Paris is perhaps the most productive city for player development in the world. But could you beat one of the richest, most global clubs in football using only players from the City of Lights? Martin Vert has been set that challenge.

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April ’24

I wake in a cold sweat. I haven’t been sleeping. With three games to go, we are on the brink of a history well beyond our ambitions and our abilities. But tonight is different. It’s not the nerves or the adrenaline. The presence is back.

“Si. Bueno.” The presence is pleased.

“Now, finish.” Another voice. Another presence. Also Spanish, but harsher, harder.

I reach for my glasses but they aren’t there. I blink out into the darkened room and I’m sure I can see outlines of two men. “I don’t know what you want!” I cry out.

“Success.”

Suddenly, the sun is shining and I’m lying in a damp patch on the end of my bed. Anxiety dreams are real, people.

Anxiety whilst awake is my main concern for now though. By dint of Lens inconsistent form, we have scraped ourselves back into third place, and the possibility of the Champions League, on goal difference. We weren’t supposed to be here, and realistically, without our world class goalkeeper, we wouldn’t be. But we are. Years ahead of schedule, we have secured European football. And with it, the reputation and finances to leap a couple of rungs up the ladder toward PSG. And that’s the goal, in the end.

May finishes the season with three challenges. The first two, Strasbourg and Brest, are scrapping for their lives at the wrong end of the table, which always makes teams dangerous. The third are Lyon.

It’s somewhat poetic that our first game after securing European qualification takes place in the city of Strasbourg, where the European Union keeps vast government buildings. They have hit a kind of patchy form recently, which has lifted them above the relegation zone and, realistically, just a few points from safety. We have to make sure that they can’t pick them up against us. We have lost Alpha Sissoko for the game, which is a blow as he has been immense, but there is no room for excuses at this end of the season.

It’s a fairly comfortable performance, and Strasbourg never really get going. After twenty minutes, Doukansy nods a corner back to Amadou Traore, who drills into the bottom corner. We soak up pressure like we always do, and Doukansy and Camara are imperious at the back. At half time I tell them how well they’re playing, and the second half follows the same pattern, limiting our hosts to some pot-shots from range. We hit them on the break midway through the second half, and Farrugia is scythed down. Tattevin blasts the penalty into the roof of the net, and the points are ours.

Lens have dropped points, drawing with Brest to give us a two-point advantage in the fight for the Champions League. To enter Europe’s premier competition would be incredible, and now it’s all in our hands. Lens’ form has been a bit wobbly so a good result could put us out of their reach, but Rennes concern me – they are three points back but with a superior goal difference, and consistent. We can only focus on ourselves, though.

Lyon have beaten PSG in the Coupe de France, meaning that for a near €500m outlay over the last three years, and a wage budget approaching €300m a year, Pochettino has managed just the league title this season. Over three years he has won two league titles and one Coupe de France, and reached the quarter-finals of the Champions League once. Which for most teams would be great, but for PSG is, frankly, embarrassing.

We prepare for our match against Brest with mixed feelings. Mike Cestor is out for four months after tearing some ligaments in training, but that’s not it. Barring any delays, this should be our final match at the Pierre-Brisson. On the one hand, the players, the fans, and I can’t wait to get back to the Bauer and turn it into a fortress. But on the other, Beauvais has undoubtedly been a good home. Brest have picked up just the one point in their last nine games, leaving them deep in relegation trouble, so we’ll want to bid farewell to the town with an impressive performance. I drill that into the players, and they’re ready to go.

What’s impressive about our performance is our commitment to being Red Star. When Doukansy powers home a header after twenty minutes, I think we’re in for a comfortable afternoon, but yet again we create plenty of chances without extending our lead. The game only really fires into life in the final ten minutes. Brest get increasingly desperate as they need to survive for another week outside of the relegation playoff, and eventually a chance deflects away for a corner. Of course, they score with six minutes to go, and I think we’ve blown it. But a draw is no good for them, and they push harder, leaving a gap that the experience of Michael Barreto can’t help but take advantage of. With 90 on the clock he sets Mukelenge racing through, and the PSG loanee makes no mistake as he fires into the bottom corner.

Rennes have held PSG to a goalless draw, which is a good result but not enough to pull keep them in the race for the top three. Lens, however, have picked up a good win at home to Lyon keeping them too close for comfort. They finish the season away at a Toulouse side in the bottom two and clinging on by their fingernails. But you’d have to assume Lens will be too good for them. Meaning the two sides above them, both on 64 points, will both need results to stay in the Champions League places – us and Lyon – who just happen to be playing each other.

Lyon are an exceptional side. It says something about just how incredible our season has been that we are level on points with them. There’s not much more we can say about either side. It’s one game, one chance, and a bigger prize than we could have dreamed of.

UNBELIEVABLE! UN! BE! LIEV! A! BLE! We take an early lead when Mukelenge breaks down the left and drills across the box for Tattevin to turn home, but then it is all Lyon. It takes them barely ten minutes to equalise, when Dembele draws Fofana out of his goal and slides across to Cherki to put into an empty net. And they don’t let up. Fofana is drawn into save after save, and when they get a penalty in the second half I hold my head in my hands. But Fofana has been beaten once, he will not be beaten again. He stretches to his left to tip Dembele’s penalty away, and keeps it level. Still, Lyon come, wave after wave repelled by Camara and Doukansy, Fofana the shield that keeps us alive. And then, a chance. Amadou Traore beats Cherki. He beats Bjorkan. He cuts inside. He drills it across Anthony Lopes’s goal. And as the goalkeeper starts to dive, Tattevin sticks his head on it, diverting it the other way. We cling onto the lead for five minutes, Fofana making more saves, Sissoko clearing off of the line when he’s beaten, and after the longest three minutes of injury time, the referee blows. We’ve done it. Champions League, in three short years. Unbelievable.

The boardroom at our near-finished stadium is full as I enter to a round of applause. Even Steve is clapping, though avoiding eye contact, while Patrice and David have broad smiles on their faces. The players are all there, enthusiastic for the future. Patrice presents me with the Manager of the Season award, something I have wrested from Pochettino’s hands, and we hand out some player awards – almost all of them to Yahia Fofana, let’s be honest – and spend the evening drinking the champagne we nicked on our visit to Troyes and eating the gourmet spread that Patrice has splashed out on.

Eventually the players start to trickle out, to some nightclub. They try to get me to go along with them but I leave them to their fun and walk in the direction of my apartment. The streetlight flickers in front of me. And then all of them. And then they all go out. Silence. I’m alone. The Bauer is in darkness, the streets are empty, and this isn’t the Saint-Ouen I know at all. A thick Spanish accent speaks out in the darkness.

“We’re not finished yet.”

Preseason ’24

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