My heart was pounding, a wild, triumphant drumbeat in my chest. This was it. This was the moment. I took a deep breath and began to talk. I told him about the "Island of Misfit Toys." I told him about Jesús Navas, the experienced, homesick leader we could get for free.
I told him about Bojan Krkić, the forgotten genius we could steal from Stoke for a pittance. I told him about Alexandre Pato, the Brazilian firecracker who was wasting away in La Liga, a world-class talent who just needed a manager to believe in him again. And then, I told him about the pivot. I told him about Rúben Neves.
As I spoke, I could see the chairman's eyes light up. He wasn't just listening; he was seeing it. He was seeing the team I was building, the philosophy I was creating. He was seeing the future.
In the middle of my passionate, detailed pitch, my phone, which was sitting on the chairman's desk, buzzed. An email. I glanced at the screen. The sender was UEFA.
