Chapitre 62: New agent
Everyone at Ajax breathed a collective sigh of relief after securing a hard-fought victory over Feyenoord in the KNVB Cup. The match had been tense, with the fierce rivalry between the two Dutch giants on full display. Ajax's win was crucial, keeping their hopes alive in the competition.
The quarter-finals of the KNVB Cup had just concluded, delivering some surprising results alongside Ajax's victory. In a stunning upset, NAC Breda defeated PSV Eindhoven away from home, while Sparta Rotterdam narrowly edged out NEC Nijmegen in a dramatic penalty shootout. The final team to advance to the semi-finals was FC Utrecht, solidifying their place among the last four.
Despite the competition, Ajax remained the clear favorites, with their superior squad depth and rich history in the tournament giving them an undeniable edge. The club was optimistic that the team would continue to perform at this level, driven by the ambition to lift the KNVB Cup this season.
After the intense game at the Amsterdam Arena, head coach Ronald Koeman gathered his players in the dressing room for a post-match talk. He praised their determination and the quality of their performance but was quick to remind them of the challenges ahead. "Winning this cup is no easy task," Koeman emphasized during the press conference later. "It will require every single one of us to maintain this level of commitment and work together as we did tonight."
Following the game, the players returned to De Toekomst, Ajax's renowned training complex, where they enjoyed a well-deserved meal. The atmosphere was relaxed, yet the awareness of the grueling schedule ahead loomed large. The team began packing up for the night, knowing that a restorative training session awaited them the next morning. February would bring a brief respite with a two-week international break, but for the most part, Ajax was facing a relentless series of matches that would test their endurance and resolve.
As the evening wound down, Yang Yang, one of Ajax's promising young talents, was called into the office of the club's technical director, Louis van Gaal, at De Toekomst. The two spent some time discussing Yang Yang's future, particularly the renewal of his contract. When he finally emerged, most of his teammates had already left, save for three of his close friends—Zlatan Ibrahimović, Maxwell, and Thomas Vermaelen.
"What did Van Gaal want? You were in there for ages," Ibrahimović asked as they walked out together, his tone laced with the familiar disdain he held for the strict disciplinarian.
Yang Yang was well aware of Ibrahimović's rocky relationship with Van Gaal, but he chose not to dwell on it. Some things were simply beyond his control, and he saw little point in trying to change the Swedish striker's mind.
"It was nothing major," Yang Yang replied casually. "He just advised me to find an agent. The club is looking to extend my contract."
"He finally realizes he needs to move fast, huh?" Ibrahimović smirked, clearly unfazed.
Yang Yang didn't respond, but inwardly, he felt a deep sense of clarity about his future. He knew he wanted to stay at Ajax. The club had given him the platform to develop, and despite the lure of bigger leagues, he believed Ajax was the best place for his continued growth. For now, he wasn't afraid of exploring other options, but he couldn't think of a better environment to nurture his talents than the one he had at Ajax.
One of the many perks of being at Ajax is the regular opportunity to play in the UEFA Champions League, facing off against the elite of European football. The competition offers a stage where Yang Yang can measure himself against the best attacking players the world has to offer, honing his skills and gaining invaluable experience in the process.
Ajax, with its storied tradition of nurturing young talent, provides an environment where mistakes are seen as part of the learning curve, especially for attacking players. The club's patient and trusting approach, coupled with its unparalleled ability to develop players, makes Yang Yang feel perfectly at home. He knew that such a supportive environment would be hard to find elsewhere, where the expectations and pressures might not be as forgiving.
"You really should find a reliable agent so you don't have to worry about these things all the time," Maxwell advised, his tone warm but firm. The Brazilian defender had always been a steadying presence, both on and off the pitch.
Yang Yang nodded in agreement. The constant thoughts about his contract and future were beginning to distract him from what truly mattered—his performance on the field.
"If you're unsure about who to choose as your agent, I can ask my agent, Raiola, if he's interested," Ibrahimović suddenly offered, his voice carrying a hint of mischief as he glanced over at Yang Yang.
Yang Yang blinked in surprise. "Are you serious?"
Ibrahimović raised an eyebrow. "Why not? You don't think he's good enough?"
"No, it's not that," Yang Yang quickly replied, shaking his head. "I'm just worried he might not be interested in someone like me." A bitter smile tugged at his lips.
Mino Raiola was a household name in European football, representing some of the biggest stars in the game, including Pavel Nedvěd and many other luminaries. Ibrahimović's own relationship with Raiola had been tumultuous at first. When the Swedish striker had initially transferred to Raiola's management, there had been friction. Rumor had it that Raiola had once given Ibrahimović a harsh dressing-down, criticizing his arrogance in a bid to make him see his situation more clearly. Despite this rocky start, Raiola's keen eye for talent and shrewd negotiating skills had earned him widespread respect.
"Mino's a good guy," Maxwell chimed in, clearly holding the agent in high regard. "He might come across as blunt, but everything he says has a purpose. He's dedicated and responsible when it comes to his clients' interests. You can trust him."
"Professional footballers earn the majority of their money during their prime years," Ibrahimović added, his tone more serious now. "Who knows what the future holds? That's why it's crucial to have an agent who truly has your best interests at heart. Of course, agents like that tend to be the ones clubs hate the most." He chuckled, but his words resonated with Yang Yang.
Yang Yang found himself agreeing with Ibrahimović's perspective. An independent agent like Raiola, one who wouldn't hesitate to stand up to clubs, was exactly what he needed at this stage in his career. From what he had heard from Ibrahimović and Maxwell, and from his own observations during their few interactions, Raiola seemed not only competent but also genuinely committed to his clients.
"Alright," Yang Yang said, a note of resolve in his voice. "Go ahead and ask him. If he's not interested, that's fine too. I don't want to push it."
"My contract with my current agent is about to expire," Vermaelen interjected with a grin. "If things work out, I might sign with Raiola too."
Over time, Vermaelen had grown increasingly fond of Yang Yang. Sharing a room with him and playing together had forged a bond of mutual respect. Their understanding on the pitch, especially during set-pieces, was something special—almost instinctive. Vermaelen couldn't help but admire Yang Yang's talent and dedication, and the thought of deepening their friendship, both professionally and personally, was appealing.
"Alright, I'll give him a call when I get back," Ibrahimović laughed, the lightheartedness of his tone doing little to mask the sharpness of his mind.
But the Swedish striker's expression quickly shifted, taking on a more serious edge. "But listen, Yang Yang," he began, leaning in slightly, "don't go thanking Van der Vaart for that penalty tonight. He wasn't being generous; he was exhausted. His legs were like jelly, and he was afraid he'd miss, so he passed the responsibility to you."
"Really?" Maxwell asked, his curiosity piqued.
Everyone at Ajax knew that Ibrahimović harbored a few grudges. One was against Louis van Gaal, who had relentlessly pushed him to improve his defensive game, and the other was against Rafael van der Vaart, who was his chief rival for the captain's armband and a frequent competitor for the spotlight.
"It's not just talk," Ibrahimović continued, his tone matter-of-fact. "I was watching him closely. Normally, he's subbed off around the seventy-fifth minute. By the time that penalty came around, he'd already been on the pitch for over a hundred minutes. You really think he had anything left in the tank?"
He didn't wait for a response before pressing on. "Think about it—at two-one, if he scores that penalty, it's just icing on the cake. But if he misses? He's the star player who choked under pressure. Why take that risk when he can hand it off to you, let you take the shot, and look like a team player? If you score, everyone sings his praises for being so magnanimous. If you miss, well, it's no skin off his nose. Clever, right?"
There was a bitterness in Ibrahimović's voice that was hard to miss.
Yang Yang merely chuckled, not letting the Swede's words weigh on him. He knew how Ibrahimović felt about Van der Vaart, but he wasn't about to let that cloud his judgment. The dynamics within the team were complex, and not every action or decision was as straightforward as it might seem.
Maxwell and Vermaelen, on the other hand, were clearly intrigued by the gossip. They exchanged glances, their interest in the internal politics of the team evident.
After a bit more lighthearted banter, the group made their way back to the Oude Kerk, the historic heart of Amsterdam.
...
...
In the early hours of the morning, Yang Yang found himself entrenched in a grueling session within the Dream training system, facing off against a virtual representation of one of the Eredivisie's top defenders. The night training was intense, but Yang Yang was determined to push his limits. When he finally awoke, he didn't waste time and headed out for his usual morning training session in the city, a routine he had come to cherish.
On his way back, Yang Yang made a quick stop at the corner kiosk, where he picked up five breakfasts and three Dutch newspapers. The five breakfasts were meant for his usual companions—Ibrahimović, Maxwell, and Vermaelen—as well as his new agent, Mino Raiola, who had rushed to Amsterdam overnight after a call from Ibrahimović. The early morning air was crisp, and Yang Yang felt a sense of anticipation as he returned to the apartment where everyone was already waiting.
Breakfast that morning was particularly lively, a stark contrast to the usual quiet that accompanied their early meals. Ibrahimović, never one to hold back, spent a good portion of the meal grumbling about the latest article in De Telegraaf, which had praised his first goal but criticized his missed opportunity due to what they described as a poor first touch. His dissatisfaction was almost comical, and his dramatic retelling of the events had everyone at the table laughing heartily.
After breakfast, Vermaelen and Maxwell began packing up, preparing for their day ahead. Ibrahimović, still muttering about the newspaper's critique, grabbed his own copy and left, leaving Yang Yang alone with Raiola in the living room. The atmosphere shifted from light-hearted banter to serious discussion as they delved into the matter of Yang Yang's future.
Before Yang Yang had even returned from his outdoor training, Vermaelen had already wrapped up contract negotiations with Raiola. The agent wasted no time getting straight to the point.
"In your current situation, my suggestion is that you stay at Ajax," Raiola said, his tone firm but not unkind.
Yang Yang had been told by others, especially Ibrahimović, that Raiola was aggressive, but the man sitting before him now seemed more straightforward than confrontational. Perhaps the stories of his "mean character" were exaggerated, or maybe Raiola simply adjusted his demeanor based on the person he was dealing with.
"I think so too," Yang Yang responded. "I know it's too early to consider leaving. I still have a lot to learn and improve upon."
Raiola nodded in agreement. "Ajax is an excellent platform for growth. If you can't establish yourself here, then moving to one of the big four leagues would be premature and possibly detrimental."
Yang Yang appreciated Raiola's bluntness. The truth was, he wasn't ready to leave Ajax. He had only just begun to tap into his potential, and he knew that Ajax was the best place to continue that development.
"But even though you've decided to stay, I want you to understand something," Raiola continued. "There are no emotions at the negotiating table. Whether it's you or Ajax, both sides are looking out for their own interests. Negotiating your salary isn't just about money—it's about respect and recognition. Your salary is a reflection of how much the club values you. Think about it: Do you think Ajax would pay Van der Vaart less than Ibrahimović?"
As Raiola finished speaking, Ibrahimović, who had been quietly reading the newspaper at a nearby table, couldn't help but interject. "Hey, hey, Mino, leave me and Van der Vaart out of this, alright? Show some respect!"
Raiola merely shrugged, offering a half-hearted apology. "Sorry, don't mind what we're saying."
The room erupted in laughter, with Yang Yang and Vermaelen chuckling at the exchange.
But as the laughter died down, Yang Yang's thoughts turned serious. Raiola's words had struck a chord. He realized that his salary negotiations were about more than just money—they were about asserting his place within the team and ensuring that the club recognized his value. The idea that his salary could be a measure of his importance to Ajax lingered in his mind. It was a reminder that, in professional football, the numbers on a contract could say as much about a player's worth as their performance on the pitch.
Raiola leaned back in his chair, a confident smile playing on his lips as he laid out his approach. "The way I do things is very simple. I put the interests of my client first. Since you've decided to stay with Ajax, that's our starting point. But when it comes to your personal treatment and salary, I'll fight tooth and nail to get you the best deal possible. It's not just your interest on the line—it's mine too."
Yang Yang pondered this for a moment, weighing Raiola's words. The agent's confidence was infectious, and though Yang Yang had heard stories about Raiola's aggressive negotiation tactics, seeing it firsthand was different. There was a certain appeal in knowing that someone so determined had his back.
"Okay," Yang Yang finally said, nodding. "I believe you. So, what should I do now?"
Raiola's smile widened. "It's simple—you don't need to do anything."
"Nothing?" Yang Yang echoed, a bit surprised.
"Yes, exactly. From today on, your only job is to focus on playing well on the pitch. Forget about everything else. Help Ajax win the Champions League, and I promise you'll get a contract that you couldn't even dream of. I'll make sure you become the star player that Ajax is known for cultivating."
Yang Yang couldn't help but laugh at the boldness of Raiola's promise. Winning the Champions League seemed like a far-fetched dream, especially given Ajax's competition. But the agent's unwavering confidence had an intriguing effect on him. It wasn't just the promise of a lucrative contract that appealed to Yang Yang; it was the idea of becoming a central figure at Ajax, the club that had become his home.
"Winning the Champions League, huh?" Yang Yang said with a grin. "That's a tall order."
Raiola shrugged, his expression serious but not without a hint of mischief. "You'd be surprised at what's possible when you focus all your energy on the pitch. Leave the negotiations to me. Just make sure you deliver when it counts."
For the first time in a long while, Yang Yang felt a sense of clarity. He knew what he had to do—focus on his game, keep improving, and let Raiola handle the rest. It was a simple plan, but one that felt right. Raiola's style, though unconventional, was beginning to grow on him.
...
...
"Hello, sir, who are you looking for?"
As the first team resumed training the day after the match against De Toekomst, a stocky man with a broad grin and a confident stride entered the administration office at the Amsterdam Arena. The receptionist, a young woman with neatly tied hair, glanced up from her desk.
"I'm looking for your technical director, Louis Van Gaal," the man said, placing both hands firmly on the counter as his smile widened.
"Do you have an appointment?" she asked, her tone polite yet cautious.
The man chuckled, shaking his head slightly as if amused by the question. "Are you new here? Just tell him that Raiola is here to see him. No appointment needed."
The receptionist hesitated for a moment, taken aback by his assured demeanor. She quickly picked up the phone, dialing Van Gaal's office. After a brief exchange, she put the receiver down, stood up, and gestured for the man to follow her.
"Mr. Raiola, please follow me," she said, leading him through the corridors to the door of the technical director's office.
When they reached the door, she knocked softly before opening it. Inside, Louis Van Gaal was seated behind a large wooden desk, papers strewn across the surface. His eyes narrowed as he looked up and saw Raiola step in.
"Mr. Raiola," Van Gaal began, his tone curt and his expression wary, "I'm very busy at the moment. If this is about Ibrahimovic's transfer, I'm afraid I don't have time to discuss it right now. Could you come back after the season, please?"
Van Gaal's frustration was palpable. The last few months had been tense, and dealing with Raiola, known for being a shrewd and often infuriating agent, was the last thing he wanted.
Raiola, however, remained unfazed. He walked further into the office, his grin never faltering. "I think there's been a misunderstanding, Louis," he said, his voice smooth and reassuring. "I'm not here today because of Zlatan. I always respect the players' wishes, and since he's already reached an agreement with you, I'm not here to complicate things."
Van Gaal's tense expression softened slightly at this. The recent stability in the squad was a welcome change, and he certainly didn't want anything to disrupt the peace.
"So, what brings you here today?" Van Gaal asked, his tone still tinged with suspicion, as if bracing for some unexpected twist.
Raiola chuckled, enjoying the moment. "Didn't you ask me to come?" he asked, leaning casually against the desk.
Van Gaal frowned, clearly puzzled. "I asked you to come? For what?"
"Yes, you did," Raiola said, his smile widening. "You wanted to discuss contract renewals."
"Contract renewals?" Van Gaal repeated, the confusion evident in his voice. "For whom? Ibrahimovic? Maxwell?"
Raiola shook his head, still grinning. "No, no, Louis. They don't need renewals just yet. I'm here to talk about Yang Yang and Vermaelen."
Van Gaal's eyes widened in surprise. "What?" he exclaimed, unable to hide his shock.
Raiola's grin grew even broader, clearly pleased with Van Gaal's reaction. "Surprising, isn't it?" he said, reaching into his briefcase and pulling out a few documents. "As of today, I am officially the agent of Yang Yang and Vermaelen. Here's the agency contract we signed."
Van Gaal took the document from Raiola, scanning it carefully. After confirming that everything was in order, a sense of unease still lingered. He was surprised, almost bewildered, that someone like Raiola would suddenly become Yang Yang's agent. What could have motivated this?
Could it be Ibrahimovic?
It had to be. It was certainly the Swede who encouraged Yang Yang to reach out to Raiola. The very thought of Ibrahimovic made Van Gaal's hands tighten around the document. The Dutch coach had often found the towering striker to be a source of both brilliance and frustration, and the idea that Ibrahimovic might be stirring the pot once again made Van Gaal's blood boil.
Why Raiola, of all people?
Was this some calculated move to make things difficult for him? The thought gnawed at Van Gaal, but he quickly took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay composed. Losing his temper wouldn't help here. He exhaled heavily, trying to regain his composure, and nodded towards Raiola.
"Alright, let's get to it. What exactly do you want to discuss?"
Raiola's grin widened, sensing that he had the upper hand. "First, let's talk about Vermaelen. My client needs more playing time, more opportunities to showcase his talents. I think you saw his performance last night—what a beauty of a header, wasn't it?"
"That was Yang Yang's corner," Van Gaal retorted, his voice firm.
"Indeed, but you can't deny Vermaelen's finishing ability with his head," Raiola countered smoothly.
Van Gaal narrowed his eyes, feeling the conversation slipping further into Raiola's control. "So, what exactly are you asking for?"
"Just as in the past, we're asking for a salary increase. We want to double his current wages, bringing him to a weekly salary of one thousand euros. And of course, a promise of more playing time—surely that's not too much to ask?" Raiola's tone was casual, but his eyes were sharp, gauging Van Gaal's reaction.
Vermaelen's current salary was already close to Yang Yang's, with just a slight difference of a few tens of euros. Doubling it to a thousand euros seemed reasonable, given the Belgian's recent performances. As for playing time, Van Gaal knew he could accommodate that request.
"Fine," Van Gaal replied with a nod. "There's no issue with that."
In truth, Vermaelen's contract renewal was already on the agenda. After breaking into the first team, it was essential to secure his future at Ajax, ensuring that other clubs didn't lure him away with lucrative offers. The timing was perfect, capitalizing on his standout performance in the KNVB Cup quarter-finals to solidify his place within the squad. This would benefit both the club and the player.
"Now, let's move on to Yang Yang's contract," Raiola said, shifting the conversation. "I have to admit, after reviewing his current deal, I can't help but feel sorry for my client. His salary is embarrassingly low for someone of his talent. I'm curious to see how much sincerity you can show in renewing his contract."
Raiola's words were a challenge, one that Van Gaal knew he couldn't ignore. The ball was now in his court, and the room seemed to tense with anticipation.
"What are you proposing?" Van Gaal asked, his voice cautious.
Raiola didn't miss a beat. "Let's look at the current salary structure of your top players. Van der Vaart is at the top, earning 25,000 euros per week. Then there's Ibrahimovic, Wesley Sonck, Litmanen, Soetaers, Victor Sikora, and John O'Brien—all earning 15,000 euros per week."
As Raiola listed off the figures, Van Gaal's expression grew darker. Raiola paused for effect, watching the coach closely.
"Van der Vaart and Ibrahimovic are non-negotiable; their talents speak for themselves. Wesley Sonck, as your top scorer, and the veteran Litmanen, with his renowned European pedigree, are understandable at their pay grade. But then we come to players like Soetaers, Victor Sikora, and John O'Brien... Do you think Yang Yang deserves less than them?"
Van Gaal inwardly cursed. He knew dealing with Raiola would be tough, but he hadn't expected him to be this well-prepared. The agent had clearly done his homework, and Van Gaal could see the trap laid out before him.
How could he respond? Could he admit that Soetaers, Sikora, and O'Brien were overpaid mistakes—signings that hadn't lived up to expectations? That wasn't something he could openly say as technical director. It would undermine the club's credibility and his own authority.
Van Gaal could feel the tension rising as Raiola's smile remained firmly in place, a knowing glint in his eyes. The agent had played his cards well, pushing for a significant raise that would set a new precedent at the club. Van Gaal knew he had to be cautious. Offering too much too soon could disrupt the delicate balance within the squad, but offering too little could risk alienating a key player like Yang Yang.
"Mr. Raiola, you should know that Yang Yang's situation is not comparable to the others," Van Gaal stated, trying to maintain control of the negotiation.
"I know," Raiola responded smoothly, his smile never wavering. "I just want to remind you, Louis."
"Then what do you want?" Van Gaal pressed, already bracing himself for the answer.
"Three thousand euros a week," Raiola said, his tone casual, as if the figure was nothing out of the ordinary.
Van Gaal shook his head immediately. "That's impossible. A salary increase of more than seven times? Ajax will never agree to such a renewal."
Raiola shrugged, his demeanor unfazed. "Sneijder, De Jong, and others are in similar positions. If Yang Yang were to receive this salary now, it wouldn't be unreasonable, would it?"
Van Gaal had to admit that Raiola had a point. Yang Yang's performances had been exceptional, and his contributions were invaluable. Still, there was more at stake than just one player's salary. "You make a valid argument, but you must remember that Yang Yang is only 17 years old. According to our club's plan, if all goes well with him, there will be at least two more contract extensions within the next three years. We can't do it all at once."
Van Gaal understood the importance of leaving room for future salary improvements. If they offered Yang Yang such a high salary now, it could lead to a domino effect, with other players demanding raises. This could destabilize the entire team.
Raiola raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "What do you suggest then?"
"Two thousand euros, no more," Van Gaal offered, hoping it would be enough to satisfy both Raiola and Yang Yang while maintaining some semblance of balance within the team.
But Raiola didn't hesitate. "Then there's nothing more to talk about," he said, flatly rejecting the offer. "But it doesn't matter, we still have time."
Without another word, Raiola stood up, gave a nod to Van Gaal, and left the room.
As Van Gaal watched the Italian agent leave, a sense of frustration settled over him. How had Yang Yang, such a promising young player, ended up with an agent like Raiola? The Dutchman knew that this was only the beginning of what could be a long and challenging negotiation.
A headache began to throb at his temples. Yang Yang's potential was enormous, but navigating this situation without upsetting the balance of the team would be a delicate task. Van Gaal would need to tread carefully, or he risked not only losing a talented player but also the cohesion and harmony of his squad.
...
...
When Van Gaal returned home, the weight of the day's chaos hung over him, his good mood thoroughly spoiled. As he shared the morning's events with his girlfriend, Truus Opmeer, she couldn't help but giggle at his frustration.
"If you laugh again, I'll think about running away from home," Van Gaal said, half-serious.
"Fine, I won't laugh anymore," Truus replied, though her eyes still twinkled with amusement. "But I really don't understand—what exactly is the problem?"
Van Gaal sighed, struggling to find the right words. "I'm worried about his young age. He might be misled by some bad agents. The most important thing for him right now is to get stronger, play more games, not just chase after more money."
He spoke with genuine concern, his expression serious.
Truus tilted her head, considering his words. "Has that affected him? Hasn't Yang Yang been getting better and better lately? And even though his contract renewal has been stalled for a while, has it reduced his commitment and determination?"
Van Gaal paused, realizing that Yang Yang's performance hadn't been affected at all. In fact, the young player had continued to improve, showing no signs of being distracted by the ongoing contract negotiations.
"If I remember correctly," Truus continued, "you were the one urging him to find an agent and start talking about renewing his contract. Now that he's found one, you're not happy."
"Because he found a mercenary like Raiola," Van Gaal retorted, frustration bubbling up again.
Truus raised her hands in a calming gesture. "Then you need to consider the perspective you're taking."
"What do you mean?" Van Gaal asked, puzzled.
"From the point of view of Ajax's technical director, you have every reason to be frustrated," Truus explained. "Raiola is representing Yang Yang in negotiations with the club. His job is to fight for Yang Yang's interests, and you hate dealing with agents like him—I understand that."
Van Gaal nodded. That was indeed how he felt.
"But if you think about it as a friend," Truus continued, "isn't Raiola just trying to secure the advantages that Yang Yang deserves? Has he asked for an outrageous salary? Has he done anything that would harm Yang Yang's interests?"
Van Gaal remained silent, considering her words.
"If he has," Truus added, "then you should talk to Yang Yang directly and explain your concerns. But if not, I don't see why you're so upset. Maybe it's just that Raiola knows how to get under your skin during negotiations."
Van Gaal found himself at a loss for words. Truus's perspective made sense, and he realized he might have been letting his personal dislike for Raiola cloud his judgment.
"You know," Truus said with a comforting smile, "I think Raiola is actually very good at what he does. He knows how to protect his clients' interests. It's the previous agent who might have been the real problem for Yang Yang."
Van Gaal couldn't help but smile wryly at her words. "He's fine, but I'm miserable. Dealing with Raiola all day has me ready to explode!"
Truus laughed again at the look on his face, but she also understood something deeper. Van Gaal wasn't cut out for the politics of a technical director's role. He belonged on the football pitch, where his true passion lay.
That was where he should be—coaching, strategizing, and guiding his team, not locked in endless negotiations behind a desk.
L’AVIS DES CRÉATEURS 
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GxDesailly The last chapter of the week.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
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