EXCLUSIVE: Inside the Meeting that Broke the Super League
Everyone has a breaking point. Especially these guys.
Florentino Perez and Andrea Agnelli trudge along a deserted beach, picturesque waves crashing in the background and glittering white sand running up to dense tropical brush. But the two men look far from vacation-ready. Their suits and shirts are torn, and dirty. Perez keeps trying to use his glasses, but the lens on one side is completely shattered. Both men’s shoes have long been abandoned.
“Where is everyone?” Perez breathes heavily, the anger in his voice not able to hide the ragged edge of his own weariness. Agnelli points ahead, where a large plume of smoke billows on the beach. As the two men approach, they see that Roman Abramovich has taken off his shirt, torn his pants into shorts, and covered his chest and face with mud. Some City Football Group members remain clothed, but stare at Perez and Agnelli as they approach. John Henry and Dan Levy appear to have their shirts unbuttoned, but keep looking back and forth between Abramovich and Perez. Stan Kroenke is lying down with sunglasses on. No one seems sure if he’s asleep or unconcious. The Glazers, as per usual, are nowhere to be found. Abramovich howls at the sky as Perez and Agnelli approach, bewildered.
“What is… WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Perez yells at Abramovich, trying to yell over his screams.
“I AM SUMMONING THE SPIRITS OF THE PREMIER LEAGUE,” Abramovich replies as he continues to rend his voice in two. One of the City Football group members steps forward.
“We’re leaving the Super League, Florentino. It’s over.” In the background, Henry and Levy quickly remove their shirts the rest of the way and start rubbing wet sand on their torsos.
“Leaving? You can’t leave. You signed a contract,” Perez scoffs. Henry and Levy pause, then start putting their shirts back on.
“You think we didn’t account for this? You really want to try us in court?” The City members chuckle amongst themselves. Perez and Agnelli shift uncomfortably.
“MY LAWYERS COULD BEAT GOD,” Abramovich adds. Henry and Levy ditch their shirts again, looking for more dirt and sand to smear on their faces.
“But we can do this, we just need to hold together!” Agnelli pleads with the men around the billowing fire. “Atletico and Barcelona don’t have a choice, and the Italian clubs will hold with me. As long as we just stick this out through the outrage-”
“IT’S TOO LATE! THE GLAZERS LEFT AND I ALREADY SACRIFICED WOODWARD!” Abramovich laughs as he begins to dance around the fire to some techno beat lodged deep within his brain.
“The Glazers… Woodward… you what?!” Perez splutters. Agnelli looks over and realizes that Kroenke, despite not moving from the same spot he’s been lying this entire time, is now shirtless and covered in mud. His sunglasses remain in place.
“The Glazers had a satellite phone and called a helicopter,” the City members explain. “But they pushed Woodward out when he tried to get in. Our helicopter is on the way as well. You mean to tell me you don’t have one of these things?” He holds up his own sat phone.
“I mean… I did have one, at one point. But it was reposs- you know what, that’s fine, we don’t have to be unpleasant about it, maybe you could just call a helicopter in for us as well?” Perez laughs nervously.
“We’ll leave that up to Roman,” the City members walk away. Levy and Henry have begun trying to imitate Abramovich’s dances in the background. Kroenke has maintained exactly the same pose but somehow has moved five feet closer to Agnelli and Perez since the last time they looked at him. Perez and Agnelli begin to slowly back away. Abramovich looks at them, his lower body still pulsing to some silent beat.
“NOW WE WILL DISCOVER WHO IS THE REAL MAN OF THE SUPER LEAGUE, YES?”
Agnelli and Perez turn and begin to run. They both trip and fall over the prone body of Kroenke, who somehow got behind them. Abramovich pounces.
Far away from that spot on the beach, Joan Laporta is stringing together shells into necklaces to give to Lionel Messi as a peace offering. He hears a cry of distress in the distance, but he pays it no mind.
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Rumor has it Perez is still out on the beach trying to start a fire so that he can do S.O.S signals.
So good.