The Premier League was back.

Michael Sterling stood on the touchline. The rain had stopped but the grass was wet and fast.

He looked at the scoreboard.

BARNSLEY vs WOLVES

0 to 0

It was the first minute. The season had officially begun.

Gary ONeil the Wolves manager was standing a few meters away. He looked serious. He knew that coming to Barnsley was no longer an easy trip. It was a visit to the dentist.

Arthur Milton sat on the bench. He was clutching his lucky bag of wine gums.

"I am nervous Boss," Arthur whispered. "First day of school feeling."

"Look at them Arthur," Michael said pointing to the pitch. "They are not nervous. They are hungry."

On the pitch Diego Nunez was marking the Wolves striker Matheus Cunha.

Cunha tried to move. Diego moved with him.

Cunha tried to breathe. Diego breathed on him.

"You are very close," Cunha complained.

"I am your shadow," Diego growled. "Where you go I go. Even to the toilet."

Cunha looked terrified.

MINUTE 15

The game settled into a rhythm. Wolves were a good team. They moved the ball well. But Barnsley had a secret weapon.

Erik Olsen.

The Norwegian winger had the golden aura that Michael had seen in training. He received the ball from Enzo Silva.

Enzo had won the ball by tackling two Wolves players at the same time. The Pitbull did not care about physics.

"Go Viking!" Enzo shouted from the floor.

Erik turned. He faced Nelson Semedo.

Usually Erik would look for a pass. But today he looked at the goal.

He dropped his shoulder. He accelerated.

It was explosive. One moment he was there and the next moment he was gone. He left a trail of water spray behind him.

Semedo tried to grab his shirt but Erik was too strong.

Erik drove into the box. He did not look up. He knew where the goal was.

He smashed the ball with his left foot.

BOOM.

The ball flew past Jose Sa before the goalkeeper could even raise his hands. It hit the back of the net with a satisfying thud.

GOAL.

1 to 0.

The Fortress erupted. Forty five thousand people jumped at the same time. The ground actually shook.

Erik Olsen did not smile. He ran to the corner flag and crossed his arms looking at the crowd.

"The Peak," Michael whispered. "He has reached the Peak."

MINUTE 40

Wolves were not dead. They fought back.

Pedro Neto was fast. He ran down the wing. He crossed the ball.

Hwang Hee Chan was waiting in the box.

Diego Nunez was there. But he slipped on the wet grass.

Hwang headed the ball.

Jan Visser the giant goalkeeper dived. He stretched his long arm.

But the ball was too perfect. It went in off the post.

GOAL.

1 to 1.

The Wolves fans in the corner cheered. They were loud.

Michael clapped his hands.

"Head up!" Michael shouted. "We expected a fight! Now we fight!"

HALFTIME

The locker room was hot. Steam rose from the players.

"They are fast," Tom the young defender said wiping his face. "Neto is like a motorcycle."

"Then puncture his tires," Jamie Vardy said. The veteran was drinking a Red Bull. "Not literally. Just stand on his toes. Accidentally."

Michael walked to the center of the room.

"We are playing well," Michael said. "But we are being too nice. Erik is carrying us. Who else wants to be a hero?"

He looked at Danny Fletcher.

"Danny. You are the King. Show me the crown."

Danny nodded. He tightened his boots.

"And Diego," Michael said.

"Yes Papa Michael?"

"Stop slipping. You are a Bull not Bambi."

"The grass is slippery," Diego grunted. "But I will put on longer studs. I will grip the earth."

SECOND HALF

The game became a war.

Enzo Silva was everywhere. He ran twelve kilometers. He tackled everything that moved including the referee by mistake.

"Sorry!" Enzo shouted. "You wear black! Wolves wear gold! I got confused!"

The referee just sighed and waved play on.

MINUTE 75

The score was still 1 to 1.

Michael looked at the bench. He saw Leo Stone. The Phantom. The fifteen year old wonderkid.

"Leo," Michael said. "Get ready."

But before Leo could come on magic happened.

Kai Sora had the ball. The Architect had been quiet. He was saving energy.

Now he saw the moment.

He saw Danny Fletcher make a run between the defenders.

Kai played the pass. It was a curved ball. It went around the defender like a boomerang.

Danny Fletcher collected it. He was one on one.

He did not smash it. He placed it.

Low. Hard. Corner.

GOAL.

2 to 1.

The stadium noise was deafening.

Danny ran to the crowd and kissed the badge.

FULL TIME

Barnsley 2. Wolves 1.

The whistle blew. Three points. The perfect start.

Michael walked onto the pitch. He hugged Diego. He hugged Erik. He hugged Arthur.

"We are running Boss," Arthur shouted. "The machine is running!"

THE EVENING DRAW

Later that night the squad gathered in the new media room at the training ground.

They had ordered pizza. Diego Nunez was eating a whole pepperoni pizza in two bites.

On the big screen the UEFA ceremony was happening.

"It is time," Isaiah King said holding his phone. "Champions League time."

They watched as the big teams were drawn.

MANCHESTER CITY vs REAL MADRID

BAYERN MUNICH vs ARSENAL

PSG vs BARCELONA

The room was silent. There was a mix of awe and jealousy.

"That is the big table," Jamie Vardy said sipping another drink. "That is the lobster dinner. We are eating fish and chips."

"For now," Michael said from the back of the room. "We are watching the Champions League but we are playing in the Conference League. Do not look down on it. A trophy is a trophy."

The screen changed. The blue logo of the Champions League disappeared. The green logo of the Conference League appeared.

UEFA CONFERENCE LEAGUE GROUP STAGE DRAW

"Here we go," Arthur said. "Please no trips to the North Pole. My coat is not thick enough."

The official on the screen reached into the bowl. He pulled out a ball.

He opened it.

BARNSLEY FC (ENG)

The players cheered.

"Okay," Isaiah said. "Who do we fight? Give me a team with good fashion."

The official pulled out the first opponent.

OPPONENT 1: FIORENTINA (ITA)

"Oooooh," the room went.

"Italy!" Enzo Silva shouted. "Pizza! Pasta! I like Italy!"

"Fiorentina wear purple," Kai Sora noted. "We wear purple. It will be the Battle of the Purple."

"They are strong," Michael said. "They reached the final last year. That is a Champions League level game."

The official pulled out the second ball.

OPPONENT 2: ASTANA (KAZ)

Arthur groaned and put his head on the table.

"Kazakhstan," Arthur cried. "It is five thousand miles away. It is colder than a freezer. My toes will fall off."

"We will buy you thermal socks Arthur," Michael laughed. "It is an adventure."

The official pulled out the third ball.

OPPONENT 3: HEARTS (SCO)

"Scotland!" Jamie Vardy cheered. "Just up the road. We can take the bus. And they have haggis."

"What is haggis?" Diego asked.

"Do not ask," Michael warned him. "Just eat it."

The official pulled out the final main opponent.

OPPONENT 4: HJK HELSINKI (FIN)

"Finland," Jan Visser said. "It is near my home. It is nice. They have saunas. We can get naked and sweat."

"Please keep your clothes on Jan," Isaiah said. "For the brand."

THE AFTERMATH

Michael stood up. He looked at the screen.

GROUP F:

BARNSLEY

FIORENTINA

ASTANA

HEARTS

HJK HELSINKI

"It is a good group," Michael said to the team. "We have Italy for the glamour. We have Kazakhstan for the challenge. We have Scotland for the fight."

"We will win them all," Diego stated. "I will eat the pasta. I will eat the haggis. I will eat the snow in Finland."

"We play Thursday and Sunday," Michael reminded them. "It will be hard. Your legs will burn. You will be tired."

He looked at Erik Olsen. The Viking was sitting quietly looking at the screen.

"Erik," Michael said. "Are you ready for Europe?"

Erik looked up. His eyes were cold blue fire.

"I am ready Boss," Erik said. "Wolves was just a snack. I want the main course."

Michael smiled.

He walked out of the room leaving the players to argue about which country had the best food.

He went to his office.

He looked at the tactical map on his wall. He took four pins.

He placed one on Italy. One on Kazakhstan. One on Scotland. One on Finland.

The Empire was expanding.

The Premier League season had started with a win. And now the European tour was booked.

Michael sat in his chair. He thought about the tiny shoes at home. He thought about the roar of the crowd when Erik scored.

"This is it," Michael whispered to the empty room.

The Dynasty was awake. And it was going global.

He picked up his phone and sent a text to Sarah.

Michael: Pack your winter coat. We are going to Kazakhstan.

Sarah: Does Kazakhstan have baby shops?

Michael: If not we will build one.

He put the phone down and laughed.

Life was good. Football was good.

And the Misfits were marching on.

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