would have had an open goal! Zézé nearly made a complete hash of that but he got away with it. The ball's gone through everyone.

Alloula's on the right. He comes back and clips the ball left-footed into the loaded area. Green jumps. Treffens wins it. Not cleared. Bochum chips the ball back in. Connor-Thomas is back helping out. He heads away. Sustained pressure from Chester. Roberts lines up a long shot but Lippincott robs him and now it's Leeds United with the break. Bodies streaming to our left, four yellows, three blue-and-whites. Best catches up with Lippincott. Best wins the ball! Everyone turns and runs the other way again!

Best on his left foot, Best with the stepover, Best on his right, Best lets fly! Oh my word, what a save from Zézé! The ball was hit with venom and veered wildly.

Ally: That's a top-tier save. He's kept his club in this match.

Matt: It's only partially cleared again. Some pinball in the penalty area. It falls to Gabriel, facing away from goal, just outside the box. And now Diego has clattered into him! Diego had launched himself into Gabriel! Studs up, into the chest. A kung fu kick!

Ally: Red. Red all day long.

Matt: Concern for Gabriel, who is in serious pain down there.

Ally: Let's hope he hasn't broken some ribs, or worse. That was a nasty, nasty challenge from Diego. They had a coming-together earlier they've been at each other ever since.

Matt: Yellow card! He has only given yellow. A reprieve for Diego.

Ally: Max Best has gone apoplectic.

Matt: Best is having to be restrained by his teammates. It's not nice to see but can you blame him, really? His player is in agony and there's - [Matt audibly winces.] There's the replay. That's a dreadful challenge. Studs up into the abdomen. Worthy of an MMA fighter, but it has no place on a football pitch.

Ally: And he drags his foot down into the groin, too. It's unbelievable the ref hasn't seen that. Diego will get a long ban for that, I'm sure, but it doesn't help Chester today. There's no VAR and they have used all their subs. They're down to ten men!

***

Various parts of Gabby's profile turned red and his Condition dropped to 30%. His injury tab read 'potential abdominal injury'. Yeah, you think? They'd be peeling that prick Diego's studs out of Gabby's torso for months.

When Dean and Livia arrived on the scene, I hovered for a few seconds and heard what I expected, which was Gabby saying, "I play, I play. Is no pain. I play."

I knelt beside him and said, "Gabby, shut the fuck up." I waited until he closed his mouth, then nodded. "Stay here. You get on a stretcher. You go to the medical room with Dean. If this match goes to extra time, maybe you can come back. Maybe you can take a penalty. Can you take a penalty for me?"

"Sim, sim, sim."

"Right. So do as you're fucking told. Don't stand up. Don't move. Listen to Dean. You understand?"

"Sim. Yes."

I got up and walked towards the dugout. I didn't have a plan but I had to go somewhere and do something because my anger, which I thought had been fully spent in the first half, was all the way back. Livia jogged to me. "Max, he can't come back for extra time or penalties."

"I know. This match isn't going to extra time."

She nodded and rushed back to Gabby's side. As I paced towards the dugout, some ideas came to me. "Joe," I called, waving at the little box from where Joe Anka controlled the video screens and played music. The door opened and he jogged down the stairs. I told him what I wanted him to do next. He listened and jogged back up the steps - rather more slowly.

Sandra said, "Is it bad?"

It took me a second to realise she meant Gabby’s injury, not Joe Anka’s fitness. "Not mega bad, I don't think, but he's out for a couple of weeks at least." I rubbed my temple. In the past, I had been bitten in the arse for using all five subs too early. This time, I had saved one until relatively late in the game and it had still bitten me in the arse. "Wibbers is getting very tired, we're down to ten. What's the play?" I saw something behind her, clapped her on the arm, and said, "Think about it for a second."

I moved past her to the police guy who hung around the tunnel area. Most big football matches had one of these guys. "All right, Max?"

"I want to press charges against that guy. Actual bodily harm. Affray. Reckless endangerment."

The cop looked embarrassed. "Max, come on. You know we can't... What happens on the pitch, it's..."

New strategy. I covered my mouth. "That Diego fuck is from Paraguay. He doesn't know the law, or he can't be sure. Get me a dozen uniforms behind the goal over there so I can tell him you're going to arrest him after the match ends."

"Max, Jesus Christ."

"You don't have to do it! I'm just gonna scare the shit out of him!"

"Max, this is dark."

Just then, an angry roar emerged from all around us. The cop and I looked up at the big screen, where Diego's foot was crashing into poor Gabby's unprotected body in slow motion, again and again. "That's dark," I said.

The cop blew air from his cheeks. "I don't know."

"Chris. Mate. All you're gonna do is go behind the goal. If anyone asks, we'll say it was my idea to stop angry drunks in the McNally exacting their own retribution against the Leeds player. We're protecting him, right?"

His eyes darted left and right, but then locked onto the big screen again. Joe had added some text: One of these teams is down to ten men. Chris the cop was a Chester fan. His eyes blazed. "Looks to me like this gentleman is in genuine need of protection, Max."

He stepped into the tunnel, away from the TV cameras, and talked into his walkie-talkie thing.

I went to Sandra. She said, "I still think we need to block the wings as much as poss. Can Peter play right back?"

I had to drag myself back into the world of tactics and formations. "Peter at right back? It's not ideal." I loved my three centre backs but Christian, Zach, and Peter were not very flexible. Peter could play as a sweeper, which was a dead position, and he was competent as a defensive midfielder, but he was a pretty garbage right back, surprisingly. "I know what you're saying. 4-4-1."

"Peter will have Cheb in front of him. Together they should be good enough. On the other side, Lewis and Pascal. That's fast. You and Joel in midfield, Wibbers on his own."

I shook my head. "He's not got the energy for that. He can play central midfield. Keep in the shape and ping long passes for me to chase, that'll be the tactic. If we can get through another ten minutes, Leeds will get more desperate and will push everyone forward."

The stretcher bearers went past. Pall bearers more like, burying our chances of winning.

Sandra gave me a nudge towards the McNally terrace. I pottered towards it, head down. The ref came over and said, "You can't put that on the screen! You know the rules."

"You don't know the rules, bro. Look at it and tell me that's not a straight red card."

"Take it off the screen."

"Nope."

"You'll regret this."

"Not as much as you'll regret it if Gabby dies from the internal bleeding. Tomorrow's Daily Mail front page. Death at the Deva. Coward Ref Causes Death of Player. Shock As Horror Tackle Goes Unpunished."

We'd arrived at the spot the free kick was to be taken from. I told my players to clear off - I was going to take this one. I would sweep the ball gently over the wall into the top left. I could already feel my foot making contact. Guaranteed goal. I would use the Free Hit perk but wouldn't need to. I had this in the bag. But then I saw Leeds forming their defensive wall, five men with Diego in the centre. I walked towards him and pointed to the line of policemen who were moving along the sides of the pitch. Six on one, half a dozen on the other, moving slowly but purposefully towards the goal. "That's for you, mate. Prison tonight. Bye-bye!"

He swore at me in Spanish.

"Bye-bye!"

I took the ball, placed it, walked back about ten yards, faced the front, sprinted, and kicked the ball as hard as I possibly could. It hit Diego on the ear and deflected about two inches wide of the left-hand post.

"Ooh!" went the McNally.

Cheb came up to me. "Don't you just hate it when a free kick hits the wall?"

"Yeah," I said.

"You did that on purpose. You aimed for his head."

"No, I aimed for his throat. Cheb, Lewis, Pascal. Take the corner. Keep it in the corner."

Pascal's jaw dropped. "You want us to keep the ball in the corner?"

"Yep."

They did as they were told. Cheb rolled the ball to Lewis, who had his back to the Leeds players. They wrestled him, tried to get around him, but when he was about to lose the ball, Lewis passed it to Pascal, who sprinted right then immediately turned left, and nudged the ball to Cheb just before getting clattered.

Foul, close to the corner flag.

"Again," I called out.

They did it again, but this time, Cheb kicked the ball against a yellow shin and we got another corner. The McNally celebrated as though we'd scored.

"Now," I said.

The three guys lined up in the same way. The Leeds players had to stand ten yards back until the ball was kicked, and Pascal made a great deal out of showing that they weren't far enough back. Cheb faked to roll the ball to Lewis, causing what in the NFL would have been called a false start, but as Pascal complained to the ref, Cheb clipped the ball twenty yards to where I had snuck into space.

I rolled the ball to my right, counted to two, and had a crack.

It flew straight and true, at first, but faded ever so slightly and drifted wide.

"Christ," I said.

At least one good thing would come out of this farce of a match - my shot accuracy stats would be destroyed.

***

82'

Matt: The pressure continues to build on Chester as Leeds pile forward, almost recklessly. It's wave after wave of attacks now and they're coming from all angles. Wesley Lippincott is everywhere. Treffens is striding forward with the ball and he seems to be targeting William Roberts as the weak link in Chester's midfield.

Ally: That's right, Matt. Chester swapped Roberts with Cheb Alloula for a couple of minutes but that just meant more attacks came down the Leeds left instead of the middle. Chester are well and truly under the cosh and it's through no fault of their own.

Matt: Buchholz is on the right. Time running out for Leeds. That's neat play from the away team, though. Chester are beginning to tire. Here's an overload on the right. Buchholz will cross. Oh, that was so close to Connor-Thomas! Cleared on the far post by Peter Bauer.

Ally: That's one advantage to having a centre back at right back - he's not going to miss back post headers.

Matt: Alvarez in possession. He flings in a cross. And it's in! Connor-Thomas with a huge header. That was immense! No chance for the goalkeeper.

Ally: Wow. What was the hang time on that?

Matt: Connor-Thomas found a pocket of space between Green and Fierce and the cross was planted right onto his head. He pumps his fist towards the away end, where 4,000 Leeds fans are going wild. No big celebrations from the Leeds players, though. They need one more goal to send us into extra time.

***

I abandoned the current formation and went back to 3-4-2-1, but without the 1. Earlier in the game I had man-marked Lippincott until I got bored and that had gone pretty well. I decided to do that again.

***

84'

Leeds work the ball to the left. Alvarez is closed down by Alloula.

The ball goes to Lippincott, who is immediately hounded by Best.

Lippincott tries a turn but Best anticipates it and stabs the ball away.

Best with the chance to break - but Lippincott tugs his shirt and stops him.

Best pounds the turf in frustration.

Lippincott gets a yellow card.

Roberts gives the referee some sarcastic applause. He gets a yellow card.

The Chester fans are furious.

86'

Leeds attack. They work an overload. A cross comes in...

But Fierce deals with it.

Reid is under pressure but he lifts the ball away.

Bochum turns into trouble and Lippincott emerges with possession.

Best slides in and hooks the ball to Roberts. He's hounded on all sides so gives it to Bauer.

Bauer wasn't expecting that! Connor-Thomas takes the ball from Bauer...

But he falls over inside the penalty area. Was that a foul? The Leeds fans are baying for a penalty!

It's given!

The ref has given a penalty!

The Chester players can't believe it. They feel that Connor-Thomas dived.

But the assistant referee is waving his flag.

The referee jogs over to have a word with him.

There's a delay as players from both sides have their say. Many are pointing to the big screen.

A replay of the incident is being shown. That will get Chester into hot water.

A roar of anger from the home fans says what they think about it.

The referee is jogging to the penalty area...

He has given a free kick to Chester! And a yellow card to Connor-Thomas for simulation!

The right decision was reached in the end.

***

87'

"Cheat! Cheat! Cheat!"

"Same old Le-eds, always cheating!"

"Cheat fell over! Cheat fell over!"

"Boooooo!"

***

89'

Leeds weren't even pretending to have any defensive shape any more. They were doing a full-court press, chasing us every time we got the ball, hounding us mercilessly. With eleven players we had been able to maintain possession for spells, but with ten, with so many of our players so fatigued, we had no chance.

I thought about doing Relationism for a couple of minutes just to mess with Leeds, but Relationism involved lots of running and it was the last thing we needed right now.

No, I didn't have much to offer in the way of tactical genius. This was all about survival. Holding on for dear life. We had to suffer, suffer, suffer.

***

Norfolk

Owen Elmham is walking around his barren garden, alternately smiling and frowning. "This is actually weird, this. It's stranger than I thought it would be, seeing just nuthink." He pauses. "But that's what I wanted, wasn't it? A clean start. A fresh start. Reset. The chance to do things my way, to put my mark on things." He nods. "I'm 36 years old, but I ain't finished." He looks at the camera and smiles. "I'm gonna win the second half, lads. You watch."

***

90'

Matt: The fourth official is about to reveal how time the referee has decided to add on.

[Despair from the crowd.]

Matt: NINE minutes. Nine!

Ally: We had that long injury delay and lots of other stoppages. It's harsh on Chester but it's about right.

Matt: Can Chester hang on? Leeds are all over them right now.

***

91'

Low cross from the right.

Stabbed away.

91'

High cross from the left.

Headed away.

91'

Cross swept in from the left.

Partially cleared.

There's a mad scramble.

Appeals for a handball!

Appeals for a foul!

Treffens stabs a shot at goal.

Blocked by Fierce!

The rebound falls to Diego...

Saved!

Elmham tipped it over the bar.

92'

Corner kick to Leeds United. They have sent Zézé up.

Max Best runs to the halfway line and waves. There's no-one close to him!

Zézé runs back to his own half.

The corner comes in.

It's a wicked inswinger and there's chaos in the six-yard box.

But Elmham plucks the ball from the sky.

He'll eat up a few seconds...

No! He rolls it to the right. Alloula passes to Roberts.

Roberts slips. Four Leeds players rush towards the ball!

Roberts hooks it to Best.

Best falls into a sprint.

The home fans rise as one!

***

Matt: Here goes Best! That slip from Roberts drew every Leeds player in the area to him and now Best has only Treffens and the goalie ahead of him! He's at top speed. He goes straight past Treffens, who tries to foul but Best recovers his balance. It's Best against Zézé! What now? Best pushes the ball around the keeper and collects it on the other side. Best to score! Best to wrap it up! Best to win the game! Argh, what's he doing? He has stopped the ball on the goal line. He's got his back to the Chester fans in the McNally terrace. Is he going to backheel the ball into the net? Diego is sprinting at him. Best lifts his foot... Diego slides in - this could be nasty...

Ally: Haha!

[Ear-melting roar.]

Matt: Goal for Chester! A crazy goal to settle a crazy game! Best kicked the ball against Diego's foot and it rebounded into the net! Diego, the man who injured Gabriel and turned this game on its head, has scored an own goal! And now there's more pushing and shoving.

Ally: Ooh.

Matt: A punch! A punch was thrown!

Ally: Ten quid says that was Diego. I wonder what Best said to him.

***

I probably shouldn't have done it, but it all felt very poetic at the time. Making Diego score the goal that settled the game was delicious, and best of all, it didn't count towards my quota for the season.

He was trying to land one on me, of course, because he was in trouble from this match anyway. What did he care if he got a 6-match ban or 7? I kicked the ball at him, and hopped out of his way.

When the ball crossed the line I laughed in his face and said, "Why did you do that?"

He lost his temper, something no-one should ever do on a football pitch.

He swung at me, there was some silliness, and the ref finally sent him off. "Mate," I said, to Diego. "What's wrong with you? It's only a game."

"Cut it out, Best!" cried the ref, who was worried about me starting a riot or whatever.

"Chill, dude. I got this covered."

I waved at the police and they came onto the pitch, surrounded Diego, and escorted him off the pitch.

For his safety.

"Bye-bye!"

***

96'

We were down to ten men, but so were Leeds. I instructed my team to play short passes, strictly no dribbling, but when I got the ball, that's all I did. I had crazy energy left and pushed Leeds back twenty yards at a time. Lippincott was normally second on the scene, trying to regain possession, working hard even though his team were two goals down and time was almost up.

I used his Work Rate against him, bringing him to the right of the pitch, into Alvarez's zone, before passing to Cheb, who clipped the ball to the other side of the pitch. Lippincott gamely made his way to that side but I was one step ahead of him.

97'

The team had played great. I reflected on my own performance. Had I made my changes too early? Vini and Youngster had been doing well. Cole defended slightly better than Lewis, all things considered. And there had been long stretches in the match where we hadn't been able to lay a glove on Leeds.

The ball deflected into my path and I booted it away like I was in Sunday League.

"Have it," I yelled, and the cheer from the home fans was ear-splitting.

98'

There would be hell to pay for some of the stunts I'd pulled. Showing controversial incidents on the stadium's screens was a big no-no. Mocking the Premier League was probably frowned upon. The Cheshire Constabulary were not a toy.

I didn't give a fucking shit.

Zach won a header and the ball went bouncing to my right. I sprinted - so did Lippincott - and made as if to hoik the ball all the way to Wrexham. Lippincott threw his body in front of the ball to stop me from hacking it away, and there was another huge cheer when I didn't actually kick it. I drifted left, rolling the ball disdainfully under my feet. Lippincott came at me for the millionth time, so I rolled the ball through his legs. Another epic cheer.

I nudged the ball to Pascal, expecting Lippincott to clatter into me, but he was already sprinting for the ball.

***

99'

The ref blew for full-time - the party started before he had even finished. A few fans ran onto the pitch and shook their arms over their heads. Stewards and security ran to encourage the exuberant chaps to get off the fucking grass before they got a lengthy ban from attending matches here.

I turned to check what was happening in the away end, and I was amazed to see Owen Elmham run forward and do a cartwheel.

Huh.

I didn't know goalies could run.

***

Matt: Chester have done it! Chester are into the FA Cup Quarter Final for the first time in their history! A gruelling, draining, topsy-turvy encounter was settled by two goals from William Roberts, one from Pascal Bochum, and an own-goal from Diego, who might find himself unavailable to play for a very long time. The same cannot be said, happily, for the player he attacked, Gabriel. We're hearing that his injuries are not as bad as was initially feared. Thanks to everyone at home for watching. Over to the studio, and I'm going to have a cup of tea and a long lie down. I need it!

***

Norfolk, the next morning.

Owen Elmham is in his kitchen, drinking from a big mug that looks small in his hands. A few minutes ago, Sophie from Seal Studios asked him to start recording, saying she was about to send him some content and she wanted to capture his reaction.

There's a knock on glass. Owen turns and sees Youngster grinning at him, goofily, from the other side of the patio doors. Much of Chester's first-team squad are behind him.

"What's this?" says Owen, picking up his little tripod. He goes to the door and opens it. "Um... I didn't order a garden full of weirdos."

Youngster cackles. "Max says that we did not win the second half so as a punishment we have to come and help you."

Owen frowns. "We did win the second half. It was 2-1 in both halves!"

Peter Bauer steps forward. "Max's math skills are unreliable. We brought you something." The players part to reveal there are several wheelbarrows filled with saplings.

Wibbers says, "Plant what you want. The rest will go back to the shop. No problem."

Owen points. "Why is Gabby here? He should be in a hospital."

Gabby tries to stand tall. "To make rainforest in England," he winces at some inner pain, "you need Brazilian."

"Bloody hell," says Owen. "And people say I'm mad." He steps forward and picks up the first sapling. "Elm. Yeah, he'll do. Where does this one go?"

The players look at each other, then at Owen. Youngster says, "We do not have a lot of experience of planting forests."

Dan Badford says, "It's your garden, Owen. Put them wherever you want."

"Wherever I want?" Owen seems amazed. He walks around and places the elm at a certain spot. "Here!" He beams. He's beyond delighted.

"Yeah, no," says Dan. "This is a fast grower so you should put it by that fence or it'll stop the rest from growing."

"You should plant according to the shade of green," says Peter. "Light to dark so you get a gradient effect."

Wibbers says, "Max left instructions that you should plant in a 4-4-2 formation."

Owen's smile fades, but comes back twice as bright. "Mad! You're all mad. I love it. I absolutely love it."