Football: The British Legendary Manager

Paul stopped joking with Henry and became serious. "Man, you are no longer a kid. You have managed to lead a team to the Premier League, you have been in this industry for so many years, and you know how it works."

"In the Premier League, you are the manager and can decide the life and death of a player, but here, your role is to be a head coach and lead the team to victory. The rest has nothing to do with you."

"And you have to accept that you are not dealing with a few unknown players in the third or second division but with superstars. If you are not getting along, they can even decide to sideline you. So, man, I'm not asking you to accept being humiliated or anything, but remember a sentence you always said: a man is someone who is ready to bear any consequences of his actions."

"Although I don't know why the old man Di Benedetto knows you, I can see the expectations and trust he has for you. I also trust you and am willing to follow you from England to Italy. There are also some fans who are willing to wait and give you the chance to prove yourself. So come on, man, don't let small things like that ruin the bigger picture."

Henry could only look at his friend helplessly. Paul may have thought that due to the pressure, he wouldn't be able to control himself, but this wasn't the case. He was really confident in himself.

Since the system was activated, the worst-case scenario was to be expelled by AS Roma and find a club in the lower division to start over. Just with this one skill and the ability to see players' status, he could make a comeback. Nonetheless, he was touched by his friend's caring.

"Come on, you know that I'm not that kind of person," Henry said, a small smile breaking through his earlier tension. "I've faced tougher situations than this."

"Remember when we were in the lower leagues, scraping by with barely enough funds to keep the team afloat? This? This is just another challenge, and I'm ready for it."

Paul raised an eyebrow, his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall. "Oh, I remember. But back then, you didn't have a locker room full of egos the size of Rome itself. These players? They're not just talented; they're used to getting their way. If you're not careful, they'll eat you alive."

Speaking of getting along with players, every head coach has his own way. Mourinho makes his players believe it's them against the world, Ferguson has his hairdryer and old gangster style, Ancelotti's "I don't have a problem with any player," or even Benitez's "you should just be like a bot and emotionless." In short, everyone has his own way of managing the locker room.

Henry's way was to be tough so that players wouldn't underestimate him, even if it meant benching the team's star. But here in Rome, it couldn't work. If he dared to bench Totti or De Rossi, there's no doubt his career in Rome would be over.

At the same time, thinking of it from the perspective of modern football, the tough method seems to no longer work. Nowadays, players have more and more say and freedom.

A coach can no longer bench a player if he wants because the latter can simply trigger the termination clause after reaching an agreement with another team.

Before, if a coach didn't get along with a player, the player could be sacrificed, but nowadays, it's the exact opposite. He has to accept that players have more and more say and power.

Henry sighed, running a hand through his hair as he processed Paul's words. He knew his friend was right. Modern football had changed, and the dynamics between coaches and players were no longer as straightforward as they once were.

The days of absolute authority were fading, replaced by a more collaborative, albeit complicated, relationship.

"Okay, Paul, isn't that why you are here? With your bald and friendly head, I'm sure the players won't make things difficult for me."

Paul was immediately speechless and couldn't help but look at Henry's hairstyle and curse him. "Hmm, don't worry. Once you are married, you'll naturally join our ranks. At that time, you'll no longer have to spend hours on your hairstyle."

Henry laughed, shaking his head at Paul's retort. "Fair point, but until then, I'll enjoy every strand I have left. Besides, I think the players might appreciate a coach who doesn't look like he's auditioning for a role in a mafia movie."

Paul smirked, rubbing his bald head with mock pride. "Hey, this is the look of a man who means business. No distractions, no nonsense. Just pure focus. You could learn a thing or two."

The banter between the two friends lightened the mood, but Henry knew the underlying message was serious.

Paul was right. Modern football required a different approach, and Henry needed to adapt if he wanted to succeed at Roma. Now, it was about building relationships, earning trust, and finding a way to inspire players who were already at the top of their game.

"Okay, man, now give me some time to memorize this damn speech in Italian. You can send a staff member to inform me when the players arrive."

Paul chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah, go practice your Italian. Just don't butcher it too much, or they might think you're insulting their mothers instead of motivating them."

Henry rolled his eyes but waved him off, turning his attention to the papers in front of him. His command of Italian was decent, but delivering a speech that could set the tone for his tenure at Roma was a different challenge altogether.

He knew that first impressions were crucial, and in a locker room filled with players who had seen managers come and go, he couldn't afford to stumble.

Even so, Henry felt like burning the paper in front of him. No way—God knows how hard he worked to obtain his coaching certificate at a young age without any help. He never thought that after that, he would need to memorize something one day.

If it were in English, he wouldn't need to memorize anything because the speech is his idea and what he thinks, but unfortunately, he isn't good enough to improvise in Italian.

Despite his complaints, he started speaking the language, repeating it again and again. It wasn't until about forty minutes later that someone knocked at the door.

A staff member peeked in. "Mister Henry, the players are all here."

Henry looked at the clock in the office and found that there were still about 30 minutes before the officially agreed training time, but still, it wasn't that strange.

It was the first training session, one that was too important. Everyone had to come earlier, especially since there was a new head coach.

Players still needed to know their new positions and the philosophy of the head coach, especially since there was no news about Henry to know if he was too strict or anything.

Henry stood up and adjusted his suit. "Alright, time to meet those stars."

....

Okay, guys, I admit I was really happy to see how many Power Stones I received yesterday. If everything goes smoothly, there will be two chapters tomorrow. Thanks for the encouragement, I hope you'll continue supporting me!