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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“Release the shackles…”
I wake with a start, in a cold, clammy sweat. There was a presence in my room. I could feel it. It whispered to me, in a thick Spanish accent. No, not Spanish. But like Spanish. I sit up and look around, but there’s nobody else here. I roll over and try to go back to sleep, but it’s unsettling and I just lay there, awake, alert, waiting for the dawn to break.
My apartment in Saint-Ouen isn’t far from the Bauer, but as I walk down to the ground to get the coach to Beauvais I can’t help but feel someone is following me. I’m sure the echoes aren’t only of my footsteps. But whenever I check there’s nobody there, and by the time I board the coach I’ve managed to put it out of my mind. Just a bad dream.
Our visitors today are Caen, and the plan is to send them home with some bad dreams of their own. They are the first of six opponents in April, and if we can get through this month in the right way promotion will be secured. I look back down the coach at Yahia Fofana, and he smiles his broad, confident smile, and I know it’ll all be ok. Caen already have nothing to play for in mid-table, so they’ll be halfway on the beach already. Yes. It’ll all be fine.
Ok, so maybe not quite on their holidays. They keep us out for the whole of the first half, and all we can manage are a couple of set piece chances that we put over the bar. I bring on Mbala up top in the second half and change things around, only for Jason Tre to get himself sent off for a silly challenge. No matter, we keep pushing, and Mbala finally gives us the lead from a Kevin Fortune cross. Sparagna seals the result when he heads into an empty net after a Barreto free kick cannons off the bar. Job done.
Sochaux are next up. They sit in mid-table, and should be clear of any relegation drama, but with just one win in their last nine games, they will have one eye on the drop zone. They just concede too many goals, and while Adama Niane was banging them in it didn’t matter much, but he’s out for the rest of the season and the rest of the squad struggle to find the net. Something with which I can sympathise. Balde comes in for the suspended Tre.
For a long time it feels like a normal Red Star performance, and when we take the lead through a lucky own goal it feels like we’ve reached a new shithousing-to-victory low. But Sochaux equalise immediately, so I switch to two strikers. Mbala’s first touch is to get on the end of a Latouchent cross to restore our lead. His second, a few minutes later, puts away a cross from Cadiou. And then the old man gets in on the act, picking up the ball 40 yards out and just rifling one into the bottom corner. I’m not used to this many goals, it’s made my light-headed.
Charly Paquille tells me to take the pressure off of the team before our next game, which is against league leaders Troyes. It could be a historic game for the club, a win would secure our promotion to Ligue 1, but they have been unstoppable. A win would also put us top, above them. I try to tell the lads that it doesn’t matter, promotion is a case of when, not if, and they look blanky at me.
“What the fuck are you on about boss?” Mike Cestor hobbles to the group. “We don’t relax. We fight for every point. You taught us that.”
“Every game is a battle. A clean sheet is a clean sheet, I don’t care who it’s against.” Yahia Fofana adds, his usual confident smile replaced by a steely look.
Cheikh Ndoye stands up at the back. He walks into the middle of the group. He points to his chest. “They’re good. They’ve got money. They’ve got experience. But this…” he pounds his chest, “this is why we’re better!”
The team roars, and they’re out the door. 90 minutes from immortality. We can do this. We can do this.
Oh my giddy aunt. We have done this! Troyes create chances from the start, but the only way to beat Fofana is with a free kick. But that just fires us up more. The boys start throwing themselves into every challenge, they find an extra yard of pace, an extra reserve of grit, and that man Arnaud Tattevin breaks his goalless streak to equalise before half time. We stick with it in the second half, and I’m ready to take a point, but they aren’t. They’ve got heart, just like the old man said. When Cadiou lays it back to Latouchent I’m shouting at players to get into the box. But the full back cuts inside, and unleashes a ferocious strike that almost bursts the net. The crowed erupt, and a few moments later erupt again as the final whistle goes. We have done it! Red Star are a Ligue 1 side for the first time since 1975!
Ajaccio host us in a midweek fixture, so there isn’t much time to party. As the great football philosophe Sean Dyche once said, you can only enjoy promotion for about 60 seconds before you start to look forward again. So here we are, making the long trip down to Corsica and trying to keep everybody focussed. We make a host of changes to help with that, and to rest the tired legs that ran themselves ragged against Troyes.
Probably a little too much celebrating, and the Corsicans brings us back down to earth with an almighty crash. We are simply not at the races in any way, and we are indebted to Fofana for keeping it from becoming a rugby score. Even then, it’s a game of what might have been, as Mbala’s two late, late goals would have been enough for a point if Old Man Ndoye hadn’t missed a penalty. As it happens, Troyes, who also got promoted over the weekend, must have partied a little too hard as well, so we stay top.
We don’t have long to feel sorry for ourselves, as Dijon make the trip to the Pierre-Brisson just a few days later. They sit in fifth, and last year would have been in the playoffs, so they’re a good side. Roger Assale is the dangerman, although Moussa Konate also gets his fair share of goals. I put the first string out, more or less, and I’ll just have to hope they used their midweek break to recover rather than continue the celebrations. Now I’ve tasted the top of the table I’m getting greedy, and I want to stay there.
We start very brightly, Cadiou missing an early chance and then Massouema beating his man and dinking it over the goalkeeper for a lovely finish in only the eighth minute. And then we don’t know where the goal is again. But Fofana has found his form, so the one goal is enough as he deals with whatever Dijon then try to throw at him. We see the game out for three more points, and then discover that Troyes only managed a draw at Quevilly-Rouen, giving us a three-point advantage at the top. They have a vastly superior goal difference, so that’s not much of a change, but it’s still nice to have a little clearance.
Guingamp are our final opponents of April, and they have just secured their survival in Ligue 2, so I’m expecting something if a party atmosphere from them. But not from us. We fight for every point, and we want this title. Josue Homawoo picked up a knock in training so Christopher Attys comes in and Doukansy drops into the back line, and El Hriti gets a chance because of a suspension to Jason Tre.
We are solid, but then we are always solid. Guingamp probably start the brighter, working Fofana a couple of times before half time while we struggle to find our feet. But in the second half we’re much better, taking control of the game and forcing the back. Because of tiredness and injuries I haven’t got the options on the bench I usually have, so I just tell the lads to attack higher up the pitch and, eventually, it unlocks the door. Benali cross, Tattevin finish, three points. And Tattevin gets his 10th goal of the season!
Having seen out April with another win, we stay top of Ligue 2. We are already promoted, so winning the league really would be the cherry on the cake.
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