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Glory Of The Football Manager System-Chapter 370: The Phone Call II
"Who do you have in mind?"
I had already done the research. I had spent the previous evening on my laptop, scrolling through scouting reports, watching footage, and looking at contract situations. Three names kept coming back to me, and I laid them out for Freedman one by one.
"Grimaldo first," I said. "Álex Grimaldo at Benfica. Twenty-one years old, technically unbelievable, probably the best young left back in Europe right now. He’s got a release clause and he’s available. On pure ability, he might be the best option on the list."
Freedman nodded slowly. "He’s exceptional," he said.
"No question. But he’s twenty-one. And we already have a twenty-year-old in that position who is one of the best in the league. You bring in another young, ambitious player to compete with Chilwell, and you create a problem. Two players at the same stage of their careers, both wanting to start, both too good to sit on the bench. One of them ends up unhappy. One of them ends up leaving. It’s a headache we don’t need."
"That’s what I thought," I said. "But I didn’t want to rule him out without saying it out loud."
"He’s an option," Freedman said. "But not the first one. Who else?"
"Kolarov," I said. "Aleksandar Kolarov at Manchester City."
I was quiet for a moment, letting the name settle. It made perfect sense. Kolarov was thirty-one years old, a proven winner at Manchester City, a player with a wand of a left foot and a wealth of experience at the highest level. He was also likely to be available. Guardiola was in the middle of a full-scale defensive rebuild at City, and Kolarov was one of the players who was expected to make way.
"The Navas effect," I said, quietly.
Freedman nodded.
"Exactly. When we signed Jesus Navas on a free deal, everyone said we were mad. A thirty-one-year-old winger on big wages. But look what he’s done for Wan-Bissaka. The kid watches him in training every single day. He sees the standard. He sees the professionalism. He sees what it takes to be a top player for a decade. That’s worth more than any coaching session I can give him. Kolarov could do the same for Chilwell. He could be the best signing we make all summer."
I took out my phone. "I’m calling City," I said.
The conversation with their director of football was exactly what I expected it to be. Brief, polite, and entirely non-committal. They were aware of our interest. They would keep us informed. Guardiola had not yet made his final decisions on the squad for the coming season. Call back in a week.
I hung up and relayed the conversation to Freedman. He shrugged. "Standard," he said. "They’re waiting to see who else comes in for him. We’re not the only club who will have had this idea."
"So we wait?" I asked.
"We wait on Kolarov," he said. "But we don’t wait to have a backup plan. What about Baines?"
Leighton Baines. Another name that made perfect sense. Thirty-two years old, an Everton legend, one of the most consistent and reliable left-backs in the league for a decade.
A different player to Kolarov less of an attacking force, more of a pure defender, but technically immaculate and a huge presence in the dressing room. He would not be a consolation prize. He would be a genuine, top-class alternative.
"I like it," I said. "So we have three genuine options. Grimaldo young, brilliant, but potentially disruptive to Chilwell’s development. Kolarov experienced and proven, the mentor profile we actually need. And Baines technically immaculate, a dressing room leader, a different kind of experience but no less valuable. In that order."
"In that order," Freedman agreed. "Kolarov is the first call. If that door closes, we go to Everton. And if Baines isn’t available or isn’t interested, then we revisit Grimaldo with fresh eyes. One target at a time. It’s the only way to do business."
We were both quiet for a moment, watching the session. Then Freedman spoke again, his voice carrying the careful, measured tone he used when he was raising something he had already been thinking about for a while. "There’s something else," he said. "The left wing."
I nodded. I had been thinking the same thing. On the right, we had Navas and Townsend two experienced, reliable options who could cover each other and push each other. On the left, we had Zaha. Just Zaha.
He was extraordinary, arguably the best player in the squad, but he was one man. One suspension, one injury, one bad run of form, and the entire left side of our attack would disappear.
We had no natural cover, no like-for-like replacement, no one who could step in and perform that role at the level the system demanded.
Eze and Bojan could drift left, but they were central players by nature. Asking them to play wide on the left for a sustained period would be taking them out of their best positions to patch a hole that should not exist in a properly constructed squad.
"We can’t build a season around one player," I said. "Not even Zaha."
"Exactly," Freedman said. "We need depth on that side. Someone who can cover him, push him, give us a genuine option when we need it."
"I’ll start looking," I said. "But one thing at a time. Kolarov first. Then the left wing."
Freedman nodded. "Agreed. But don’t leave it too long. The window doesn’t stay open forever."
We stood in silence for a moment, watching the session wind down. Chilwell was doing some extra one-on-one defensive work with Sarah, his face a mask of concentration as he tried to stop Zaha from getting past him. He had no idea that two men at the edge of the pitch had just spent the last hour trying to find him a mentor, a rival, and a partner.
I felt the familiar weight of responsibility settle on my shoulders. Every decision, every phone call, every conversation had a consequence. Every signing changed the dynamic of the squad. Every player brought in meant someone else’s place was under threat. It was a constant, delicate balancing act, and it was my job to get it right.
The System pinged quietly in my head, a notification appearing in the corner of my vision.
> System Notification: [Transfer Activity]
> First Target Identified: Aleksandar Kolarov (Manchester City)
> Status: Initial Contact Made
> Recommendation: Monitor. Follow up in 7 days.
I watched Chilwell finally win the ball off Zaha, a perfectly timed sliding tackle that took the ball cleanly and left Zaha on the floor, laughing. Chilwell got up, helped him to his feet, and they walked off the pitch together, arms around each other’s shoulders.
I was not going to leave this squad exposed. Not if I could help it. The phone call had been made. The process had begun. Now, all we could do was wait.
***
Thank you to Sir nameyelus for the support.







