The calendar on the wall of Michael Sterling office said May.
Three weeks had passed since the speech on television. T
The speech had worked. The team had gone into Berserk Mode. They had destroyed Brighton 3 to 0. They had beaten Arsenal 2 to 1 in a war at the Emirates. They had crushed Crystal Palace 4 to 0.
Michael sat at his desk. He looked tired. But it was a good tired. The kind of tired you feel after climbing a mountain and seeing the peak just a few meters away.
Arthur Milton was sitting on the floor. He was surrounded by paper sheets. He looked like a man drowning in statistics.
"Read it to me again Arthur," Michael said. "I like the sound of the numbers."
Arthur picked up a sheet. He smiled.
"Premier League Table," Arthur announced. "With one game left to play."
1. Manchester City. 86 Points.
2. Barnsley. 84 Points.
"Two points," Michael whispered. "We took it to the final day. If City lose or draw and we win then we are Champions."
