They descended on the pizza like a pack of wolves, the air filled with the easy, boisterous laughter of teenagers. They were thrilled to see me, their faces alight with a mixture of hero-worship and genuine affection. They peppered me with questions, not about tactics or formations, but about the things that mattered to them.
"Gaffer, what's Benteke really like?" asked Tyrick Mitchell, our rock-solid left-back. "Does he have, like, a solid gold car?"
"No, Tyrick, he does not have a solid gold car," I said, laughing. "And he's a professional, just like you guys."
"Did you really tell Zaha what to do?" laughed Reece Hannam. "Like, did you shout at him?"
"I don't shout," I said, handing him a slice of pepperoni. "I explain. Very, very calmly."
"What did Klopp say to you? Did he say you were a genius?" asked Antoine Semenyo, his eyes wide. "Did he offer you his job?"
