In This Life I Became a Coach

Chapter 71: Athens Under Control

The Olympic Stadium erupted with fervent energy as the teams emerged from the tunnel. Flags waved, drums pounded, and chants cascaded down from the steep stands like auditory avalanches. The Athens supporters had created the wall of sound Demien had anticipated—hostile, unrelenting, and designed to intimidate.

His players remained unfazed. They moved through their pre-match routines with practiced calm—handshakes, coin toss, final positional reminders. No wide eyes, no nervous glances toward the most vocal sections of the crowd. Just the focused determination that had been cultivated through meticulous preparation.

In goal was Roma, with Evra, Squillaci, Rodriguez, and Ibarra forming the backline. Alonso played as the deep playmaker, flanked by Bernardi and D’Alessandro. Rothen and Giuly occupied the wings, while Morientes led the attack.

Athens matched their expected shape—Chiotis in goal; Borbokis, Kapsis, Amponsah, and Kasapis in defense; Zagorakis, Katsouranis, and Petkov in midfield; Lakis and Rusev providing width; as Liberopoulos the focal point in their attack.

The opening minutes unfolded exactly as Demien had predicted during the tactical briefing. Athens sat deep, compact, patient—content to surrender possession while denying space in dangerous areas. Their disciplined defensive block, anchored by the experienced Kapsis, made the central channel nearly impenetrable.

Monaco circulated the ball with purpose—not rushing or forcing plays, but probing for weaknesses. Alonso orchestrated from deep, always available and never hurried. D’Alessandro and Bernardi moved intelligently between Athens’ rigid lines, creating angles that weren’t immediately obvious.

In the twelfth minute, the home team launched their first counterattack—Zagorakis intercepting Rothen’s pass and quickly releasing Lakis down the right. The winger’s cross found Liberopoulos, whose glancing header forced Roma into a diving save. The crowd erupted, sensing a shift in momentum.

Demien remained still on the touchline. No reaction, no adjustment—the moment was anticipated, and the response was already planned.

Monaco resumed their methodical approach. Possession without penetration wasn’t the goal; it was merely a tool to disorganize Athens’ shape. Patience was key, drawing the opponent into small, almost imperceptible mistakes that would eventually create the opportunities they sought.

In the twenty-third minute, the first breakthrough nearly came—D’Alessandro found a pocket of space between Zagorakis and Katsouranis, turning quickly, and threaded a pass that Morientes couldn’t quite reach before Chiotis claimed it. Not a chance, but a warning.

The first half continued in this pattern—Monaco controlling the game, Athens resisting, with occasional counter creating moments of danger that were efficiently neutralized. The home supporters grew restless, their initial energy giving way to nervous tension as their team struggled to maintain possession for meaningful periods.

At halftime, with the score still 0-0, Demien gathered the team in the cramped away dressing room. There were no dramatic changes or emotional appeals—just precise adjustments to exploit the patterns that had emerged.

"They’re dropping Katsouranis deeper to mark D’Alessandro," he noted. "That creates space for Rothen to move inside. When he does, Kasapis follows. That’s the channel we need to attack."

The tactical instructions continued—specific movements, adjusted pressing triggers, and set-piece refinements. Every player understood their role within the collective strategy, and each adjustment served the larger game plan.

The second half began with renewed purpose from Monaco. The tempo quickened—not rushed, but more vertical and direct. Alonso found D’Alessandro more frequently, with the Argentine’s movement consistently creating numerical advantages in the areas Athens sought to protect.

In the fifty-fourth minute, the plan bore fruit. Rothen drifted inside as instructed, drawing Kasapis with him. Evra immediately exploited the vacated space, overlapping with perfect timing. D’Alessandro spotted the run and delivered a perfectly weighted pass into the left-back’s path.

Evra’s cross—low, driven, and precise—found Morientes at the near post. The striker’s movement was so subtle that Kapsis never saw it coming. With one instinctive and clinical touch, the ball was in the net.

0-1.

The Monaco bench rose as one, but the celebration was measured. There was no relief or surprise—just a shared acknowledgment that execution had aligned with their design.

Athens responded by pushing higher, committing more players forward, which played directly into Monaco’s hands. Spaces opened up that hadn’t existed in the first half, allowing D’Alessandro and Alonso to exploit them with surgical precision.

The second goal, when it came in the sixty-eighth minute, was a masterpiece by D’Alessandro. It began with Alonso, as so many good things did, winning possession deep in Monaco’s half and immediately transitioning the play forward. The ball flowed through Bernardi to Giuly, and then back to D’Alessandro in one fluid sequence.

The Argentine found himself in space, twenty-five yards from goal. Amponsah rushed to close him down, but D’Alessandro’s first touch glided him past the defender with effortless grace. His second touch drew Kapsis out of position, and his third completely eliminated Petkov from the equation.

The finish was delicate—not powerful, but placed with a precision that rendered Chiotis’s dive merely ceremonial.

0-2.

This time, D’Alessandro allowed himself a moment of celebration, arms spread wide as his teammates enveloped him. It wasn’t just the goal; it was the artistry of it—a stunning display of individual brilliance within a cohesive team effort.

Bajevic made changes, bringing on attacking players and abandoning the disciplined shape that had at least kept Athens in the contest. It was desperation, not strategy, and Demien recognized it.

"They’ll lose their structure now," he told Michel. "We control the spaces and the counter."

Monaco adjusted accordingly, maintaining defensive solidity without sacrificing their principles. Adebayor replaced a tiring Morientes, his fresh legs providing an outlet against Athens’ increasingly direct approach.

Liberopoulos should have pulled one back in the eightieth minute, heading wide from eight yards when it seemed easier to score. The home crowd’s groan echoed above the constant noise, a collective acknowledgment that their team’s best chance had slipped away.

When the final whistle blew, the scoreboard confirmed what had been clear for some time: AEK Athens 0, Monaco 2.

Six points from two Champions League matches. Top of the group. Momentum building with each performance.

In the away dressing room, the celebration was composed—satisfaction rather than exuberance. Players exchanged weary high-fives, the physical and mental exertion evident in their movements, but the sense of accomplishment was unmistakable.

D’Alessandro received the most attention, his teammates acknowledging his decisive contribution. The Argentine accepted the praise with humility, deflecting compliments back to the collective effort.

Demien moved through the room, exchanging brief words with each player. No grand speeches, no excessive praise—just specific observations and personal acknowledgments, the kind of targeted feedback that fosters continuous improvement.

The journey back to the hotel was quiet, players processing the match in their own ways. Some reviewed key moments on tablets, others mentally decompressed, while a few immediately began focusing on the next challenge. Different approaches, united by the same professional dedication.

In his hotel room later that night, Demien sat alone, a tactical board open before him, the images from the match still vivid in his mind. Two Champions League matches, two victories, six points, six goals scored, and zero conceded—a start that exceeded even his ambitious expectations.

But it was more than just the numbers. It was the quality of the performances—the control, the understanding, the execution of complex tactical ideas. This team was evolving faster than the one he remembered from the original timeline, absorbing his approach with an intelligence that often surprised him.

In that timeline, the Athens match had been different—a narrow escape, momentum nearly lost, and growing doubts about Monaco’s European credentials. But this performance, this result, marked a significant departure. Another thread pulled, another ripple expanding.

Demien closed the tactical board and moved to the window, gazing out at the Athens skyline, lights twinkling against the night sky. The patterns were shifting. The future was reshaping itself with each decision, each instruction, each victory.

Just two matches into their Champions League campaign, Monaco was already announcing themselves as something different—something special, something that hadn’t existed in the timeline he had left behind. _{𝘯𝑜𝑣𝑝𝑢𝘣.𝑐𝑜𝑚}

With each passing match, the divergence grew—the new reality establishing itself with increasing authority, while the original path faded like a dream upon waking.

Demien turned away from the window. There was little time for philosophical musings. Analysis awaited, recovery protocols needed finalizing, and the next opponent required his attention.

The journey continued, one match at a time, and the timeline bent further with each step forward.