Michael Sterling woke up in his new bedroom at The Summit. The giant bed was soft like a cloud. He looked at the ceiling. It was quiet. No construction noise. No Arthur Milton eating toast.

He turned his head. Sarah was already awake. She was sitting up reading a book about baby names.

"Good morning old man," Sarah smiled.

Michael rubbed his eyes.

"Old man?" Michael asked. "I am thirty two. That is young for a manager. Roy Hodgson is seventy five."

"Happy Birthday Michael," Sarah said. She leaned over and kissed him.

Michael froze. He checked his mental calendar. August 24th.

"I forgot," Michael admitted. "I was thinking about the Fiorentina game."

"You always think about the next game," Sarah said. "But today you have to think about cake. And relaxing."

"Relaxing is hard," Michael said sitting up. "I have to go to the training ground. I need to check the medical report on Erik legs."

"Go," Sarah said pushing him out of bed. "But come back early. I am making dinner. And no football talk at the dinner table."

"I promise," Michael lied.

Michael drove his car down the hill. The roads were empty. It was a beautiful Tuesday morning.

When he arrived at the Sterling Era Training Complex he expected it to be empty. It was a rest day. The players should be at home playing video games or sleeping.

But the car park was full.

There was Isaiah King bright pink sports car.

There was Diego Nunez massive truck that looked like a tank.

There was Jamie Vardy blue van.

"Why are they here?" Michael whispered to himself. "Did I schedule training and forget?"

He walked into the main building. It was silent. Too silent.

He walked to his office. Empty.

He walked to the gym. Empty.

He walked to the locker room. Empty.

"Hello?" Michael shouted. "Arthur? Did aliens take everyone?"

There was no answer.

Then he heard a sound. It was a low rumbling noise coming from the restaurant area. It sounded like a bear humming a song.

Michael walked down the corridor. He pushed open the double doors to Luigi restaurant.

SURPRISE!

The noise was deafening.

Party poppers exploded. Confetti flew everywhere. Purple and gold streamers fell from the ceiling.

The whole squad was there. The staff. The cleaners. Even the groundsman.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY BOSS!" they screamed.

Diego Nunez was standing on a chair. He was wearing a party hat that looked tiny on his bald head.

"WE GOT HIM!" Diego roared. "HE LOOKS SCARED!"

"I am not scared Diego," Michael said wiping confetti from his shoulder. "I am shocked. You are supposed to be resting."

"We rest later," Enzo Silva shouted. The Pitbull was running around with a balloon tied to his wrist. "Now we party!"

Arthur Milton walked forward. He was holding a tray of pastries.

"We organized this Boss," Arthur said proudly. "Well Isaiah organized the music. Luigi organized the food. And I organized the tasting of the food."

"Of course you did," Michael smiled.

The party was chaotic. It was exactly like the Misfits.

Isaiah King had set up a DJ booth in the corner. He was playing a remix of the Champions League anthem mixed with Happy Birthday.

"This is a banger!" Isaiah shouted. "Listen to the bass!"

In the middle of the room there was a giant object hanging from the ceiling.

It was a piñata.

But it was not a donkey or a star.

It was shaped like a referee. It had a black and white shirt and a yellow card in its hand.

"Who made this?" Michael asked looking at the paper mache figure.

"I did," Diego Nunez said proudly. "It is Referee Mike Dean. I want to smash him."

"Diego," Michael sighed. "You cannot smash referees. Even paper ones."

"It is therapeutic Boss," Jamie Vardy said appearing with a can of Red Bull. "Let the big man have his fun. He has been waiting all morning."

"Okay," Michael said. "But only the paper one."

Diego grabbed a plastic bat. He approached the piñata.

"For the yellow card against Wolves!" Diego screamed.

WHACK.

He hit the piñata so hard it exploded instantly. Sweets flew everywhere.

But not just sweets.

Diego had filled it with mini protein bars.

"Protein!" Diego roared scrambling on the floor to collect them. "Muscles for everyone!"

The players laughed. Even Jan Visser the giant goalkeeper was smiling as he picked up a chocolate bar with his massive hand.

THE GIFTS

After the violence against the piñata it was time for presents.

They made Michael sit on a throne. It was actually just a big chair from the lobby draped in a purple flag but it felt regal.

"First gift," Arthur announced. "From the Attackers."

Isaiah King walked up. He handed Michael a box.

Michael opened it.

It was a jacket. A bomber jacket made of purple silk. On the back embroidered in gold thread were the words: THE GODFATHER.

"It is custom made Boss," Isaiah said. "Wear it on the touchline. You will look like a boss. Literally."

"Thank you Isaiah," Michael said touching the silk. "It is... very shiny."

"Shiny is good," Isaiah nodded. "Shiny wins trophies."

"Second gift," Arthur said. "From the Midfielders."

Kai Sora walked up. He was wearing his sunglasses indoors as usual.

He handed Michael a small envelope.

"We bought you a subscription," Kai said coolly.

"A subscription?" Michael asked opening it.

"To a sleep app," Kai explained. "It has sounds of rain. Sounds of the ocean. You work too much Boss. You need to nap. Like me."

"I will try it Kai," Michael laughed. "But I doubt I can sleep as much as you."

"Nobody can," Kai said seriously. "It is my talent."

"Third gift," Arthur announced. "From the Defenders."

Diego Nunez and Enzo Silva walked up. They were carrying something heavy. It was wrapped in brown paper.

They placed it on the table. It made a loud thud.

"Open it Papa Michael," Diego said.

Michael tore the paper.

It was a shield. A real round metal shield. It looked like something a Viking would use. It was painted with the Barnsley crest.

"We made it," Enzo said. "Well Diego bent the metal. I painted it."

"It is for protection," Diego said. "If the FA come back. If the bad referees come. You use the shield. You block them."

Michael looked at the shield. It was heavy. It was rough. It was beautiful.

"This is amazing," Michael said. "I will put it in my office. Next to the trophy."

"And finally," Arthur said. "From the Staff."

Arthur handed Michael a small box.

Michael opened it.

Inside was a watch. It was not a Rolex or a Patek Philippe. It was a simple vintage stopwatch. It looked old.

"It belonged to my grandfather," Arthur said his voice quiet. "He was a scout too. He used this to time the sprints of players in the 1960s."

Michael looked at Arthur. The old scout eyes were watery.

"Arthur," Michael said. "I cannot take this. It is family history."

"You are family Boss," Arthur said. "You gave me a job when everyone said I was just a fat man who liked cakes. You made me part of a Dynasty."

Michael stood up. He hugged Arthur.

The room erupted in applause.

"GROUP HUG!" Diego roared.

The Bull ran forward. He wrapped his arms around Michael and Arthur. Then Enzo joined in. Then Danny. Then Jan.

Soon Michael was crushed in the middle of thirty sweaty happy men.

"I cannot breathe," Michael gasped.

"Breathing is overrated," Jamie Vardy shouted from the back. "Suffocate in the love!"

THE SPEECH

Eventually they let him go. Michael fixed his shirt. He put on the silk jacket Isaiah gave him.

He looked at his team.

"Thank you," Michael said. The room went quiet.

"Usually birthdays get worse as you get older," Michael said. "You get wrinkles. You get grey hair. You get back pain."

"I have back pain," Jamie Vardy shouted. "It sucks!"

"But this birthday," Michael continued. "This is the best one. Because I am not just getting older. I am getting richer. Not in money. But in this."

He pointed to the team.

"Two years ago we were strangers. We were rejects. We were misfits. Now look at us. We are Champions of Seoul. We are a Premier League team. We are a family."

He looked at Leo Stone the fifteen year old wonderkid who was eating a slice of pizza in the corner.

"We have a future."

He looked at Jamie Vardy.

"We have experience."

He looked at Diego.

"We have madness."

Diego grinned and flexed his biceps.

"This season will be hard," Michael said. "We play in Europe on Thursday. We play in England on Sunday. We will be tired. We will be hurt."

He picked up the metal shield.

"But we have a shield now. We protect each other. If one falls the other picks him up. If Enzo bites someone Diego pays the fine."

"I have no money left!" Diego complained. "I spent it all on the piñata!"

"Then we win the prize money," Michael laughed.

He raised a glass of apple juice.

"To the Misfits!" Michael toasted.

"TO THE MISFITS!" the room roared.

THE AFTERMATH

The party continued for another hour.

Diego Nunez tried to teach Jan Visser how to salsa dance. It ended with Jan tripping over a table and destroying a stack of napkins.

Jamie Vardy organized a race between Enzo Silva and a cleaning robot. Enzo won but he barked at the robot for cheating.

Michael sat in the corner with Arthur. They watched the chaos.

"This is a good team Boss," Arthur said eating his fifth pastry.

"It is a special team Arthur," Michael agreed.

"Did you tell them about the baby?" Arthur asked.

"Not today," Michael said. "Today is about them. Next week I will bring the tiny shoes."

Michael looked at his phone. He had a message from Sarah.

Sarah: Dinner is in the oven. Come home birthday boy.

Michael stood up.

"I have to go Arthur. Keep an eye on them. Make sure Diego does not eat the plastic cutlery."

"I will try Boss," Arthur said. "But he looks hungry."

Michael walked out of the restaurant. He walked through the quiet corridors of the training ground.

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