The silence sharpened.
"17 years," he said. "17 years without a trophy."
He looked around the room, making sure every player felt it.
"When do you think it happens… if not now?"
No one answered.
They didn't need to.
"We need a goal," he continued. "And we will get it—but only if we are sharper."
He pointed toward Johnson.
"Be more direct."
Toward Solanke.
"Move quicker. Anticipate."
His hand cut through the air again.
"The ball has to move faster. You are giving them time to settle, time to organize."
Then his voice dropped slightly.
"And listen—don't give them another one."
That part was firm.
Serious.
"Do not let them go two up."
He held the moment.
"If it stays one-nil into the 80th… 85th minute…"
He tapped his chest.
"…we are still alive."
His voice rose again.
"But only if you stay in the game."
He stepped back slightly, taking one last look at his team.
"This is the night," he said.
"The night you change that history."
A pause.
Then quieter—
