The Next Big Thing
Chapter 121: New Coach

Chapter 121: New Coach

"Goalll!" David’s voice rang out through his apartment as he pumped his fist in excitement, eyes glued to the screen. He had just scored a goal, and his player—Robert Lewandowski—sprinted toward the sidelines, performing his iconic folded-arms celebration, a trademark move that oozed confidence. The virtual crowd erupted in cheers, and David grinned.

2-0.

He was winning.

His opponent, however, remained silent.

"You seem awfully better for someone who was screaming and shouting just minutes ago," Zoey’s voice finally came through.

David smirked but didn’t take his eyes off the screen. His midfielder, Kevin De Bruyne, had the ball now, weaving through defenders as he initiated another attack. Every pass, every movement felt precise—it was the result of hours of grinding, building the ultimate team he was now so proud of.

Of course, Zoey’s team was still miles ahead, but at least he could compete now. He had poured over $2,000 into packs, unlocking top-tier players to bolster his squad. It had been worth it.

"Yeah, I mean, I was shocked," he admitted, fingers deftly moving across the controller. "But I guess that’s football—you expect the unexpected. I tried calling him, but he didn’t pick up, so I assume he’s busy. I’ll call Jonathan later and see if I can get through to him. I need to say my thanks for everything he’s done."

He sighed.

"Honestly, it hurts. I thought we’d be great together—lifting United back to the top, fighting for the cup. He already believed in me, you know? So it’s sad to see him go. But I have to steel my mind. Stuff like this is bound to happen. Whether he quits or, like now, gets fired, it doesn’t change the fact that I have to focus on myself. In the end, that’s all that matters."

His voice was calm, logical. But deep down, he felt the sting.

Ole had been a good coach. A great one, even for him at least.

David never played under him, but he had received advice from him, and the trust Ole had shown in him meant a lot. That was rare in this game, and now it was gone.

Zoey, listening to his words, hummed. "That’s mighty mature of you, honestly."

David smirked. "For sure. That’s me—mature as always."

Right as he said that, his confidence wavered for a second. "Shit."

His winger—the one and only Lionel Messi—had just missed a golden opportunity to put the game beyond reach. An outside-the-box shot that should have curled into the top corner instead sailed just wide.

Zoey, unfazed, continued. "And what if the new coach is difficult? What if he doesn’t give you the same level of trust as Ole did?"

David chuckled, shaking his head. "Come on, I don’t want to sound cocky, but all I have to do is show him how good I am, and he’ll trust me."

He leaned back slightly, a grin forming. "I mean, it’s me. Just a day in training, and I’ll be in the starting lineup for the rest of next season."

His confidence was almost ridiculous.

Zoey’s voice dripped with sarcasm. "Yeah, it’s obvious you’re trying not to sound proud."

David couldn’t see her, but he could feel the eye-roll through the screen.

"Oh, come on, it’s just facts, man. If you saw me play, you’d get what I’m saying."

Zoey’s response was immediate. "I have seen you play."

David blinked. "Wait, what?"

"Nothing. Never mind." Her tone was quick, dismissive, as if she had said too much. "More importantly, who do you think the new coach will be?"

David paused for a second before returning his focus to the game. That was the big question now.

And, honestly, he had no idea.

But that didn’t stop David from guessing.

"I have notifications on, so any news, I should know. But from what I’ve seen, the biggest rumors are Zidane and Pochettino. Those two seem to be the most linked to Manchester United."

Zoey let out an unimpressed scoff. "Oh, come on. Take Zidane out of the equation. There’s no way he’s coming. He just won the league title with Real Madrid. No way in hell is he leaving for United."

David raised an eyebrow. "Hey, come on, it’s possible. I mean, there’s been talk of tension between him and the Real Madrid board since he came back—especially over how they handled Ronaldo’s exit. So who knows? He might actually be open to leaving."

Zoey rolled her eyes. "Zidane has been linked to United for years. Since 2018, before you guys even signed Ole. You all need to let it go."

David took that personally.

"Hey, Manchester United is the biggest club in England. There’s a reason he’s always linked to us and not to others." He paused, then narrowed his eyes. "You’re always coming after my team. Which club do you even support? I’m pretty sure you’re just salty because United probably crushed your team at some point."

A beat of silence.

Then Zoey’s voice came through, smooth and confident. "Barcelona."

David blinked. "Ehn? What?"

Zoey didn’t even hesitate. "I support Barcelona. Do you still want to talk?"

David sat there, momentarily speechless. Of course. Of course, she supports one of the only clubs bigger than Manchester United.

Not to mention the pain Barcelona had inflicted on United over the years. The memory of Sir Alex Ferguson shaking hands with Pep Guardiola after another Champions League final loss flashed in his mind like a bad dream.

David huffed, picking up his controller. "Whatever. Just play the game. I’m about to use your precious Messi to destroy your defense."

As if on cue, Messi weaved past Alphonso Davies, cutting inside dangerously. David went for the shot—

Missed.

"Shit."

Zoey burst into laughter. "What? You can’t talk anymore?" she teased. "You hear ’Barça,’ and all of a sudden, you go quiet? I guess reality finally hit you."

David wasn’t about to back down. "Dude, relax. It’s not like Barça is that much better. You’re only ahead of us by two Champions League trophies."

Zoey gasped in mock offense. "Ohhh, it’s about to be three. Double United’s count. Just wait—Champions League night is coming. We’re playing Bayern, and once we beat them, we’re taking down PSG in the final. That’ll be six UCLs to your three. Double."

David groaned. "You’re delusional if you think you are beating Bayern." (If you want a Chapter of David and Zoey Watching the Barca vs Bayern match like this picture)

Zoey ignored him. "And as for you using Messi? If you think that’s how to use him, you must be joking. I’ve been going easy on you. Now, I’m going to show you how to properly use Messi."

David gulped.

This was about to get serious.

"Yeah, yeah, congrats, congrats." David muttered as he dropped the controller in slight frustration. The match had ended 4-2, and more than anything, it stung that Messi had scored all four goals—basically having a ’poker’ in the game.

Through his headset, Zoey’s voice came through, filled with amusement. "That’s exactly what’s about to happen to Bayern. Just you wait. But man, when are you going to give up and accept that I’m better than you at video games?"

David scoffed, leaning back in his chair. "First of all, no chance of Barça beating Bayern. Secondly, your team is much better than mine. And thirdly—let’s be honest—you’re a freaking pro. It’d be disgraceful if you didn’t beat me. Honestly, the fact that I even kept up with you shows that I’m either insanely good... or maybe you’re just not that great at your job."

Her laughter crackled through his headset.

"Dude, I’m not even going to argue with you." Zoey said. "The match will settle itself soon enough. And as for the team? I have three accounts—this is my weakest squad. Lord knows what would happen if I used my pro squad and for the third one Don’t even go there."

David rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Let’s play Call of Duty now—I’m tired of FIFA."

"Chill, man." Zoey replied. "Let’s finish what we were saying about the coach situation first."

David had already exited FIFA 21 and was navigating through the menu to launch Call of Duty: Warzone. "What about it?" he asked.

Zoey’s voice sharpened. "About your new coach. How can you be so nonchalant about it?"

David shrugged, even though she couldn’t see him. "What do you want me to do? It’s not like I can change anything. I just have to impress the new one, that’s all."

Zoey sighed. "Whatever. Well, I think Mauricio Pochettino would be great for you. He’s known for trusting young players, so that wouldn’t be an issue for you. Plus, his playing style is attacking and high-pressing, which would suit United well especially you. He likes to dominate possession and play through the lines, and he’s flexible with his tactics, which is something United has lacked for years. On top of that, he’s worked with top talents and built competitive teams despite not having the biggest budgets. If he gets the right backing, he could really turn things around for United."

David smirked. "Yeah, yeah, whether it’s Zidane, Pochettino, or even if Sir Alex rises from retirement, I’m good with anyone. Now hurry up, I’m itching to kill you. Join already."

Zoey groaned through the mic. "I’m coming, I’m coming. You never get tired, do you?"

The 1v1 private match was about to begin.

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