Chapter 77: Trophy Dreams - In This Life I Became a Coach - NovelsTime

In This Life I Became a Coach

Chapter 77: Trophy Dreams

Author: Mr_Raiden
updatedAt: 2025-07-13

CHAPTER 77: TROPHY DREAMS

"We score first this half; everything changes," Adebayor thought as Monaco kicked off the second period.

The young striker positioned himself carefully at the center circle, his eyes scanning Marseille’s defensive setup for weaknesses revealed over the first forty-five minutes. Their confidence was evident in their body language—defenders standing taller, midfielders taking extra touches, and an air of casual arrogance that often leads to mistakes.

Monaco began the half with renewed urgency, passing more vertically as they sought to apply immediate pressure on Marseille’s organized defense. The tactical adjustments made at halftime were precise—D’Alessandro dropped deeper, Giuly drifted wider, and Evra pushed higher up the left flank.

Marseille’s response demonstrated their determination to protect their lead. Drogba dropped deeper to assist with pressing, while their midfield trio maintained a compact formation that denied space between the lines. Their experience in high-stakes matches was evident in these subtle adjustments.

The first chance of the half fell to Monaco in the forty-ninth minute. Alonso’s distribution found Rothen in space on the left, and the winger delivered a precise cross into the penalty area, where Adebayor had slipped away from his marker.

The striker’s header was powerful but directed straight at Runje, who gathered it with visible relief. The save appeared routine, but the goalkeeper’s body language suggested Adebayor’s timing caught him off guard.

"Keep going!" Giuly shouted from the right flank, recognizing that the young striker needed constant encouragement. The captain’s experience was invaluable in navigating the emotional complexities of such a decisive match.

Marseille created their next opportunity through a quick counter that exploited Monaco’s high defensive line. Mido collected the ball thirty yards from goal, his first touch evading Bernardi’s challenge before releasing Drogba with a perfectly timed pass that split the defense.

The Ivorian striker found himself one-on-one with Roma, a chance that typically guarantees goals at this level. He struck the ball powerfully toward the bottom corner, but Roma’s dive was impeccably timed, his fingertips deflecting the shot onto the post.

The rebound fell favorably for Monaco, with Squillaci clearing the ball with a header that reached Alonso in midfield. The crowd erupted, reflecting the dramatic shift from potential disaster to renewed hope in seconds.

Monaco’s equalizer came in the fifty-seventh minute through sheer persistence rather than tactical brilliance. Evra’s cross from the left was blocked, but the rebound fell to D’Alessandro at the edge of the penalty area. His shot was charged down, but the ball rolled kindly for Adebayor, just eight yards from goal.

The striker’s first touch was heavy, seemingly wasting the opportunity, but his second was exquisite—a delicate chip over Runje’s advancing figure that nestled into the net with devastating precision.

1-1.

Adebayor’s celebration radiated pure joy as he sprinted toward Monaco’s supporters, arms spread wide, his face a mix of relief and euphoria. Teammates engulfed him near the corner flag while the stadium erupted in a sea of red and white.

Marseille’s confidence visibly wavered after the equalizer, their defensive organization beginning to show cracks under Monaco’s relentless pressure. The compact shape that seemed solid throughout the first half started to stretch as fatigue set in.

Just six minutes later, Adebayor struck again, showcasing his growing influence. Giuly’s movement down the right flank drew defensive attention, allowing Alonso to advance into dangerous territory.

Alonso’s perfectly weighted pass found Adebayor running behind Marseille’s defensive line. This time, there was no hesitation. The striker rounded Runje with a composure that belied his nineteen years, sliding the ball into the empty net.

2-1 to Monaco.

This celebration was more measured, reflecting professional satisfaction rather than explosive emotion. Adebayor acknowledged his teammates’ contributions before raising his arms toward the Monaco supporters, who created a wall of sound.

Marseille’s response was predictably desperate. They pushed players forward with increasing abandon, their tactical discipline finally cracking under the pressure of chasing an increasingly unlikely equalizer as Monaco’s confidence surged.

The third goal—Adebayor’s hat-trick—arrived in the seventy-eighth minute during a counter-attack, highlighting Monaco’s tactical maturity. Marseille had committed numbers forward for a corner kick, leaving themselves vulnerable when Roma’s punch found Rothen in space.

Rothen’s pass released Adebayor clean through on goal, with thirty yards of space between him and Runje. There was no doubt about the outcome; the striker’s finish was struck with power and precision into the bottom corner.

3-1.

Adebayor’s celebration became theatrical as he removed his shirt and spun it above his head, surrounded by teammates. This hat-trick in a major final would define his career, marking the moment promise transformed into achievement on football’s biggest stage.

Marseille made desperate substitutions in search of a comeback that mathematics suggested was still possible, but momentum made it unlikely. Their players appeared demoralized as Monaco controlled possession with the confidence of a team that had found its rhythm at the perfect moment.

The final ten minutes passed without a serious threat to Monaco’s advantage. Their defensive shape remained compact while offering counter-attacking opportunities that kept Marseille honest despite their numerical commitments forward.

When referee Gilles Veissière blew the final whistle, confirming Monaco’s 3-1 victory, scenes of celebration erupted. Players collapsed to their knees, embracing teammates, coaching staff, and anyone within reach as emotion overwhelmed their professional restraint.

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FULL TIME: AS MONACO 3-1 OLYMPIQUE MARSEILLEAdebayor 57’, 63’, 78’COUPE DE LA LIGUE WINNERS 2003

The trophy presentation occurred on a hastily constructed stage at the center of the Stade de France. Monaco’s players gathered in red and white shirts, medals glinting in the stadium lights as they awaited the ceremonial moment validating months of hard work.

Giuly stepped forward to receive the trophy from the president of the French Football Federation, his captain’s armband visible beneath his winner’s medal. The silver cup sparkled as he raised it above his head, igniting another wave of celebration from the Monaco supporters.

"We did it!" Giuly shouted to his teammates, his voice barely audible over the crowd’s roar. "This is our first trophy, but it won’t be the last!"

Players took turns holding the cup, each savoring the weight of the silverware earned through their collective effort. Adebayor’s infectious grin spread as teammates congratulated him on the hat trick that defined his breakthrough season.

Yves watched from the sideline, allowing his players their moment while reflecting on the tactical lessons that victory had provided. The comeback was achieved through persistence rather than tactical genius, with character triumphing when mental strength was needed most.

Stone appeared with details about post-match obligations, including media interviews, celebration logistics, and travel arrangements for the return to Monaco. Every element was managed despite the emotional chaos that major victories inevitably create.

The changing room celebration was boisterous yet controlled. Players spray champagne while carefully protecting their equipment. Adebayor clutched the match ball, knowing his hat trick required official recognition through traditional football customs.

"Speech from the hat-trick hero!" someone shouted, and all eyes turned to the young striker who had transformed from a nervous teenager into a cup final legend in just ninety minutes.

Adebayor’s voice was hoarse with emotion as he addressed his teammates. "This team believed in me when others did not. This moment belongs to all of us—every training session, tactical meeting, and word of encouragement brought us here."

His words were simple yet heartfelt, capturing the collective nature of their achievement that individual accolades could never fully represent. Professional football is ultimately about shared sacrifice for common goals.

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POST-MATCH PRESS CONFERENCEStade de France Media Room

The press conference room was filled with journalists from across Europe, drawn by Monaco’s cup victory, which sparked international interest and highlighted the club’s growing reputation. Television cameras captured every word as Yves sat behind the microphone, with Adebayor beside him.

"Congratulations on your first major trophy," the first journalist began. "How does delivering silverware so early in your tenure at Monaco feel?"

"I am proud of the players," Yves replied. "They showed incredible character when we needed it most. The comeback was a testament to our persistence and belief in our approach."

A reporter from L’Équipe leaned forward. "Adebayor’s hat trick was spectacular. Did you expect such a performance from a nineteen-year-old in his first major final?"

"Emmanuel has been developing consistently all season. Tonight culminated months of hard work; it was not a surprise performance." The young striker shifted uncomfortably under the spotlight. Although his English was still developing, his pride shone through despite the language barrier.

"Emmanuel, how does it feel to score a hat-trick in your first major final?" another journalist asked.

"It feels amazing," Adebayor replied carefully. "My teammates supported me, and the coach believed in me. This is just the beginning for this team."

The questions continued, covering tactical adjustments, Morientes’ injury impact, and Monaco’s growing confidence in multiple competitions. Yves answered each with diplomatic precision while allowing Adebayor moments to shine.

"Final question," the press officer announced as the session concluded.

A veteran journalist from RMC Sport stood up. "This victory puts Monaco in contention for multiple trophies this season. How do you manage expectations while maintaining focus on immediate challenges?"

"One match at a time," Yves replied. "Tonight we celebrate. Tomorrow, we prepare for the next challenge. Success is built through consistency, not individual moments."

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HOTEL PLAZA ATHÉNÉE, PARISNOVEMBER 30, 2003 - 02:30 AM

The team hotel was quiet as Yves returned from the post-celebration dinner with players and staff. Most of the squad had retired hours earlier, their energy depleted by the emotional intensity of winning their first major trophy together.

His room was spacious but impersonal. It was the luxury accommodation professional football provided, but it never felt like home. The winner’s medal sat on the bedside table, catching the light from the window overlooking the sleeping streets of Paris.

A soft knock interrupted his reflection. Clara stood in the doorway wearing a hotel robe, her expression unreadable in the dim corridor light.

"Celebrating?" she asked, stepping into the room without waiting for an invitation.

"Reflecting," Yves replied, loosening his tie. "It was a big night for the club."

Clara moved toward the window, her posture tense despite the casual setting. "It was a big night for you too. Your first major trophy as a coach."

Something in her tone suggested this was not a congratulatory visit. Yves oversaw her, noting the controlled anger radiating from her body language.

"What’s wrong?" he asked directly.

Clara turned from the window, her eyes flashing with accusation. "The blonde at the celebration dinner. She was very friendly, wasn’t she?"

Yves frowned, genuinely confused. "Blonde?"

"Don’t play innocent. I saw you talking to her, laughing at her jokes, letting her touch your arm." Clara’s voice rose despite the late hour. "Very cozy for someone who’s supposedly in a relationship."

Memory clicked into place—the journalist from TF1 who had approached him during the post-match celebration, her questions extending beyond professional interest. The conversation had been harmless, but in the euphoria of victory, he hadn’t considered how it might appear to others.

"She was asking about the tactical changes," Yves said calmly. "It was a professional conversation."

"Professional?" Clara’s laugh was bitter. "She was practically undressing you with her eyes, and you were encouraging it."

"I was being polite to the media. It’s part of the job."

"Part of the job is flirting with reporters half your age?"

The accusation stung because it contained enough truth to be uncomfortable. The journalist had been attractive, and her attention had been flattering after a night of professional triumph. But nothing inappropriate had occurred—just a conversation that lasted longer than necessary.

"Nothing happened," Yves said firmly. "You’re overreacting."

"Am I?" Clara’s voice was dangerously quiet now. "Because from where I sat, it looked like you forgot you weren’t single anymore."

The argument escalated quickly, fueled by alcohol, adrenaline, and emotions that both had been suppressing for weeks. Clara’s professional success had been overshadowed by his growing prominence, while his increasing fame created temptations that tested their personal relationship.

"This is ridiculous," Yves said, frustration creeping into his voice. "I won a major trophy tonight. Can’t we celebrate instead of fighting about imaginary problems?"

"Imaginary?" Clara’s eyes blazed. "Your ego is getting so big you can’t see how your behavior affects others."

She moved toward the door, her decision made before the argument had fully developed. "Maybe you should call your new friend from TF1. I’m sure she’d love to continue your ’professional conversation.’"

The door slammed with a finality that echoed through the expensive hotel room, leaving Yves alone with his thoughts and the winner’s medal that suddenly felt heavier than expected.

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NOVEMBER 30, 2003 - 08:00 AM

Morning brought a harsh reality that sharply contrasted with the previous night’s euphoria. Yves stared at his phone, Clara’s number highlighted but undialed, aware that some arguments could not be resolved with simple apologies.

The team bus was scheduled to depart at noon and return to Monaco with their first major trophy in years. Players would celebrate with their families, supporters would gather at the stadium, and the media would analyze the significance of the victory for days.

Yet personal relationships remained complicated, regardless of professional success. Winning trophies did not automatically resolve the human problems that accompanied increasing fame and pressure.

His phone buzzed with congratulatory messages from coaching colleagues, former players, and media contacts celebrating Monaco’s historic achievement. The attention was flattering but felt hollow compared to the personal cost that success sometimes demanded.

The winner’s medal caught the morning light streaming through the hotel windows, its silver surface reflecting possibilities that seemed limitless and fragile. Professional triumph and personal failure could coexist in ways that no tactical preparation could prevent.

Monaco had won their first major trophy under his guidance, but some victories came with prices that were not immediately apparent on scoreboards or in newspaper headlines.

Novel