Leon stared at his phone, the bus rattling down the dark motorway.

The celebratory noise from his team, his 'single-digit-heroes', was a happy, distant buzz.

It was a text message from Professor Antonio Bianchi. It was a 'pass-mark'.

He was still staring at it when he walked into the 'war-room' the next morning.

Biyon was already there, his leg propped on the desk, a 'Welcome-to-Single-Digits (-9)' banner (made of old printer paper) hanging crookedly on the wall. Walter was, as usual, just... 'present'.

"He's obsessed!" Biyon roared, as Leon showed him the phone. "Completely, totally, 100-percent 'obsessed-with-you', Leo! He's a 'fanboy'! A 'Bianchi-fanboy'! He's probably writing a 'thesis' about you right now! 'The-Beautiful-Psychology-of-the-Chaos-Gaffer'!"

"He is… 'studying'," Walter Samuel rumbled, not looking up from his 'match-data' (a very muddy notebook). "The 'avalanche'… 'changed'. It was not 'blunt'. It was... 'smart'. He is... 'intrigued'."

"It was your idea, Walter," Leon said, a wave of gratitude washing over him.

"The 'go-around-it' plan. That was all you."

Walter just nodded, a tiny, almost-invisible shrug.

"The 'wall'... was 'high'. We… used a 'door'."

"See!" Biyon yelled, pointing his crutch. "It's the of 'Coaching-Madness'! You, Leo, are the 'Soul'! The 'Gaffer'! The 'Big-Idea'!" He pointed at Walter. "You! You are the 'Brain'! The 'Logic'! The 'Ice-Man'! The 'Door-Finder'!"

"And what are you?" Leon asked, a grin spreading across his face.

"Me?" Biyon looked offended, as if it was obvious. "I am the 'Heart'! I am the 'Chaos'! I am the 'Emergency-Megaphone-of-Joy'! I am the one… who 'orders-the-pizza'!" He beamed. "We are 'unbeatable'!"

Leon laughed, a real, deep, happy laugh. For the first time, he actually believed it. They were on -9 points. They weren't just 'surviving'. They were... climbing.

And then, the 'climb' got… complicated.

The mood in training that week was different. It wasn't 'desperate' anymore. It was… 'bouncy'.

"Gaffer?" Dave the baker asked, after a training drill where he'd successfully not fallen over. "Are we… you know… are we good?"

Leon's blood ran cold. This was a new problem. This was worse than 'post-apocalyptic-football'. This was… 'expectation'.

"We're 'dangerous', Dave," Leon said carefully.

"Nah," Liam 'Badger' Doyle chimed in, wiping sweat off his face. "We're not 'good', Gaffer. We're terrifying. I 'read-the-forums'. They're calling us the '-9-Nightmare'. They're scared of us."

Leon looked at the 'Badger's' happy, 'murderous-muppet' face. He was right. They were scared. And that was the problem.

Their next match was at home. At The Apex. Against Blyth Spartans.

Blyth weren't a 'wall' like Hereford. They weren't a 'tractor' like Scarborough. They were… 'fine'. A normal, mid-table, "we-win-some-we-lose-some" team.

And they were, 100 percent, 'beatable'.

The pressure was on. The "Controlled-Avalanche" worked when they were the 'underdogs', when they were 'stealing' a point. But what happened when they were... supposed to win?

What happens when an 'avalanche' starts from 'level-ground'?

Match day. The Apex was… 'full'. Or, 'Apex-full'. The tiny stands were packed. The fans weren't 'desperate' for 'hope' anymore. They were 'hungry' for a 'win'.

Leon could feel it. He was a nervous wreck.

"Okay," he said, in the 'war-room' (which was just his office) before the match. "The 'Bianchi-text'… the 'Walter-plan'… it's the 'future'. We have to be 'smarter'. We 'go-around-it'. We 'use-the-door'. 'Fast', 'smart' football. 'Operation: Evolved-Avalanche'."

Biyon, from his 'Eagle's Nest' (a 'borrowed' cherry-picker from a local-builder, overlooking the pitch), crackled over the radio. Walter, his earpiece in, just listened.

"Biyon… 'agrees'," Walter rumbled. "He says… 'Let's-be-tactical-ninjas'. He is… 'in-a-cherry-picker'. He is… 'happy'."

The whistle blew. Leon unleashed his 'Evolved-Avalanche'.

And… it was 'boring'.

It was terrible.

The team, his beautiful, 'chaos-muppets', were thinking. And it was 'painful-to-watch'.

Jamie 'Racehorse' Scott would 'go-around-it'… run 50 yards… and then 'forget' the ball.

Liam 'Badger' Doyle, instead of 'flying-in', would 'stop', 'think-about-the-geometry-of-the-tackle'… and the 'striker-would-run-past-him'.

'The Mountain' was 'dropping-into-the-hole' so much, he looked like he was 'gardening'.

It was… 'slow'. It was 'polite'. It was… Hereford.

The fans were quiet. Leon was 'dying-inside'.

Halftime. 0-0. The locker room was silent.

"Gaffer?" Jamie Scott asked, his voice small. "The 'smart-thing'… it's 'hard'. I keep… 'thinking-about-my-feet'. And then I 'trip-over-them'."

Leon looked at their confused, 'sad-puppy' faces. They were 'trying-to-be-smart' for him. For 'Bianchi'. And it was 'killing' them.

A furious, 'static-filled-screech' came from Walter's earpiece. Walter didn't even 'flinch'.

He listened. He nodded.

"Biyon… suggests… 'a-new-plan'," Walter said, his voice a 'gravelly-monotone'.

"What is it?" Leon asked, 'desperate'.

"He says… 'Stop-being-boring'. He says… 'This-is-not-a-library'. He says… 'We-are-not-ninjas'. He says… 'We-are-a-mud-tsunami'. He says… 'less-thinking'… 'more-Badgering'."

Leon looked at Walter. Walter looked at Leon. A tiny, almost-'invisible' spark of 'anarchy' was in Walter's eyes.

Leon's 'managerial-panic' 'evaporated'. It was replaced by 'pure, Apex-joy'.

"He's right," Leon said, a 'wild-grin' spreading across his face. "Walter, your 'plan' was 'brilliant'. It 'saved-us' against the 'wall'. But this… this is our-house."

He turned to the team. Their 'sad-faces' looked up.

"Lads!" Leon clapped his hands. "Forget everything! Forget 'smart'. Forget 'ninjas'. Forget 'around-it'. I want you to go through it."

He looked at Liam Doyle. "Badger. I don't want 'geometry'. I want 'art'. Go… 'make-a-tackle-that-makes-them-cry'."

The 'Badger's' 'soul' 'returned-to-his-body'.

He looked at 'The Mountain'. "Mountain! Stop 'gardening'! Go… be 'big'! 'Stand-in-their-way'!"

He looked at 'The Racehorse'. "Jamie! Stop 'thinking-about-your-feet'! Just 'run'! 'Run-like-a-man-who-is-on-fire'!"

"Lads!" he roared. "Operation: 'Controlled-Avalanche' is 'cancelled'! This… is 'Operation: STUPID-AVALANCHE'! GO! BE 'HEROES'!"

The 'roar' that came back from the team 'shook-the-walls'.

The second half… was 'art'. It was 'beautiful, muddy, chaotic-art'. The 'Badger' made a 'tackle' in the first 30-seconds that 'set-the-tone' (and 'sent-a-winger-flying').

The 'Racehorse' just… 'ran'. He was a 'blur-of-joy-and-panic'.

The 'wall' had 'broken'. The 'avalanche' was 'rolling'.

65th minute. Corner. The ball flew in. 'The Mountain' went up, 'attracting-three-players' (who 'bounced-off-him'). The ball 'scrambled'. It was 'ping-pong'. It popped out… to Dave the baker, who was 'standing-on-the-edge-of-the-box', 'trying-not-to-get-in-the-way'.

He just… 'swung-his-leg'.

The ball 'scuffed'. It 'bobbled'. It 'hit-a-defender's-knee'. It 'wrong-footed-the-keeper'.

It rolled, 'in-agonizing-slow-motion'… over the line.

1-0.

The Apex exploded. Biyon, in his 'cherry-picker', was 'shaking-it-so-hard' the 'builder-below' was 'yelling-at-him'.

80th minute. Blyth, 'desperate', 'pushed-forward'. The 'Badger' 'stole-their-lunch-money' with a 'tackle'. The ball 'flew-forward'.

'The Racehorse' was gone.

He wasn't 'thinking'. He wasn't 'going-around'. He was 'running-straight-at-the-goal'. The keeper came out. Jamie 'smashed-it'… 'straight-past-him'.

2-0.

The final whistle blew. 2-0. Their first home win. Their first 'clean-sheet' (Walter Samuel 'smiled', a 'brief, terrifying-event').

They were on -6 points.

The stadium was a 'party'. Leon was 'mobbed', 'muddy', 'exhausted', and 'happier-than-he-had-ever-been'.

He 'escaped' the 'celebrations', 'heart-pounding', 'voice-gone'. His phone was 'buzzing-off-the-hook'. Julián. Sofia. His 'mum'.

And… Marco.

Leon 'braced-himself' and 'answered'. "Marco? Look, it's a great time, but..."

"LEO! YOU 'BEAUTIFUL-BASTARD'! YOU WON! AT 'HOME'! WITH A 'CLEAN-SHEET'! DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS 'MEANS'?!"

"That we're on… -6 points?"

"NO! I MEAN, 'YES'! BUT 'NO'!" Marco was 'screaming-so-loud' Leon 'held-the-phone-away-from-his-ear'. "THE 'SCOUTS', LEO! THE 'MEDIA'! THEY'RE NOT 'LAUGHING' ANYMORE! THEY'RE 'CONFUSED'! THEY'RE 'INTRIGUED'! THEY'RE ASKING 'WHO-IS-THIS-BAKER'!"

"That's… great, Marco, but..."

"NO-BUTS, LEO! I'VE GOT YOU A 'THING'! A 'BIG-THING'!"

"Marco, what 'thing'? A 'new-player'?"

"BETTER! The FA, Leo! They 'hate-you'! They 'hate' your 'radio-coach'! They 'hate' your 'avalanche'! But the 'public'… the 'media'… they 'LOVE' you! They think you're a 'romantic-story'! A 'beautiful-disaster'! They think you're 'pure-football'!"

"So…?"

"SO! They 'can't-ban-you'… they have to 'EMBRACE-YOU'!" Marco 'shrieked'. "They've… 'invited'… you… to the 'FA-Cup-Draw'!"

"What? The 'local-round'?"

"NO, LEO! THE 'FIRST-ROUND-PROPER'! 'Live-on-the-BBC'! You're the 'lowest-ranked-team-of-all-time'! You're the 'Cinderella-story'! And 'you', Leo… 'you'… are 'pulling-the-balls-out-of-the-hat'!"

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.