Juninho D'Alessandro leaned over his desk, eyes fixed on the short list of transfer targets in front of him.
The strategy was simple in concept, but difficult in execution — build a solid spine around a few future superstars still hidden in the shadows of the football world.
From there, supplement with strong, affordable players to build a squad capable of promotion.
Step by step, he reminded himself. You can't build a Champions League-winning side overnight.
"With Zlatan as the spearhead up front," Juninho muttered, tapping his pen against the desk, "next priority is the midfield and defense."
Most of the players he was considering were born around 1980 — that sweet spot where they were still young but old enough to play first-team football.
More importantly, many of them hadn't yet caught the eye of Europe's biggest clubs.
These were players still fighting for recognition — raw but hungry.
Given the right pitch, and Morecambe's promise of European exposure and personalized development, some of them might just say yes.
Suddenly, a name flashed in Juninho's mind.
Ronaldinho.
The Brazilian wizard. A future Ballon d'Or winner. The most joyful footballer to ever grace the pitch.
His dribbling was magic. His smile was infectious. And his influence? Massive.
From Messi to Neymar, Ronaldinho inspired a generation.
But in 2000, he was still in Brazil, still dreaming of Europe, and still affordable — if you moved fast enough.
Juninho didn't hesitate. He jotted down the third name on his list:
Ronaldinho (Midfield Magician)
That left the backline.
One name immediately stood out.
Nemanja Vidić.
At first glance, he wasn't as well-known in 2000. Just a tall, rugged defender playing in Red Star Belgrade's youth setup.
But Juninho knew what was coming.
Vidić would eventually become the bedrock of Manchester United's defense, partnering with Rio Ferdinand to form one of the most feared center-back pairings in football history.
And in 2000, he was still gettable.
"Vidić," Juninho said aloud, writing it on the list with a firm stroke.
Nemanja Vidić (Defensive Anchor)
He paused, looking over the four names:
1. Leo Messi — long-term project
2. Zlatan Ibrahimović — immediate starting striker
3. Ronaldinho — midfield flair and vision
4. Nemanja Vidić — defensive steel
There were other names he considered, but these four were realistic targets who could become the core of Morecambe's rise.
No need to rush a fifth. The rest of the squad could be filled with experienced veterans from League Two or League One — reliable, low-cost professionals.
In fact, Juninho preferred it that way.
Even if these future superstars had insane potential, they were still raw.
What they needed now was stability — mentors on the pitch who could guide them, balance them, and allow them to develop without burning out.
The player scouting was done — at least for now.
Next came the true battleground:
Money.
Football wasn't just a beautiful game — it was also a bottomless financial pit.
Even in 2000, before the era of oil barons and mega-takeovers, running a club required deep pockets. Especially when it came to player acquisitions.
In Juninho's memory, his family's business empire was moderately successful back home in Brazil, with total assets worth several hundred million.
But that didn't mean he had access to unlimited funds.
After buying Morecambe, he had about five million euros left to spend.
It was a generous gift from the family, who assumed he was just playing fantasy football in real life. A five-million-euro ticket to keep him out of trouble.
"That's enough to buy some decent hidden gems," Juninho said to himself, "but not enough to land all four of these guys."
Especially not if he wanted to cover Messi's treatment or lure Ronaldinho from Brazil.
He needed more cash.
Much more.
Fortunately, Juninho had another ace up his sleeve — one far riskier than the system or his future knowledge.
Betting.
As someone from 2021, he knew exactly which matches had surprising results — the kind of "upsets" that bookmakers would give crazy odds on.
If he could carefully bet on a few of those high-odds games, he could snowball that five million into twenty, thirty — maybe even more.
The trick was to not get greedy.
If he kept winning too often, too quickly, the betting companies would get suspicious. He'd heard of people being banned — even targeted — for messing with the odds too accurately.
And the butterfly effect? It could be catastrophic.
"You only do this a few times," Juninho reminded himself. "Just enough to boost the war chest. Then stop."
He grabbed the day's newspaper and checked the sports section for upcoming fixtures.
The sooner he made money, the sooner he could start signing his future legends.
Time was ticking.
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