Michael Sterling sat at the head of the long glass table. To his right sat Arthur Milton who was trying to balance a pencil on his nose. To his left sat Leo Volt the tech billionaire who was wearing a t shirt that cost more than Michael car.

"Gentlemen," Leo said standing up. "And Arthur."

"I am a gentleman," Arthur mumbled dropping the pencil.

"Today we launch Phase Three of the Dynasty," Leo announced. He pressed a button on a small remote.

The giant screen on the wall flickered to life. A logo appeared. It was the Barnsley crest but it was glowing neon purple.

THE MISFIT HUB

"What is this?" Michael asked leaning forward. "A video game?"

"Better," Leo grinned. "It is an app. A Super App. We built it just for the club. It connects the fans directly to the heartbeat of the team."

Leo swiped the screen.

"Look at this feature. It is called The Diego Meter."

On the screen was a picture of Diego Nunez face. Below it was a bar that went from Calm to Rampage.

"The fans can see Diego real time biometric data during the match," Leo explained. "When his heart rate goes up the bar turns red. When he makes a tackle the phone vibrates and makes a roaring sound."

"A roaring sound?" Arthur asked. "That will be annoying on the bus."

"It is immersive," Leo corrected. "And look at this. The Kai Cam."

The screen changed to show a live feed of the players lounge. Kai Sora was sleeping on a beanbag.

"It just shows Kai sleeping?" Michael asked.

"The fans love it," Leo said. "We have ten thousand people watching right now. They are betting on when he will wake up."

"This is ridiculous," Michael laughed. "But it is brilliant."

"There is also a marketplace," Leo continued. "Fans can buy Isaiah King image rights tokens. They can order pizza from the club restaurant directly to their seat in the stadium. And they can vote on the Man of the Match."

"And the revenue?" Michael asked. The businessman in him was awake.

"Projected five million pounds a year," Leo said casually. "The Asian market is going crazy for the digital avatars. Everyone in Seoul wants a digital Diego pet on their phone."

Michael looked at the screen. This was modern football. It was not just about grass and balls anymore. It was about data and connection.

"Launch it," Michael said. "Make it live."

Leo pressed a big green button.

THE MISFIT HUB IS ONLINE.

Almost instantly Michael phone buzzed. It was a notification.

ALERT: DIEGO NUNEZ HEART RATE IS RISING. HE IS EATING A STEAK.

Michael shook his head.

"We created a monster Leo."

"We created a goldmine," Leo winked.

After the meeting Michael walked down to the pitch. The players were testing the app on their phones.

Isaiah King was filming himself.

"Yo guys!" Isaiah shouted at his screen. "Download the app! If you subscribe to my channel you get to see my new haircut before my mum sees it!"

Jamie Vardy was poking his phone with a confused expression.

"This thing says I am 30 percent caffeine," Jamie said. "That number is too low. I need another drink."

Enzo Silva the Pitbull ran over to Michael.

"Boss!" Enzo shouted. "Look! My avatar has a dog! It looks like Rocky!"

"Leo thought of everything," Michael smiled.

But amidst the laughter and the technology Michael mind was elsewhere.

He checked his watch. He had an appointment. A very important appointment.

"Arthur," Michael said. "Take over training. Do not let Diego eat the iPad."

"Where are you going Boss?" Arthur asked. "To count the money?"

"No," Michael said fixing his tie. "I am going to look for a castle."

An hour later Michael pulled his car into a long gravel driveway.

He was not alone. Sitting next to him was Sarah.

Sarah had started as the club media officer. She was the one who interviewed him when he won Manager of the Month. Over the last two years the professional relationship had turned into dinners which turned into late night talks about tactics which turned into love.

She was smart. She was beautiful. And she tolerated his obsession with football.

"Are you sure about this Michael?" Sarah asked looking out of the window. "It is... big."

"We need big," Michael said. "I live in a two bedroom apartment above a bakery. Arthur comes over every morning to steal croissants. We need privacy."

They stepped out of the car.

The house was magnificent. It was a modern mansion built of white stone and glass sitting on top of a hill overlooking the Yorkshire countryside.

A real estate agent named Mr Jenkins was waiting for them. He wore a suit that was too tight and a smile that was too wide.

"Mr Sterling!" Jenkins exclaimed. "The Miracle Maker! Welcome to The Summit."

"The Summit?" Michael asked. "Does the house have a name?"

"Of course," Jenkins said. "It sits at the top of the hill. Just like Barnsley sits near the top of the league."

"Smooth," Michael noted.

They walked inside.

The hallway was enormous. You could play a 5 a side match in it.

"Marble floors," Jenkins pointed out. "Imported from Italy. The same marble used in the Vatican."

"I do not think the Pope plays football," Michael said.

They walked through the house.

There was a cinema room with twenty leather seats.

There was a gym that was bigger than the one at the old training ground.

There was a kitchen with three ovens.

"Three ovens?" Sarah asked running her hand over the marble counter. "Michael can only cook toast."

"I can learn," Michael defended himself. "I can make pasta. Luigi taught me."

"He taught you how to eat pasta," Sarah corrected with a smile.

Then they went to the garden.

It was vast. Green lawns stretched out towards the woods. And in the middle there was a flat area of perfectly cut grass.

"I took the liberty," Jenkins said pointing. "Of installing goalposts. Regulation size."

Michael walked onto the grass. He took a deep breath.

It was peaceful. No fans. No media. No Arthur eating snacks.

"It is perfect," Michael said. "How much?"

"Three million pounds," Jenkins said.

Two years ago that number would have given Michael a heart attack. Today it was just a number in the bank account.

"We will take it," Michael said.

Mr Jenkins left them alone to explore their new home.

Michael and Sarah walked up the grand staircase to the second floor.

There were six bedrooms.

"This one is the master," Michael said walking into a room with a balcony. "We can see the stadium lights from here."

"Always football," Sarah laughed.

"It is my life," Michael said. "Our life."

They walked down the corridor.

There was a room at the end. It was empty. The walls were painted a soft cream color. The sunlight poured in through a large round window.

Sarah stopped in the doorway.

"What about this room?" Sarah asked. "It is small. Too small for a guest room."

"Maybe an office?" Michael suggested. "I can put my tactical board here."

Sarah did not answer. She walked to the window and looked out at the garden.

"Michael," she said softly.

"Yes?"

"Do not put a tactical board here."

"Why? The light is good. I can see the formations clearly."

Sarah turned around. Her eyes were shining. She looked nervous but happy.

"Because tactical boards are sharp," Sarah said. "And babies crawl on the floor."

Michael froze.

The silence in the room was absolute. He could hear a bird singing outside. He could hear his own heart beating.

"Babies?" Michael repeated.

Sarah reached into her bag. She pulled out a small box. It was wrapped in purple paper. The club color.

Michael took it. His hands were shaking slightly.

He opened it.

Inside was a pair of shoes.

But they were tiny. They were white knitted shoes no bigger than his thumb.

And on the side of each shoe someone had stitched a tiny purple number.

10.

The playmaker number.

Michael looked at the shoes. Then he looked at Sarah.

"Are you..." Michael started. His voice failed him.

"Yes," Sarah smiled. tears running down her face. "We are going to have a new signing Michael. A free agent. Arriving in seven months."

Michael dropped the box on the floor. He stepped forward and wrapped Sarah in his arms.

He buried his face in her hair.

"A baby," Michael whispered. "We are having a baby."

"A little Misfit," Sarah laughed crying into his shoulder.

Michael pulled back. He looked at her.

"I have won trophies Sarah. I have won millions of pounds. I have beaten Manchester United at Old Trafford. But this..."

He touched her stomach gently.

"This is the biggest win. This is the Champions League."

"Do you think it is a boy or a girl?" Sarah asked.

"I do not care," Michael said beaming. "As long as it does not have Diego Nunez temper."

"Or Arthur appetite," Sarah added.

They stood there in the empty room of their new mansion. The sun set painting the walls in gold.

For Michael Sterling life had been a sprint. A race to build the club. A race to get promoted. A race to get rich.

But in this moment time stopped.

He was not the Manager. He was not the Boss.

He was a father.

That evening they drove back to the training ground. Michael wanted to tell the team. He could not keep it a secret.

The players were in the dining room eating dinner.

When Michael walked in holding Sarah hand the room went quiet.

"Boss?" Danny Fletcher asked. "Why are you smiling like that? Did we sign Mbappe?"

Michael stood at the front of the room.

"Better than Mbappe," Michael said.

He held up the tiny knitted shoes.

"We have a new player joining the academy," Michael announced. "Coming next spring."

For a second there was silence.

Then the room exploded.

Diego Nunez jumped over a table. He landed in front of Michael and picked him up like a doll.

"PAPA MICHAEL!" Diego roared. "A BABY! A LITTLE BOSS!"

"Put him down Diego!" Sarah shouted laughing. "He is fragile!"

Diego put Michael down and hugged Sarah very gently.

"I will protect the baby," Diego promised solemnly. "I will be the Godfather. I will teach the baby how to head the ball."

"No headers until they are five," Michael said.

"Fine," Diego grunted. "Then I will teach them how to growl."

Isaiah King ran over with his phone.

"This is content!" Isaiah shouted. "The Royal Baby! Can I buy the baby pink boots?"

"Yes," Michael laughed. "Pink boots are allowed."

Arthur Milton sat in the corner wiping his eyes with a napkin.

"Another mouth to feed," Arthur sniffed happily. "I will teach the kid how to find the best bakeries."

Michael looked around the room.

His players. His partner. His family.

He had the App connecting the world. He had the Mansion on the hill. And now he had a future that went beyond football.

The Dynasty was growing.

Michael looked at the tiny shoes in his hand.

"Welcome to the team little one," he whispered.

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