February ’22

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Damien Durand isn’t talking to me. I ask Cheikh Ndoye to have a word, but he’s not talking to him either. I don’t really blame him – he’s been magnificent, and he deserves a new deal – but my hands are tied. His parent decided to save money by living just outside Paris in the mid-1990s, when young Damien came along, and our project prevents me from extending or embellishing his contract. Really, it’s Mr. and Mrs. Durand’s fault. I blame them. The look he gives me when I come into training really is a view to a kill. (Yes, that’s a Duran Duran joke. Or Durand Durand joke. That’s the level to which I aspire.)

Stade Briochin are an odd side. They sit in fifth, just three points off of the playoff place, but they have a negative goal difference. They’ve conceded far too many goals, and their defence contends with the relegation-threatened sides for the worst in the division. Goalscoring is less of a problem for them. But I’d rather win 1-0 than 5-4. Actually, to be honest, I’d rather win 5-0. It’s been while since we really routed a team. Meissa Ba has a groin strain, but he’s been struggling and I was going to start Le Corre anyway. Tokpa comes onto the bench.

We are an absolute disgrace in the first half. We don’t get going at all. Theo Blondeau puts Briochin in front on 13 minutes, and we deserve to be behind. At half time I lay into them. I don’t often lose my temper, but that was abysmal. The lads take it on board and go out fired up for the second half, and we’re back to our old selves. Guel fires in just 7 minutes into the second half, and then Tre launches a penalty so hard into the top corner that I swear the goalposts lifted out of the ground slightly. Josue Homawoo nods home a corner on 58, and we’ve sewn up the game with a six-minute spell. Lucky.

The big news as we come off the pitch is that Laval have held Chateauroux, which gives us a five point lead at the top of the Championnat National. The boys celebrate that almost as much as they celebrated their own in. But there’s another smug suit hanging around my office. This time it’s Josue Homawoo’s agent. Again, he deserves a new contract. Again, my hands are tied. The agent sulks off to turn his player against me, but I call in our veteran goalkeeper Ludovic Butelle, who has a word with him. He’s obviously a better communicator than Ndoye, and Josue pops his head round my door the next day to apologise and drop the request. We’ve dodged that one.

Bastia-Borgo have struggled this season, and find themselves deep in a relegation battle. They sit two points from safety, in a group of four teams that are realistically fighting to stay out of three relegation spots (Sedan are bottom and with no real chance of survival). They have been unlucky though, only really losing games by the odd goal for most of the season. Cheikh Ndoye has picked up a knock in training, so Daillet comes into the side. Ba is fit to I put him on the bench. A win will guarantee us promotion.

That’s a great way to achieve our objectives. We played brilliantly and were comfortable throughout. It took half an hour to make the breakthrough, Stephane Sparagna getting his first goal for the club from a Damien Durand corner. The pair combined again a few moments later for Sparanga’s second goal for the club. I keep it simple at half time, and just tell the lads to carry on as they were. Mayoro N’Doye drills home from the edge of the box on 68 minutes, and crosses for Guel to end the day with an easy finish in injury time.

I try to imagine the party back in Saint-Ouen. We have elected to spend the night in Borgo, on Corsica, and the players are enjoying themselves in the bar. My instinct is to remind them that there’s still a league to win, but Charly Paquille convinces me to let them enjoy themselves. It’s a huge achievement, and we should savour it.

When we return to the Stade Bauer over the weekend, there’s a few signs of a party. Patrice and David are very happy, and a little hungover, and I notice that my picture has been crudely pasted to the wall behind them, between Guillermo Stabile and Helenio Herrera, the legendary Argentinians that were at the club 80 years ago. It’s a bit much. The local paper carries a small report that we have been promoted, but the coverage is dominated by PSG’s upcoming Champions League tie. That’s what we want to change. That’s the goal. This is just the start.

We are thrilled to secure the signing of Arnaud Tattevin from our fierce rivals Paris FC for next season. He will be joining us on a free when his contract expires, and I expect him to be a big part of our Ligue 2 squad. We’ll need more reinforcements because of the contracts we can’t renew, but our scouts have been on Tattevin all season and I’m delighted to have secured a striking option.

We welcome Concarneau to the Stade Bauer next. With nine games to go, they’ve got a lot of ground to make up in order to make the playoff, and would need a spectacular fall to get dragged into the relegation scrap. So they’re here mainly to ruin our party. The lads are a little off the pace in training this week, what with the partying I let them  do last weekend, but I don’t expect any excuses. I want a win, I want to stay top, and I want to be champions. Red Star have had precious little to celebrate over the last half-century, and winning the third tier would be a good start. We’re the walking wounded going into it, with some players having partied a little too hard and picked up knocks and illnesses as they recovered, but the first team is mostly unaffected. Ghabaoui comes in for El Hriti.

We start the game terribly, conceding inside ten minutes. And we finish the game with so many tired players that Kevin Gomis is in midfield and, for the last couple, Meissa Ba goes in at left back. But in between we look like title winners. Concarneau’s goal simply blows away any partying cobwebs, and we respond twice before half time. First, Durand curls in a free kick off the post, before Alvyn Le Corre puts Cadiou through with a sumptuous pass. Le Corre isn’t scoring as freely as I’d like, but he’s young and if he carries on linking the play like that then I’ll be very happy. Hacene Benali adds another in the second half.

Ibrehima Coulibaly is a player that hasn’t really been on my radar. He’s Mauritanian, and though he was born in Paris, he’s not somebody I’m considering taking into Ligue 2 with me. But I love him. When he broke through the line, a defence-minded midfielder, nobody expected much of anything. When he brought the ball down, there was a gasp. When he fired past the goalkeeper, in the 91^st minute, he did what no other Championnat National player has achieved this season. He scored a winner against Chateauroux. Lovely stuff.

We finally have a youth team! Sadly, our best prospect Chancel Kabangu, was born outside Paris, so he will sign his initial contract and I’ll try to make some money from him. Fabio Barroso can stay though, and we’ll see how he gets on.

Our last game of March takes us to newly defeated Chateauroux. They are the only side, other than Ligue 1 Troyes, that have beaten us this season, and we’re looking to avenge that defeat. We’re back to full strength, they are hurting, and I’m determined we’re going to hurt them and their huge wage bill again. Lets win this league in style.

Le Corre sets the tone early by rattling the bar early on, and we set about dominating the game. It’s a title-winning performance for sure, but we just can’t find the breakthrough. A Damien Durand free kick hits the post and bounces away, and his corners keep finding Homawoo in space, but the defender can’t find the target. I bring on Moussa Guel on 60 minutes and, on 63, he drives from range and it cannons back off the bar. Le Corre has another chance late on, which beats the keeper but comes back off the post. We’ve limited them to just three half chances, and we’ve hit the woodwork four times. I can’t really blame the lads for this one.

It’s been a good month. We’ve put some distance between ourselves and Chateauroux, and now we sit eight points clear with seven games to go. The title is ours to throw away.

April 2022

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