Chapter 835 Saint Petersburg

Chapter 835: Chapter 835 Saint Petersburg

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[01-07-2021 | Team Hotel, Saint Petersburg, Russia | 23:45 BST]

The meeting room on the second floor smelled of instant coffee and printer toner. A single projector threw the shape of tomorrow’s possible lineup onto the wall, boxes and lines shifting every time someone leaned over the laptop and dragged a name from one column to another.

Löw sat at the head of the table, sleeves rolled to the elbow, a red marker capped and uncapped in his hand like a metronome. Around him, his assistants rounded the table, calmly analyzing the team sheet. Fredrick Bauer, his assistant manager, reached for the tablet and began moving players around.

"Spain will play with a quick midfield," he said, tapping the tablet in front of him. "Their fullbacks push high; their wide players tuck in. If we go direct again like Bucharest, we’re giving away possession we can’t afford against a side that keeps the ball for fun like us."

"And if we play through midfield with them," Fischer said, "we need bodies who can receive under pressure and turn. The question is whether we face this Spain side with experience or with creativity, because the first goal will likely set the tone of the game."

Assistant coach Marcus Sorg grunted. "Easier said than done, but it’s a big risk putting in Wirtz or Jamal in that midfield." he paused, moving the players around. "They would likely face a Koke fresh of a La Liga victory, and the Barcelona duo of Busquets and Pedri, who have been in phenomenal shape all tournament."

Silence hung in the room as the player’s stats were highlighted on the monitor. Despite the own goal against Croatia in the last round, he completed 114 passes in the final third and covered 46.9 kilometers. The fact that Spain scored 11 goals all tournament and he started in all four games just showed how much of a factor he was in that team.

"Koke worries me more," Bauer said, leaning forward until his forearms rested against the table. "Pedri is brilliant, but he’s eighteen. He wants the ball and wants to play. Koke is the one who makes sure everyone else gets to."

Sorg nodded slowly. "And Busquets makes the whole thing possible." The screen changed again, and three circles appeared across the center of Spain’s projected formation, Busquets sitting slightly behind the other two.

"They’re not individually overwhelming in the way France can be," Bauer continued. "But together, they suffocate you, especially with Busquets controlling the tempo, allowing the other two to operate."

Löw finally stopped clicking the marker. "Which is why we can’t let them play their game, or we will be chasing shadows."

The room quietened as he stood and walked toward the projected formation, his body briefly blocking Pedri’s name from the wall. "Spain will play their game; our job is to figure out who will let us play our game." He pointed toward the center circle. "Possession is only dangerous if they dictate the game."

Fischer leaned back in his chair. "Then we’re back to the same question. Experience or legs?"

"Both," Sorg replied. "It’s the only answer, just a matter of which pairings."

"Gündogan, Goretzka, and Kross give us experience, physicality, and control." Sorg reached across the table and dragged the names into the midfield. "The problem is going forward and Kross’s lack of stamina for a control tower."

"I agree Spain is likely to speed up the game on attack once they get into rhythm," Bauer commented with a sigh. "I say we play him along with Wirtz and Musiala in the middle."

"Didn’t you just criticize Kross for his lack of legs?" Fisher retorted. "And are we seriously discussing two eighteen-year-olds in the knockout stage who haven’t been given a start all tournament?"

"We saw what they can do together in the middle of the last game, and with Wirtz being a more complete midfielder, she can support Kross." Bauer retorted, defending his suggestion. "We could also move him into the flanks, but competition there is already fierce between Gnabry, Rex, and Sane."

The room went silent for a moment at his words as the men genuinely began considering his suggestion. "Goretzka definitely has to play, or who else will keep Pedri at bay?" Marcus Sorg put in a wedge, stating the obvious that the young Pedri would turn Kross inside out within the first half.

"Let’s end the meeting here and revisit it after the morning practice." Löw capped the marker, finally setting it down beside the untouched cup of coffee in front of him. "We won’t reach a conclusion here."

~~~

[02-07-2021 | Hotel Astoria, Saint Petersburg, Russia | 01:18 BST]

May had concluded sometime during the flight that traveling with Eniola was dangerous. Not physically but financially for sure, as throughout their trip through Europe, the women shopped with no end in sight.

"You don’t need another coat." She complained, but her new friend looked personally offended.

"I’m in Russia, it’s a crime to leave without some good fur." The beautiful Ebony-skinned model replied indignantly that she had to defend this. "You’re supposed to be a model."

May stared at her for a second before glancing toward Sarah, who was sitting comfortably in one of the armchairs beside the window with her legs tucked beneath her. "Can you please explain to her that being a model doesn’t mean buying every piece of clothing, you see?"

Sarah lowered the glass of water she had been drinking and gave the question serious consideration, her expression almost painfully innocent. With her soft blonde hair falling loosely around her shoulders and the naturally warm features that photographers seemed determined to describe as wholesome, she looked entirely too sweet to be dragged into the argument.

"I mean..." she started carefully, earning an immediate suspicious look from May. "Technically, buying clothes does support the industry."

Eniola pointed triumphantly at her, whirling around her new fur scarf. "Thank you."

"Traitor," May muttered.

Sarah laughed, lifting both hands. "I didn’t say you needed the coat. I’m just saying she has an argument."

"She already bought three."

"Two," Eniola corrected.

"Three."

"The cream one doesn’t count."

May blinked. "Why wouldn’t the cream one count?"

"Because that one is a gift."

"For whom?"

Eniola hesitated for only a moment. "Mua in Paris."

Sarah immediately broke into laughter, dropping her head as May stared at the other woman as though she had just confirmed every accusation against her.

"There it is," May said, pointing at her. "This is exactly what I’m talking about. You create occasions to justify clothes."

"That’s called planning."

"That’s called a problem."

"That’s called fashion."

Sarah’s laugh only grew louder, and May eventually gave up, sinking deeper into the sofa with an exaggerated sigh. Their hotel suite had become increasingly chaotic over the last hour, with shopping bags spread across the sitting area, two open suitcases near the bedroom doors, and clothing draped over the backs of chairs as if they had been living there for a week rather than having arrived earlier that night.

The trip itself had come together surprisingly quickly as what had started as three women sharing a major Khaite shoot turned into lunches, an exchange of numbers, and then an invitation from May. When she mentioned traveling to Saint Petersburg for Germany’s quarter-final, Eniola had agreed almost immediately.

Since the Nigerian beauty was based in Paris, she was already heading to Europe, so a slight detour didn’t bother her much. Sarah, on the other hand, was out of her Kansas comfort zone and had agreed spontaneously, since she would end up in Europe around September for spring fashion week anyway.

A year ago, let alone a few months ago, she would never have imagined herself here. She had been street cast by her current agent before the pandemic and had only done small shoots and one state shoe commercial. It was entirely her doing that led to her first major break at Khaite.

Eniola, on the other hand, was the veteran in the trio, having spent the better part of seven years ramping up her career. While not yet superstar-level, she was still a Googleable name among her country’s models.

May still found herself wondering how she had agreed to travel with two people who were essentially strangers to her. Still, she saw it as a good chance to network and get to know the first friends she made in the business. Though why they had to fly into Paris and take a minivan to Amsterdam only to take a flight to St. Petersburg was beyond her.

"So, what are we doing tonight?" Sarah jumped out of bed with clear expectations. "I so want to meet different people."

"Oh, do you hear that, May? Sahrah is already sick of us," Eniola teased, but also ceded her votes. "I wouldn’t mind going to a club either, you’re only in Russia once, right?"

"Sure, why not anyone have a location in mind?"

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TO BE CONTINUED...