Meanwhile, after leaving Rodgers's office, Julien dismissed the manager's words as background noise.
He understood Rodgers too well. If the Northern Irishman's tactical system weren't genuinely suited to the Premier League, the Saudi consortium might have already decided on a managerial change.
Rodgers's football journey had been arduous. As a young man, he'd played for Reading's youth team but was forced to retire at the golden age of 20 due to persistent knee problems. Rather than leaving football, he'd stayed at Reading, working his way up from youth coach to academy director.
During this period, he frequently traveled to Spain to study the language and, more importantly, Spanish football philosophy. This experience earned him an opportunity to work alongside José Mourinho at Chelsea. Mourinho recognized in Rodgers similar learning capacity and tactical insight, and assigned him to oversee Chelsea's youth teams, nurturing the Blues' future stars.
The setbacks of his playing career, deep study of Spanish football, and apprenticeship under Mourinho together molded Rodgers's current tactical philosophy.
In early managerial positions at Watford and Reading, he'd tried incorporating Spanish-style passing and movement into traditional English 4-4-2 formations. The result was a tactical mess—neither fish nor fowl.
His move to Swansea came at the perfect time. Previous managers Roberto Martínez and Paulo Sousa had already established a tiki-taka foundation, providing an ideal platform for implementing his vision.
His Swansea system was built on three core principles: possession-based play, frequent ball circulation to create space, and zonal defending rather than fixed positional defense.
Lacking a Messi-caliber superstar, Rodgers made tactical adjustments to improve scoring efficiency. He blended Mourinho's pragmatism into Guardiola's idealism, ensuring the team maintained possession football while avoiding disastrous results.
In 2012, Rodgers took the Liverpool reins. Countless fans hoped he'd restore Shankly-era glory. But reality was harsh—his inherited players like Jordan Henderson, Stewart Downing, and Andy Carroll were better suited to traditional 4-4-2.
After a difficult opening six months, Rodgers brought in Coutinho and Daniel Sturridge. Recognizing Suárez's world-class ability, he decided to build around him.
His tactics emphasized possession as the foundation, demanding high pressing and quick combination play in small groups, aiming to produce suffocating pace on the counter-attack. Suárez's technique, Sturridge's speed, and Raheem Sterling's dribbling provided excellent running channels for the front line.
In midfield, Steven Gerrard remained the leader, Coutinho handled organization, and Henderson tirelessly covered both penalty areas.
When Rodgers first arrived at Anfield, he'd wanted to create England's Barcelona. Ultimately, his Liverpool more closely resembled England's Borussia Dortmund.
Sometimes Julien marveled at what seemed like fate. Liverpool would eventually welcome Dortmund's manager, Jürgen Klopp, after this season's Champions League final defeat. Liverpool truly would become Dortmund.
He'd already hinted to Dein about his admiration for the German manager. Whether Dein understood the implication remained to be seen.
Was Liverpool really Liverpool without Klopp? Julien felt that anyone who'd lived through those seven years couldn't imagine his departure.
Julien drew a deep breath. He'd wait for the right moment. He wanted to see what Liverpool would become with Klopp given proper financial backing.
Salah, Mané, Van Dijk—let them develop for now. He would lead this current Liverpool squad and try to create something. Perhaps something called hope.
Walking toward the training pitch, Julien encountered Steven Gerrard emerging from the changing room.
Steven Gerrard—an absolute Liverpool legend. Though perhaps no one yet knew he had just over a year before Liverpool would let him go. The main reasons were two: the club's reluctance to offer a long-term contract, and Rodgers's waning trust in him.
But all that would change now. With new ownership from Saudi Arabia, a contract was just paperwork—they'd provide it. Similarly, when Rodgers considered discarding Gerrard, he'd need to think harder about his own position.
Seeing Julien, Gerrard initiated the greeting. "Settling in alright with the team? The weather might not match France, but I reckon the people are decent enough. If you've got any problems, come find me."
Julien smiled. "The weather's definitely not ideal, but I'm managing well enough. Thanks, Captain."
"Call me Steven," Gerrard said, gesturing toward the training ground and suggesting they walk together. "I heard you're living in Carlton Apartments? Nice views there, though the roof gets noisy when it rains."
As he spoke, his fingers unconsciously tapped against his thigh—a rhythm developed from years of playing.
"Anfield's wind patterns are peculiar," he said, seemingly off-topic. "The grass near the corner flag areas gets slippery. If you're planning to break through from there, watch your footing."
Seeing Julien listening attentively, he continued: "The shower stall at the back of the changing room takes forever for hot water. If you want a proper hot shower, grab one of the cubicles near the door."
These details flowed from him like he was sharing keys to his home.
"If there's no match on Saturday, there's a little place down by the Mersey," Gerrard said, scrolling through his phone. "Owner's a lifelong Red. His shepherd's pie comes with extra cheese."
His ease in sharing the restaurant location showed this wasn't his first time doing this.
"Anything comes up, call anytime. The lads here look fierce, but really—" He glanced toward the players already on the training pitch, particularly Henderson's direction, raising his chin slightly. "They're all just overgrown kids."
"Got it, I'll remember all that," Julien nodded.
Gerrard smiled. "Come on then. Training doesn't officially start until tomorrow, but we can get a run in today."
"Right!"
Julien had already changed into his training kit before meeting with Rodgers. Gerrard headed off first while Julien waited for Kanté.
Watching Gerrard's retreating back, this first conversation stirred something in Julien.
Born in Merseyside, Gerrard had tied his red destiny to Liverpool at age eight. Everyone knew that Jon-Paul Gilhooley, the youngest victim of the Hillsborough disaster at just 10 years old, was Gerrard's cousin. The two boys, inseparable since childhood, had promised each other they'd "play for Liverpool together when we grow up."
But Jon's dream froze on April 15th, 1989. Since then, Gerrard's red shirt carried extra weight.
At Liverpool, he'd won every trophy except the Premier League title.
Julien had read Gerrard's autobiography, particularly about that infamous slip. His thoughts: "I sat in the back of the car, tears streaming down my face. I hadn't cried like that in years, but this time, from the journey home, I couldn't stop. Sitting there, I couldn't even tell if the streets were packed with people or completely silent. That fall... it felt like being killed."
"I couldn't see any hope. It felt like I needed round-the-clock supervision to prevent me from suicide."
Fortunately, that slip hadn't happened yet. And Julien had brought along his Bastia midfield partner—Kanté!
He didn't believe Liverpool could have their midfield exposed with both Henderson and Kanté protecting it.
Speaking of Kanté, the man himself appeared. This was Julien's only familiar face in the squad.
Kanté was characteristically reserved—even more uncomfortable here than Julien, as he barely spoke English. He relied almost entirely on translators.
Gray clouds typical of Merseyside hung over Melwood's training pitch, the grass deep green from last night's rain. Few players were present—official training didn't start until tomorrow, so today's attendees were the more disciplined ones: Gerrard, Henderson, Martin Kelly, Wisdom, and a few others.
Now Julien and Kanté joined them.
From his office window, Rodgers could see the training ground perfectly. Watching the handful of players below, he exhaled, hoping this season would finally realize his tactical dreams.
The next morning brought light rain. Rodgers stood at the center of the pitch, whistle hanging from his chest, sharp gaze sweeping over the warming-up players.
Julien wore an orange training bib, constantly moving. Teammates made no effort to hide their appraising looks. Everyone wanted to see whether this €80 million 18-year-old truly deserved that red shirt.
After warm-ups, Rodgers surveyed everyone. "Right, take a few minutes' rest. Then we're doing split-squad scrimmage. Just over a week until the new season starts. I want everyone sharp, maintaining that form from the end of last season. The Premier League title is ours for the taking!"
Players nodded in agreement.
Julien stood beside Kanté. While teammates assessed him, he assessed them in return.
The much-criticized Stewart Downing had been moved on by Dein—sold to West Ham United for approximately £6 million. Two years ago, Liverpool had paid £20 million for him. It was a catastrophic loss.
However, another player disliked by Liverpool fans—Rodgers's "favorite son" Joe Allen remained with the squad.
Julien felt two gazes carrying faint hostility: from Coutinho and Sterling.
Coutinho's resentment stemmed from having his number 10 stripped away, now forced to wear Downing's vacated 19. Sterling's displeasure was simpler—Julien's arrival basically meant a place on the bench for him.
After the break, the scrimmage began. Julien was assigned to the first-team group.
Initially, Julien mostly received safe, simple passes. Henderson gave him a pass to feet, then immediately retreated as if saying "sort it out yourself."
Suárez barely bothered making runs, merely watching this new number 10 with peripheral vision.
The turning point came in what seemed a hopeless situation. Julien was trapped wide right between two defenders, Henderson was already signaling for a back pass.
But suddenly, Julien flicked the ball backward with his heel. It nutmegged defender José Enrique—the usually defensively solid Spaniard didn't even register where the ball had gone. Simultaneously, Julien exploded past him on the outside, completing an audacious nutmeg-and-go.
"Brilliant!" someone shouted instinctively.
Then veteran Kolo Touré charged at Julien. An elastico sent him the wrong way as Julien burst toward the byline. When everyone expected him to cut inside—
BANG!
Julien accelerated toward the byline instead, whipping in a cutback to the penalty spot. Suárez's rushing finish was gathered by Mignolet.
But the attack's quality was undeniable. Several teammates' expressions changed after witnessing Julien's breakthrough.
Especially Suárez. He felt he'd only missed because he'd been caught off-guard, not fully committed. He hadn't expected Julien to actually deliver the ball—young players usually just shoot.
Suárez recognized Julien was different.
Gradually, Julien received more passes. Particularly Gerrard, who noticed that almost every ball he sent Julien's way was controlled perfectly.
Then, when Julien curved an outside-of-the-boot pass beyond the entire defensive line straight to Suárez's feet, Suarez finally gave him a thumbs-up.
"Good ball. My fault— am a bit rusty."
Julien just waved it off with a smile.
But this scrimmage seemed purpose-built to showcase him. Soon, when Julien received Gerrard's pass in midfield facing three pressing players, he suddenly dropped his center of gravity. His feet blurred through three stepovers before executing a Cruyff turn to escape the trap. Just as he lost balance, he knocked the ball forward.
Then, planting his hand for support, he sprang up and chased after it.
His pace left teammates trailing helplessly! The defense was shredded!
BANG!
Bearing down on Mignolet with only the keeper to beat, Julien didn't try to round him. Instead, reading the shift in Mignolet's weight as he advanced, Julien chipped delicately.
The ball nestled in the net.
Goal.
The training ground fell silent for a second, then erupted with teammates' approval.
"Well played!"
"Lovely finish!"
Mignolet stood shaking his head regretfully. Just joined Liverpool and already facing this level of difficulty?
Rodgers's fingers drummed unconsciously against his tactical board. He stared focused at the French teenager celebrating simply with teammates, and a wild thought flashed through his mind—perhaps the answer he'd been desperately seeking was right here in front of him.
He couldn't help muttering: "Christ... I might have found Liverpool's Messi."
His dream of creating England's Barcelona might actually have a glimmer of hope!
Rain began pattering down again, but nobody cared. Everyone remained absorbed in their own focus.
________________________________________________________
Check out my patreon where you can read more chapters:
patreon.com/LorianFiction
Thanks for your support!