Chapter 67: Possibility of transfer
Ole Gunnar Solskjær sat at his desk, his eyes glued to the laptop screen. He had called Woodward again, asking for the latest player files. "Where is it? We’re running out of time here," he had pressed earlier. But Woodward, as usual, had given him the same excuse.
"Hold up, Ole. With the pandemic, I’ve been busy. I’ll get the files over to you soon," Woodward had said, his tone brisk.
Ole’s sigh of frustration lingered in the air as he shut his laptop for a moment, staring out of the window. Manchester United’s season had been a rollercoaster, but the truth was, they needed fresh blood. And he had already started thinking about a player that caught his attention—the kid who had taken the FA Cup by storm.
David Jones.
Since the match, Ole had become obsessed with watching every clip, every goal, every assist. His pace was electrifying, his dribbling had an elegance to it, and his maturity in front of goal was something Ole hadn’t seen from a player so young in years. His eyes gleamed with a mixture of excitement and hunger. He could already see the impact this player would have at United.
His hand hovered over the keyboard, ready to shoot off another email to Woodward, but before he could, the sound of the front door creaked open. It was his wife.
"Ole, I told you, there’s a pandemic going on," she said, her voice slightly exasperated. "You don’t have any work right now. Why don’t you spend some time with the family?"
"I’m coming, I’m coming," Ole muttered absentmindedly, his gaze still fixed on the screen. He didn’t want to turn away from the thoughts of signing the kid. He had to get this right. The whole future of the club might depend on it.
His wife moaned in frustration. "You and your work, always glued to that thing."
She walked out, but Ole barely registered it, his mind consumed by the thought of adding David to United’s squad. As the minutes passed, his obsession with the idea deepened.