Goodison Park was old. It was one of the few stadiums left in the Premier League that felt like a cage. The fans were close enough to touch the players, and today, they were loud.
Michael Sterling stood near the dugout. He pulled his collar up against the wind. It was a cold day in Liverpool, the kind of day where the ball felt like a rock when it hit your foot.
He looked across at the Everton warm up.
There he was.
Finn Riley.
He was wearing the blue of Everton. It looked wrong. It looked like a glitch in the Matrix. Finn was laughing with his new teammates, doing sprints, looking sharp.
"It hurts my eyes Boss," Arthur Milton said, standing next to Michael. Arthur refused to look directly at Finn. "He should be in red. He is a Barnsley boy."
"He is an Everton player now Arthur," Michael said quietly. "We sold him. We used the money to buy Pavard. It was business."
"Business feels like heartburn," Arthur grunted.
