November in Yorkshire was grey.

Michael Sterling stood in his office. He looked at the League Table on the big screen.

The fairy tale start was over. The reality of the Premier League had arrived.

PREMIER LEAGUE TABLE: GAME WEEK 12

1. Manchester City 29 pts

2. Arsenal 27 pts

3. Liverpool 26 pts

...

8. Newcastle United 18 pts

9. Barnsley 17 pts

10. Brighton 16 pts

Ninth place.

It was incredible for a promoted team. It was a miracle. But after being fourth in September falling to ninth felt like a cold shower.

Arthur Milton sat on the sofa. He was eating a carrot.

"This rabbit food is making me sad Boss," Arthur grunted. "I miss donuts. And I miss winning every week."

"We are ninth Arthur," Michael said turning from the window. "We are above Chelsea. We are above Manchester United. If you told me this in August I would have danced naked in the car park."

"Please do not do that," Arthur said. "But you know what I mean. October was hard. The draw against Wolves. The loss to Villa."

"Villa are good," Michael said. "And we are tired. The squad is thin."

Michael sat at his desk. He opened The Oracle.

The software from Leo Volt was scary. It knew everything.

[MONTHLY PERFORMANCE REVIEW]

TEAM FATIGUE LEVEL: 78 percent

INJURY RISK: HIGH

TACTICAL FAMILIARITY: 92 percent

"The players are tired," Michael noted. "The intensity of the Premier League is draining them. Kenji Sato ran twelve kilometers against Palace last week. Even his battery has a limit."

"And Diego," Arthur pointed at the empty space on the defense list. "We miss the noise. Benjamin Pavard is class. He is elegant. But sometimes you do not need elegance. You need a hammer."

"Diego is close," Michael said. "He started running on the anti gravity treadmill yesterday."

Michael walked down to the gym.

It was warm inside. The smell of sweat and rubber filled the air.

In the corner Diego Nunez was on a machine that looked like a spaceship. It used air pressure to lift his body weight so he could run without hurting his knee.

Diego was sweating. He was shouting at a TV screen that was showing a replay of the Barnsley versus Wolves game.

"Pass the ball!" Diego roared at the screen. "Do not dribble there! Aaargh!"

"Calm down Diego," Michael said walking over. "You will break the machine."

Diego stopped running. He looked at Michael. His eyes were wild.

"I hate watching Boss," Diego said breathing hard. "It is torture. Wolves scored a goal because Higgins was too polite. He did not eat the striker. I would have eaten him."

"Higgins is doing well," Michael defended. "He has formed a good partnership with Pavard. The Beauty and the Beast."

"I am the Beast," Diego grunted. "Higgins is just... a large man."

On the mats nearby Benjamin Pavard was doing yoga. He was upside down. He looked perfectly balanced.

Shaun Higgins was trying to copy him. Higgins looked like a tree falling down in slow motion.

"Breathe Shaun," Pavard said calmly from his headstand. "Find your center."

"I cannot find my center," Higgins wheezed his face turning purple. "I think my center is too heavy."

Higgins collapsed with a loud thud.

"Yoga is harder than tackling," Higgins groaned.

Michael smiled. The spirit was still good. Even in ninth place the Misfits were together.

They moved to the tactics room for the midday meeting.

Michael stood at the front. He put up the stats from the last month.

PLAYER OF THE MONTH: BENJAMIN PAVARD

PASS COMPLETION: 96 percent

INTERCEPTIONS: 15

"Benjamin has been a rock," Michael said. "He has settled in. He speaks better English than Jamie Weston now."

The room laughed. Jamie Weston winked.

"But we have a problem," Michael said pointing to the screen.

GOALS SCORED IN OCTOBER: 4

"The goals have dried up," Michael said. "Teams have figured us out. They know about The Carousel. They know Isaiah wants to cut inside. They are parking the bus against us."

Isaiah King was sitting on a beanbag. He was wearing a new neon yellow tracksuit that hurt the eyes.

"They double team me Boss," Isaiah complained. "Every time I get the ball two defenders come. Sometimes three. It is not fair."

"It is respect," Michael corrected. "They fear you. But now you must evolve. If two men come to you that means someone else is free."

Michael looked at Kai Sora.

Kai was wearing headphones. He was looking at a tablet.

"Kai," Michael said.

Kai took off the headphones. "Yes Boss."

"Leo Volt sent me your data," Michael said. "You have created the most chances in the league. But our conversion rate has dropped."

"The strikers are missing," Kai said simply. "I put the ball on the plate. They do not eat."

Danny Fletcher looked down. The Captain had not scored in three games.

"I am trying Kai," Danny said quietly. "I hit the post against Villa."

"The post is not the goal," Kai said. He was not being mean. He was just stating a fact.

"We need a new weapon," Michael announced. "Plan B."

He clicked the remote. A new animation appeared on the screen.

TACTIC: THE OVERLOAD

"Teams are blocking the middle," Michael explained. "So we go wide. But not just with wingers. Pavard. You are going forward."

Pavard raised an eyebrow. "Me? I am a defender Boss."

"You are a World Cup winner," Michael said. "You have technique. I want you to overlap. When Isaiah cuts inside you go outside. Two versus two. Chaos."

"I like chaos," Pavard smiled.

"And Kenji," Michael said.

Kenji Sato stood up and bowed. "I am ready Sterling san."

"You are going to stop running everywhere," Michael said.

Kenji looked horrified. "Stop running? Are you firing me?"

"No," Michael laughed. "I want you to run smartly. Save your energy for the final third. I want you crashing the box. Be a ghost. Arrive late."

"A ghost," Kenji nodded. "I will be a spooky ghost."

Later that afternoon Michael sat with Arthur in the cafeteria.

"We are ninth Arthur," Michael said stirring his coffee. "Are the fans unhappy?"

"The fans are singing about us in their sleep," Arthur said. "We are Barnsley Michael. Ninth in the Premier League is dreamland. Only the internet fans are unhappy. The real ones? They are loving the ride."

"Good," Michael said.

He felt a vibration in his pocket.

[SYSTEM ALERT]

[PLAYER DEVELOPMENT UPDATE]

Michael opened the app on his phone.

NAME: ISAIAH KING

STATUS: MATURING

NEW ATTRIBUTE: TEAM PLAYER

NOTE: The subject is learning that passing can be as famous as scoring.

NAME: BENJAMIN PAVARD

STATUS: LEADER

INFLUENCE: HIGH

NOTE: The subject is teaching the defense how to be calm.

NAME: DIEGO NUNEZ

STATUS: CAGED ANIMAL

RECOVERY: 85 percent

NOTE: The subject is ready to return ahead of schedule. His rage is healing him faster.

"Diego is ahead of schedule," Michael told Arthur. "He might be back for the December rush."

"Thank god," Arthur said. "We need the Bull for the winter. The pitches get heavy. We need power."

The team bus was waiting. They were travelling to Nottingham Forest for the next game.

Nottingham Forest were fifteenth. It was a game Barnsley should win. But in the Premier League there were no easy games.

Michael stood by the door of the bus.

Kai Sora walked up. He was not wearing pajamas today. He was wearing a smart suit.

"You look professional Kai," Michael said surprised.

"I lost a bet with Pavard," Kai sighed. "He said if I cannot hit the crossbar from the halfway line sitting down I have to wear a suit."

"And you missed?"

"I hit the post," Kai said looking annoyed. "It was the wind."

"Get on the bus," Michael laughed.

Isaiah King walked up. He was filming himself on his phone.

"We are going to Nottingham!" Isaiah shouted into the camera. "Robin Hood country! I am going to steal the three points and give them to the poor!"

"Who are the poor?" Michael asked.

"Us Boss," Isaiah grinned. "We need points."

The bus pulled away.

Michael looked out the window at the grey Yorkshire sky.

They were ninth. The hype had died down. The cameras were looking for the next big story.

But Michael liked it this way.

When you are the underdog nobody sees the teeth until it is too late.

He opened his laptop. He looked at the stats one more time.

EXPECTED GOALS (xG): 4th in League

EXPECTED POINTS: 5th in League

The data said they were playing well. The results just needed to catch up.

"Forest away," Michael whispered. "Let us get back to winning ways."

He looked back down the bus.

Pavard was teaching Higgins how to tie a tie.

Kenji was reading a book about Nottingham history.

Diego was FaceTiming his mother and shouting in Spanish.

Kai was asleep in his suit.

They were Misfits. They were weird.

But they were ready.

The mid table slump was just a pause. The climb was about to start again.

Michael closed his laptop.

"Arthur," he said.

"Yes Boss?"

"Pass me a donut. I think we earned it."

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