Of all the soccer clubs in all the world, why did Hugo freaking Powers have to walk into mine…?
The last thing I expect when I get my dream major league coaching role is to find that someone else has been given the same job.
And horror of all horrors, that someone is disgraced British midfielder Hugo Powers—who’s had so many one-night stands he doesn’t remember ours.
We might be sharing an office (and an evening of regret), but that’s where the similarities end. Hugo’s all “drill ’em till they drop”, while I believe most things can be fixed with yoga and essential oils.
Either way, we have until the end of the season to convince the club’s owners who’s the right man—or woman—for the job.
And it looks like we’re both prepared to fight till the final whistle…
