The Greatest Manager of All time

James Cook ran all the way home.

James Cook, who had always given people the impression of being gentle and modest, shocked his parents the moment he opened the front door.

The James Cook standing before them looked like someone they had never seen before.

There was a wild, furious glare in his eyes, and he was breathing hard, clearly burning with anger.

"Where's Lance?"

James Cook dropped his backpack and asked his parents in a low voice.

His mother, who had never had much of a mind of her own, pointed upstairs. His father stood up and asked with concern, "James, what happened?"

At that moment, Lance Cook, having just changed his clothes, came downstairs.

When he saw James Cook, he had not even opened his mouth before James rushed in front of him in one stride and demanded angrily, "Did you go to the club today and ask Boss to give me a pay rise?"

The moment his parents heard the words "pay rise," a flash of joy crossed their faces. But after thinking about it, they realized something was not quite right.

Lance Cook frowned slightly and said, "Yes, I went. What's wrong? What happened? Did Lynn lecture you? Why are you acting like this?"

Lance Cook had never seen James Cook this furious before either.

The only possibility he could think of was that Lynn had threatened or warned James Cook, but the truth was the exact opposite.

Lance Cook's words only made James Cook even angrier.

"Who told you to go? Did you ask for my opinion? You're my real brother, but that doesn't mean you can completely represent me! Do you know how ashamed you made me feel today? Why? Why? Why?"

For the first time, James Cook roared at his brother. Those three consecutive "whys" forced Lance Cook back a step, and he nearly struck his foot against the stair and fell.

After steadying himself, Lance Cook's gaze became exceptionally sharp.

With an imposing air, he said to James Cook in a low voice, "James, I don't understand what you're talking about! Why? You should be earning more! Do you even need to ask why? You're a footballer. You're not a philanthropist. You're not an unpaid worker. You're not a volunteer!

When your income doesn't match your contribution, you should ask for more. That's how the world works. If you don't speak up, don't fight, don't take what you deserve, no one will generously hand it to you!"

Compared with James Cook, Lance Cook clearly understood the cruel realities of society far better, and every word he spoke landed with force.

But James Cook shook his head.

"No! I think what I've received is already enough. At least right now, I don't want to ask for more! Because I have to be able to face my own conscience! You only know that I'm a footballer, but you don't know how I spend every single day!

Who is inspiring me to move forward? Who is spending so much effort developing me? Who is guiding me into becoming the kind of man I admired but never dared to take a step toward becoming? It's Boss! He has given me so much! So much! More than money could ever measure!"

At this moment, James Cook's face was filled with struggle.

To be precise, Swansea's coaching staff made the young players feel warmth.

This was a team rebuilt from the very bottom, and whether it was Lynn or the other coaches, all of them were carefully protecting this group of young swans as they grew, tolerating and caring for them as much as possible.

And Lynn was the most special one of all.

He encouraged James Cook to dress more stylishly. He gave him a luxury watch so he could present himself better. Occasionally, he would talk to him about the adult world.

Whether those ideas were right or wrong, James Cook listened seriously.

Because no one had ever told him those things before. No one had ever made him think about them.

Before he turned eighteen, he had almost been nothing more than an obedient listener.

Whatever his parents and brother told him to do, he did, and he worked hard to do it well.

Before now, that had been enough. But he was already eighteen. He had his own personality, his own consciousness.

He was James Cook, not his parents' puppet on strings, nor Lance Cook's shadow.

He wanted to be himself.

He wanted to break out of the small world that had trapped him and become a real James Cook, one with his own colors.

At that moment, Lynn had appeared in his world.

Quietly, little by little, without even Lynn himself realizing it, everything Lynn had given with a clear conscience was influencing James Cook.

And that influence was becoming heavier and heavier.

When Lance Cook heard James Cook's words, his own anger flared as well.

He shouted at James Cook, "Don't forget, you're a member of the Cook family! You're not Lynn's younger brother! Why do you keep speaking for him again and again? Is it because you play for Swansea? Do you even know that you can play for many clubs now? You don't have to depend on him! You don't have to listen to Lynn in everything!"

"We are your family. We are your own people. Lynn isn't! He's just your Boss at work! When he no longer needs you, when he can sell you for a suitable price, he'll abandon you! But no matter what happens, your family will never abandon you! We are the ones who are truly thinking about you! James, wake up!"

Just as their parents were about to step forward and persuade each son separately, James Cook kicked over the chair beside him.

His heart was broken.

Not because of anything else.

Only because his own brother did not understand him.

That was all.

Suddenly, he felt that the Lance Cook standing in front of him was a stranger.

A man without a trace of warmth.

What had turned the older brother who used to take him outdoors to play, who used to let him rest on his back when he was tired, into this cold, ruthless, calculating person?

Perhaps it was the poor family environment they had grown up in. Their father's helplessness, their mother's weakness and snobbishness.

Lance Cook had been forced to become cold, tough, and skilled at seizing every opportunity to climb upward, grabbing more money and benefits to improve the family's life and give his loved ones a better future.

But James Cook could not think of that right now.

He only felt that his brother was too cold, too heartless, even more hateful than his mother, who looked down on poverty and admired wealth.

Tears slid from the corners of James Cook's eyes.

He shook his head at Lance Cook and said, "Why can't we think about what Boss has given me besides money? Do you remember? Just over half a year ago, on the day Boss personally came to our home with a contract, I had already been persuaded by you. I chose to listen to you, go to Swansea University, and give up football."

"But Boss appeared. He brought me back to football, the thing I love most, my only real interest. Yes, I actually hate studying. But to avoid disappointing you, Mum, and Dad, I worked hard at it. I worked hard to learn all that boring knowledge that felt like being locked in a prison and tortured. Maybe one day I would have become a lawyer like you. Maybe I would have become some dull, lifeless scientist."

"But now, I, James Cook, am a footballer. I have football. I have teammates. I have Boss. We can run with everything we have. After training, we can squeeze a puddle of sweat from our clothes, but we're laughing, laughing happily. We go to matches. We communicate on the pitch in our own language, like solving a puzzle, like completing a piece of work together.

We fall down. We comfort and encourage each other through the pain. And when we win, we laugh as much as we want. We raise glasses in celebration. We walk down the street together and everyone looks at us. This is what I love most. This is what I want most!"

"And what you did today made me feel so guilty I wanted to die!"

"What will I become in Boss's eyes? A greedy little villain! An ungrateful bastard!"

"Maybe you're right. Maybe one day Boss will abandon me. But at least right now, I'm lucky."

"Lance, stop bothering Boss. This is my life, not yours!"

After saying all of that, James Cook picked up his backpack from the floor, tears still on his face, and walked past Lance Cook straight upstairs.

No matter how his mother and father called after him from behind, he did not stop.

Lance Cook turned with a heavy gaze and watched his younger brother's back as he went upstairs.

After James Cook disappeared around the corner of the staircase, Lance Cook closed his eyes.

James Cook returned to his room and threw all the textbooks and reference books he was currently studying from his shelves into the rubbish bin.

Then he shut the door and refused to come out. No matter how his parents knocked, he gave no response.

An hour later, Lance Cook had collected his emotions and also came to knock on the door.

Standing outside, he said to James Cook, "James, have you calmed down a little? There's been a misunderstanding between us. Come out and let's talk."

"Don't speak to me in that tone! I'm James Cook. You're Lance Cook. I don't need you to command me! Let me be alone!"

James Cook's reaction was still intense.

Right now, he was extremely resistant to Lance Cook's commanding tone.

Outside the door, Lance Cook sighed softly and decided to let his younger brother stay quiet for the night first.

However, James Cook had trained hard all day today.

He was hungry.

So hungry he could not sleep at all.

So he took out his phone and sent Cromwell a text message.

Half an hour later, the sound of a motorcycle engine cutting off came from outside his window.

James Cook opened the window and looked down. Cromwell, dressed in a leather jacket and looking slightly roguish, was sitting on his motorcycle, just taking off his helmet.

Without saying a word, Cook tossed his backpack out the window, then climbed out after it. Conveniently, beneath his window was the roof of the family's storage room.

After landing there, he jumped down from the not-too-high roof to the ground.

Seeing this, Cromwell teased, "Your room is perfect for sneaking out on late-night dates. If Juliet's balcony had been this low, with a roof underneath it, Romeo would've been thrilled."

James Cook picked up his backpack and walked silently over to Cromwell.

Cromwell could tell from James Cook's expression that he was in a bad mood.

Once James climbed onto the back seat, Cromwell handed him a helmet and asked, "Where do you want to go? Want to ride around? It's not too cold today. But you're dressed a bit thinly, so maybe forget it. Don't want you catching a cold."

"Let's eat first."

After James Cook said that, he put on the helmet. Cromwell started the motorcycle and left the Cook family home.

...

The next day, Lynn arrived at the club's training base as usual and oversaw training.

Throughout the entire morning session, he paid special attention to James Cook.

The lad was working very hard.

Even harder than usual.

But judging from his expression, he was clearly unhappy.

When morning training was almost over, Lynn called Cromwell over and asked with a frown, "Oliver, do you know what's wrong with James? He seems to be in a terrible mood."

Cromwell took the water bottle Hughes handed him, opened it, drank a big mouthful, and wiped the water from the corner of his mouth.

He shrugged and said, "He's just upset. He fell out with his brother at home yesterday. James has finally entered his rebellious phase."

Lynn smacked Cromwell lightly on the head and scolded him with a laugh, "You're even younger than him. He's your good friend too. Don't you feel a little guilty saying that?"

Cromwell shook his head. "No. I'm happy for him. The little study boy has finally stopped studying."

"Hm? What do you mean?"

"After falling out with his brother, he threw all his books into the rubbish bin. He told me last night he's never going to school again, because he's always hated studying."

Lynn's smile disappeared, and his expression became somewhat worried.

He told Cromwell to go back to training. Then, after training ended and he announced the players were dismissed, he called James Cook back.

"James, I'll treat you to lunch. What do you want to eat?"

James Cook was surprised.

Lynn often treated everyone to meals together. It was not extravagant, but whenever Swansea had a fairly good restaurant, Lynn would book the place in advance and take everyone to try it.

After all, there were many foreign players in the squad. Unlike the local players, they probably found those experiences more novel.

But Lynn had never treated a single player to a meal alone.

Flattered, James Cook said, "Boss, you can decide. I'm not as picky about food as Tobias."

Although Tobias Rau's build was still on the lean side, he actually often ate and drank a lot. He had no resistance to good food.

Annoyingly, some people gained weight just by drinking water, while Tobias Rau could eat whatever he wanted and never get fat.

Lynn said nothing more. He took James Cook into his car, then drove to a Western restaurant in the center of St David's Square and treated him to steak.

The meal itself was not the point.

Lynn simply wanted to talk to James Cook alone.

After they ordered, Lynn looked at James Cook, who sat opposite him, with concern.

"James, you're in a bad mood today. Everyone can see it. Can you talk to me about it?"

In front of Lynn, James Cook did not close himself off. Just as he had told Cromwell everything, he also poured out his troubles to Lynn.

After listening, Lynn said, "James, you're wrong."

James Cook looked completely puzzled.

He asked back, "Am I supposed to be a greedy little villain, then?"

Lynn shook his head and said solemnly, "You should understand the care behind what your brother Lance does. Everything he does is for you, not for himself. Just like I told you before, football is a high-risk profession. If luck turns against you, you could be training today and unemployed tomorrow because of an injury."

"When that happens, what will you rely on to support yourself? Savings that aren't generous will be used up very quickly. Without any skills, how will you stand in society?"

"You haven't thought of these things, but Lance has thought of them for you."

"He is a strict older brother, but he is also a brother who is wholeheartedly thinking about you. You should be proud to have a brother like that."

"And your current behavior is very immature. You're like a child sulking out of anger. But this kind of sulking doesn't just hurt your family. It will hurt you too."

"I believe there is at least one standard for whether a man is mature: whether he knows how to consider others, and whether he can put himself in someone else's position."

"If you were Lance, what would you do?"

"Once you think these things through, I believe you'll understand. After all, you're a very smart person."

Hearing this, James Cook fell into thought.

After lunch, James Cook picked up his backpack and said solemnly to Lynn, "Boss, can you give me a lift?"

Lynn asked curiously, "You're not going back to the club?"

"I'm going to see Lance."

"All right. I'll take you."

When Lynn drove the Bentley to the law firm where Lance Cook worked, Lance Cook, who had received James Cook's call five minutes earlier, was already waiting downstairs.

As James Cook got out of the car and walked toward Lance Cook, Lance Cook calmly looked at Lynn in the car.

The two men silently nodded to each other in greeting.

Then Lynn drove away.

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