Chapter 49: Draw the Line
Date: Thursday, August 28, 2003
Behind him, the others stayed seated. Still talking. Still arguing. Still there.
Still together.
The next morning, they crowded into the media room at La Turbie. The chairs weren’t made for watching TV. Half the players sat sideways, one leg hooked over the armrest, others leaning forward like the screen would move closer if they stared hard enough. No music. Just the low hum of the air conditioning and the shuffle of plastic water bottles being opened and closed, again and again.
Michel stood near the back, arms folded. He didn’t need to explain anything. The screen already said it all.
UEFA CHAMPIONS LEAGUE GROUP STAGE DRAW – LIVE FROM MONACO
Rothen arrived late, plate of sliced melon in one hand, chewing with his mouth half-open. Giuly tossed a napkin at him without looking. Adebayor sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the screen like a kid waiting for cartoons.
"They better give us Madrid," he muttered. "I want to mark Figo."
"Mark?" Giuly said. "You’d ask for his shirt by the second minute."
"Still counts as pressure."
That got a laugh from somewhere near Zikos.