“I looked it up, and you were right. If nothing else a defender has the basic job of defending. Thus, should have Heading, Tackling, and Strength as their main attributes. Positioning does not appear on this list but many say it’s a must have.” Riley said. I had sent her on a mission to check how far my theories were off from the rules of this world.

“So that means I was almost correct. Still, a decent number in Decision making wouldn’t hurt for your last line of defense...” I spoke more to myself than to Riley.

In the real, I played the attacking kind of football. The kind where you make the play. Were you often have the most possession and chase the opponent down the moment you lose the ball. But that required top quality players. In whatever variant you played it. The essence was and will always be the utmost discipline and teamwork. Every single player needed to take part in all three aspects of the game. Defense, Built up and Attacking. And they needed to be good at it.

This was the definition of a pipe dream at the moment. I couldn’t even find a single player that wasn’t far below average in discipline and teamwork. The thought to play attacking and dominant football with this pile of crap made me laugh out loud.

Riley looked at me funny but said nothing. I caught her glance and asked, “What do you think?” Curious towards her opinion. A blank sheet often came with remarkable insights. Giving opinions someone in the business for years dismissed before ever uttering them.

She thought for a moment, a small pout to the side as she scratched her cheek, eyes squeezed into slits. Not as bad as a Trump impersonation but it definitely looked funny. She sighed and said “To be honest I have no clue. I would try to put as many defenders in front of the goal so we don’t get too many goals against. Like, seven? Is that a thing?”

I smiled at that and replied “That can be a thing, but not as a starting organization. But your idea is good, I agree. Not conceding anything should be our first goal. It’s also the easiest component of the game to train. So, I’m thinking five-man defense. Two central defenders. One person behind to give cover, coach and if we are lucky, they have a reasonable Long pass. Then we have two people for on the sides, the backs. I’m not sure how to play them yet. Depends on what we find in this pile of poo.” I looked at her, and she looked back, doubtful. “What? You don’t agree?” I asked, dubious, not used to having my opinions questioned when it came to my lifelong obsession.

“What about off side? Isn’t that a thing? If you put someone behind those two in the middle won’t they always cancel it out?” She asked.

I stared at her with a blank expression. Not because she made a valid point. No, she had never seen a game in her life. She had done research for me, but I was sure she only vaguely understood its meaning. But putting an abstract rule into your considerations for an organization style? This required at least some insights into how it all worked. This girl could go places.

Then I laughed out loud again. It was like a rumble that came from the deepest parts of my body. Unable to stop. Cynical minds would say It seemed like I was laughing at her. I was. My belly hurt, my cheeks hurt, tears were streaming past my cheeks and for the life of me, I couldn’t stop. Even when I saw Riley turning a tinge red. Small thunderclouds spreading over her face. If anything it made it even worse.

After a few minutes, I controlled myself. Embarrassed by my sudden outburst and mumbled “Sorry.” While touching my nose and looking away from the angry teen. Little bouts of laughter coming as aftershocks through my body.

I sighed through the last laugh and apologized again, “Sorry for laughing at you like that. It’s a great consideration. But let’s walk first before we try running. It would surprise me if these people even knew what a proper offside trap look liked. Let alone perform one in their lives.”

“I was just trying to understand, no need to be an asshole… geez.” She mumbled, but the thunderclouds seemed to clear.

“So.” Trying to get back on the topic. “We need five defenders and three stand-ins. For now, I want to look for three of the central meat shields. We could use Little human, or how the fuck you called yours again, but I prefer to do this the manual way. Let’s go through the pile and find all the players who have at least a seven in Heading, Marking, and Strength. Oh, and ignore what the sheet says about their position. I do not care about what they think their position is. I will be the decider of that. Ready?”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“What? We will race for it?” She said, her face scrunched up in confusion.

“What? Of course not, you imbecile. Be precise.” I said, confused about what the fuck she was referring to.

“This guy… Fucking… or I… goddamn wheelchair…” I heard her whisper. But she was now going through the players at the top so I didn’t feel like interrupting. Instead of starting my search at the bottom.

After twenty minutes we had gone through the lot and gathered twelve sheets of paper. We placed them on the bench against the wall. Riley looked at me and said with no small part of irritation “So what now, oh great leader.”

I laughed in silence as I didn’t dare to laugh at her again. Fearing she would get truly angry.

Then realization hit me like a truck. Who was I becoming? I had fired dozens of assistants, most of them over much less than this piece of walking disrespect said on a regular basis. Those didn’t live in the room next to me though… Or had the vengeful minds of a teenage girl… But it was time I gave her some food for thought. I turned to her as my face grew cold and strict.

“Now I want to tell you that, for now, I’m fine with you treating me like one of your friends. I know you have shit to go through. I know you are a teenager and thus hard wired to be disrespectful. But if you talk like this in front of the group of players...” I paused here for dramatic effect. Then continued, “I will kick you out of this place faster than you can ask for forgiveness and will not let you back in. Understood?” I stated to her, no room for discussion in my words. Fun and joking grandpa gone. The person I had been for many decades stood in his place. Harsh, unapologetic and unrelenting in his passion.

The girl stared back, a little fear in her eyes. She only nodded, but that was enough for me. As long as she understood. So I said, my tone softer this time, “If I lose my credibility in front of these guys, everything we did will turn to shit. We can start over. I enjoy our way of uncomplicated communication. But when in front of the group, we show each other mutual respect. As we will ask this from them in return. Now let see if we can find three central defenders.”

As I finished, I reached out towards the first one and looked at the person on the paper. When going through the pile of papers on the ground I only checked the three required stats. The rest was still unclear.

I looked him over and read out loud, “Bernard Cresswell. Age, seventeen. Length, one ninety. Weight, ninety-five. Description, Bernard has had the absolute will to win since young. He was always the biggest guy in his teams and has yet to learn that there are people out there stronger than him. Hard to gain his respect, but harder to lose it. Is not the brightest light in the skies but knows when he’s made fun off. Many people are aware of this. After a punch in the crotch…” I paused here as I looked through his Attributes, not wanting to list them all like a grocery drone.

Marking was the minimum of a seven, heading a nine and Strength got an outstanding sixteen. But even with work rate, teamwork and determination all being an eight, this guy still averaged a two point eight. So except for stopping someone in his tracks, he could do nothing else. Perfect.

“This goes on the Yes pile,” I announced without sharing his attributes, giving the paper to Riley.

She looked at it and then her nose wrinkled like she smelled something stinking, “Why? Except for being large enough to stop an elephant, he is utter trash.” she asked.

“They are all utter trash,” I replied, my face blank.

“There must be something better here…” She muttered.

I smiled and said “Ah the naivety of the young. Let us try to find them then shall we? You read, my eyes are getting tired.” I sat down and placed my hands behind my head, looking her way.

“You… some kind of… I will see… bastard.” She whispered underneath her breath. It didn’t bother me. She didn’t need to like me. Being friends with a thirteen-year-old girl was weird. It’s better if you can boss them around.