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The Big Change

Niall

Despite everything pointing to this owner transition being a good thing, I was nervous when going to meet Ms. Langston for the "first" time. We’d spoken on the phone and over emails a handful of times, but meeting her here in the stadium made it official. The team was under new management and things were going to change.

Instead of taking up one of the owner’s offices at the top of the admin side of the building, Ms. Langston had set up shop in the shared office where whoever needed a desk, had one. Most often it was used by PAs and anyone else who didn't need an every day space. Today, though, it was just the two of us.

“Thanks for coming in early, Niall. I wanted to speak with you before the rest of the team because I understand how important you are to everyone. So your insight and approval before making any big moves will be essential.”

“Approval?” I repeated, confused. Not once, in my ten plus years of playing soccer professionally, had a higher-up asked for my approval. My whole career, especially while working with Coach Boyd, was spent working with the conditions as they were. And while I’d hoped things would be different under Langston after Brooker sang her praises, I didn't believe it. And I especially didn’t expect her to ask for my advice before making any decision.

“Yes,” she said, chuckling a little as she tapped on her computer screen. After a few seconds she folded her screen over and turned it to me. “I guess I should start with an apology. After I acquired the Dastards and spoke with y’all, I had a conversation with Mr. Boyd, specifically asking if he was willing to … well, work for his position as head coach. Because after a brief discussion with some staff, Brooker in particular, it was clear he was … coasting.”

I tried to stay professional, I really did. But after years of the assistant coaches looking to me for answers, and with someone new pointing it out, I couldn’t hold it in. I laughed.

I’d done my best to make up for Coach Boyd’s … low involvement. I rearranged schedules, I instructed assistant coaches, I made all the play plans, everything. It left me exhausted but I was committed to the team and didn't want to see us fail because of one man. Besides, I had nothing else going on in my life, I could afford the extra time at work.

“I didn’t intend to let him go without speaking with everyone first, but he was insulted by the implication and chose to resign immediately.” Langston’s lips twisted, likely remembering whatever insult Boyd threw at her for calling him out.

“I’m sorry for how Coach Boyd—”

"Don’t apologize for him,” she cut me off. “I started out in the stock exchange, so you can imagine how many times I had to apologize for a higher-up's mistake. I don’t do that anymore and neither will anyone on the Dastards.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said instinctively, back straightening.

“Ooo, don’t call me ma’am.” She chuckled, face wrinkling. “I know it’s a Southern thing, but I don’t think I’m old enough for that. Call me Becca, please.”

“Okay … Becca.” It felt awkward to call a higher-up by their first name, let alone the owner, but disrespecting her wishes would be rude, so I just smiled through my buzzing nerves.

“Good.” She tapped her screen to revive it and I finally looked down to see a spreadsheet of coach profiles. “So while this wasn’t the first thing I wanted to discuss, finding a new head coach is a priority. I’ve taken a look through coaches not currently signed with a team and made a list of those that I think fit the Dastard energy. Take a look through and see if anyone catches your eye. But I do have a favorite.”

I picked up the laptop-turned-tablet and scrolled through the sheet. Becca had gathered a ton of data on coaches and assistant coaches that had potential to lead, details like team records, connections to Florida, and coaching styles. It was overwhelming to look at.

“And your favorite is …” I prompted, hoping that looking at just one name would make all this information digestible.

“Karan Sharma. He was coaching at a mid-level club in England. They did well in their league, but the team didn’t have much in terms of financial backing and I think that held them back. Sharma left the team at the end of last season due to some medical issues with his mother, who lives in Florida now.”

“That’s serendipitous.” Along with the rows of details, there were also tabs for each name. I clicked on Sharma’s tab and was presented with even more information, including a photo of the man in question. When she mentioned he worked in England, I pictured an older man, white hair, and layers of wrinkles. But Sharma was fairly young; thirty-six according to Becca’s report. His hair was dark brown, with the smallest amount of gray at his temples, and he had a thick mustache that hid his upper lip. But what really caught my attention was his build. He was fit, fit in a way that meant he trained regularly, like he understood the maintenance of being an athlete, which was something Boyd never provided guidance for, only yelling for results if we slowed in anyway.

And then I noticed the interview snippets. In one excerpt, he was asked why he'd rejected coaching offers from better funded teams and his response was, "I’ve never abandoned a project in the middle of it and I’m not about to start now." And then there were a few quotes from his players about what he’s like to work with, all praising his attention to detail and razzing him for being a bit of a hard-ass.

This man being in Florida was more than serendipitous, it was a goddamn miracle.

“Yeah,” I said quietly, stunned that Becca found a perfect fit for our team in roughly forty-two hours of being the owner. “He looks interesting.”

“Great. I’ll get in touch with him, see if we can set up an interview sooner rather than later. And while I don’t want to add to your workload, I’d appreciate if you looked through those names and let me know if anyone else catches your eye. I don’t want us going too many games without a head coach, but I don't want to just go with the first possibility either.”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll get right on it.”

The Result

Niall

A month later

As we returned to the locker room, a chorus of cannon sound effects thundered through the stadium, one for each goal we scored against the Hooligans. It was the third game we played under Sharma and the third game in a row we’ve won. The championship, which felt like a long shot after such a big transition, was now reachable.

Becca’s instincts had been spot on, Sharma was a perfect fit for the Dastards. He came into the interview with three things he’d immediately change: that he would never take play decisions from the owners, that assistant coaches would be in charge of training activity and research, and that player interviews would be rotational. All these things that had fallen on my shoulders, Sharma had a plan for. And when Becca questioned the interviews, particularly with concern about Kean, our keeper who … most of the team would call a grump, Sharma had another perfect response. "This might be everyone’s dream job, but it’s still a job. And all jobs require you to do something you don’t like."