22 days on the estimate, and a long, private, unglamorous year of a rehabilitation nobody watches. Neuchâtel Xamax lose a footballer; he loses considerably more than a season.
Isaac Romero and a teammate said things this week that will take longer than a week to unsay. It was not about football, and both of them play on Saturday.
The clubs have agreed terms, and what remains is formality: a medical, a photograph, a signature. Nobody at Neuchâtel Xamax is pretending he will be back in the shirt.
The deal with Köln is done in every sense but the one that puts him on the pitch. Nothing goes wrong at this stage, except on the occasions when it does.
There is no worse way to lose a footballer. Daryl Tschoumy Nana has pre-agreed a move away, which means every appearance between now and June is made by a man the club can no longer sell, and somebody upstairs will be asked why the contract was allowed to get here.
The oldest argument in any dressing room and the only one that is genuinely about football: one man thinks another is not putting enough in. It is also the row a manager privately does not mind having happened.
Fee agreed, terms agreed, medical booked. Bogdan Buşe will be somebody else’s player by the weekend, and around Neuchâtel Xamax the goodbyes have quietly begun.
The deal with Zurich is done in every sense but the one that puts him on the pitch. Nothing goes wrong at this stage, except on the occasions when it does.
Oliver Skipp was at the centre of it, and by the time it was pulled apart there were three or four others involved. Training grounds are small places and long seasons make them smaller.
Jamie Atangana has left for Basel in a $1.2M deal. The accountants are pleased; the supporters are less certain.
Squad14 Jan 2036
Isaac Romero falls out with a teammate over standards
The oldest argument in any dressing room and the only one that is genuinely about football: one man thinks another is not putting enough in. It is also the row a manager privately does not mind having happened.
$36.0K on the table at Young Boys. The manager wanted him, the board agreed a number, and the only voices still to be heard are the ones at the other club.
“This is not anger. I have thought about it for months, and nothing that has happened lately changed my mind.” The request is on a desk at Neuchâtel Xamax, and it is not being withdrawn.
The oldest argument in any dressing room and the only one that is genuinely about football: one man thinks another is not putting enough in. It is also the row a manager privately does not mind having happened.
“Nobody here is above being told.” It was not said with a name attached, but the dressing room can count, and so can everybody who was listening.
The dugout31 Dec 2035
The manager’s verdict
“That is on me. I pick the team and I picked wrong.” Managers say that when they mean it and when they need to be seen to, and after 0‑1 Interim Coach left the room before anybody could ask which.
There were 89 minutes on the clock and Wil had all but banked the point. Football rarely reads the room, and Neuchâtel Xamax did not stop to explain themselves.
11 without a win is the sort of run that changes how a town talks about its club, and Wil were the afternoon it stopped. Nothing is fixed by one result and everything feels different by one.
“This is not anger. I have thought about it for months, and nothing that has happened lately changed my mind.” The request is on a desk at Neuchâtel Xamax, and it is not being withdrawn.
Oliver Skipp and a teammate said things this week that will take longer than a week to unsay. It was not about football, and both of them play on Saturday.
Squad24 Dec 2035
Isaac Romero falls out with a teammate over standards
The oldest argument in any dressing room and the only one that is genuinely about football: one man thinks another is not putting enough in. It is also the row a manager privately does not mind having happened.
Some games turn on a moment; this one turned on a man. 7.23 on the card, and the Neuchâtel Xamax support went home talking about one name.
The dugout24 Dec 2035
The manager’s verdict
“I am not going to get carried away and I will not let them either. It was a good day. There will be harder ones.” Interim Coach kept it short after the 1‑0 win, which is what managers do when they are happy.
A bad atmosphere can be waited out. A group of people meeting afterwards to decide what to do about it cannot, and everybody in the building knows which stage this is.
Bones knit. That is the one merciful thing about this injury and the reason Neuchâtel Xamax will talk about it more openly than they would about a knee. He will be back, and roughly when they say.
10 without a win now, and the ground has developed the special quiet of a crowd that expects the worst. One scrappy 1-0 would cure most of it; that is the maddening part.
“I have nothing bad to say about this place. I just need to be somewhere else.” It is in writing now, which changes what Neuchâtel Xamax can pretend not to have heard.
Isaac Romero was at the centre of it, and by the time it was pulled apart there were three or four others involved. Training grounds are small places and long seasons make them smaller.
The clubs have agreed terms, and what remains is formality: a medical, a photograph, a signature. Nobody at Neuchâtel Xamax is pretending he will be back in the shirt.
He will play here until the summer and then walk out of the door for free, having already signed elsewhere. Supporters will manage the first part of that sentence; it is the second they will struggle with.
Every long career reaches the week the player starts thinking about the last one. He would like it to be at the club that first put him on a pitch, and Neuchâtel Xamax now know that too.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. David Da Costa is at the centre of it, and the squad will now find out whether the standard rises or the pair of them simply stop speaking.
A bone, which is the one injury with a calendar attached. Neuchâtel Xamax will name a return date and, unusually for this business, will probably be right about it.
9 without a win now, and the ground has developed the special quiet of a crowd that expects the worst. One scrappy 1-0 would cure most of it; that is the maddening part.
“I have ambitions, and I would like the club to share them.” Nobody has asked to leave and nobody has been shown the door — but a player chooses that sentence carefully, and a boardroom hears it exactly as it was meant.
“Things were said to me before I signed. I am not going to repeat them, but I remember all of them.” Neuchâtel Xamax have not answered, which is an answer of sorts.
Oliver Skipp and a teammate went at it, and not about football. Training grounds are small places and a long season makes them smaller.
Squad3 Dec 2035
Isaac Romero falls out with a teammate over standards
The oldest argument in any dressing room and the only one that is genuinely about football: one man thinks another is not putting enough in. It is also the row a manager privately does not mind having happened.
A bone, which is the one injury with a calendar attached. Neuchâtel Xamax will name a return date and, unusually for this business, will probably be right about it.
6 without a win now, and the ground has developed the special quiet of a crowd that expects the worst. One scrappy 1-0 would cure most of it; that is the maddening part.
“Things were said to me before I signed. I am not going to repeat them, but I remember all of them.” Neuchâtel Xamax have not answered, which is an answer of sorts.
The chances are being made and something is happening between the making and the finishing. 5 matches now, and the anxiety in the ground arrives a little earlier every week.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Isaac Romero is at the centre of it, and the squad will now find out whether the standard rises or the pair of them simply stop speaking.
Brutal, unambiguous and, for all the horror of the moment, usually less career-shaped than the ligament everybody fears more. 66 days, a clean timeline, and a return date somebody can actually plan around.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at Neuchâtel Xamax this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Jamie Atangana is at the centre of it, and the squad will now find out whether the standard rises or the pair of them simply stop speaking.
Nothing happens for months and then he simply arrives, at no cost, having signed a pre-contract while still turning out for somebody else. It is the least dramatic way to sign a footballer and frequently the shrewdest.
A 2‑1 win over Stade Lausanne-Ouchy, and the draw for the next round can be watched with some interest for once.
Match22 Aug 2035
Faniel Tewelde wins it after the whistle should have gone
109 minutes played. Faniel Tewelde found the finish in time that only existed because of earlier delays, and Stade Lausanne-Ouchy went from a point to nothing inside one movement.
“I have nothing bad to say about this place. I just need to be somewhere else.” It is in writing now, which changes what Neuchâtel Xamax can pretend not to have heard.
Áki Samuelsen was at the centre of it, and by the time it was pulled apart there were three or four others involved. Training grounds are small places and long seasons make them smaller.
Squad27 Aug 2035
Isaac Romero falls out with a teammate over standards
The oldest argument in any dressing room and the only one that is genuinely about football: one man thinks another is not putting enough in. It is also the row a manager privately does not mind having happened.
“This is not anger. I have thought about it for months, and nothing that has happened lately changed my mind.” The request is on a desk at Neuchâtel Xamax, and it is not being withdrawn.
St. Gallen have accepted the money. What Neuchâtel Xamax do not yet have is the man, and between here and the photograph is a conversation about wages that both sides are dreading.
There is a version of every career where the player ends up somewhere he chose rather than somewhere that chose him. Samuel Gamwo is living that version at Neuchâtel Xamax, and it tends to show in the first month.
6 without a win is the sort of run that changes how a town talks about its club, and Basel were the afternoon it stopped. Nothing is fixed by one result and everything feels different by one.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Max Nilsson is at the centre of it, and the squad will now find out whether the standard rises or the pair of them simply stop speaking.
Ask anyone on the way out what separated the sides and you will get one name: Valdemar Møller. 1‑0 against Basel, and the applause at the whistle was mostly his.
“This is not anger. I have thought about it for months, and nothing that has happened lately changed my mind.” The request is on a desk at Neuchâtel Xamax, and it is not being withdrawn.
Isaac Romero was at the centre of it, and by the time it was pulled apart there were three or four others involved. Training grounds are small places and long seasons make them smaller.
The offer went to Young Boys this week and it is theirs to answer. First bids are rarely meant to succeed; they are meant to find out how loud the door closes.
Every footballer has an answer to the question about his boyhood club, and most of them never get to act on it. Lorenzo Berardi has, at Neuchâtel Xamax, and the first month will show what that does to a man.
Squad18 Jun 2035
Max Nilsson falls out with a teammate over standards
The oldest argument in any dressing room and the only one that is genuinely about football: one man thinks another is not putting enough in. It is also the row a manager privately does not mind having happened.
“I have tried. I have really tried, and every day I wake up in the wrong place.” Nobody at Neuchâtel Xamax can coach that out of a man, and nobody there is pretending to.
“Thirty minutes, door closed, everything said. We shook hands after.” Whatever was in the room stayed in the room, and Oliver Skipp trained the next morning like a man with less to carry.
“We keep meeting, and we keep leaving the room with the same numbers we walked in with.” Another round of talks at Neuchâtel Xamax, another week without a signature from Valmir Matoshi.
“I have nothing bad to say about this place. I just need to be somewhere else.” It is in writing now, which changes what Neuchâtel Xamax can pretend not to have heard.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at Neuchâtel Xamax this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
The oldest argument in any dressing room and the only one that is genuinely about football: one man thinks another is not putting enough in. It is also the row a manager privately does not mind having happened.
It is sentimental, it is completely genuine, and it is the beginning of a departure nobody has announced. The club can be gracious about it or it can pretend not to have heard.
“It had gone on long enough. I would rather have it out than leave it sitting there.” Ten minutes behind a closed door at Neuchâtel Xamax, and both men came out saying it was fine.
“We keep meeting, and we keep leaving the room with the same numbers we walked in with.” Another round of talks at Neuchâtel Xamax, another week without a signature from Íñigo Arguibide.
Numbers do not stay secret in a dressing room and never have. He is not asking for more than he is worth; he is asking why somebody beside him is worth more, and at Neuchâtel Xamax that is a harder question to answer.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at Neuchâtel Xamax this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
Somebody said out loud what several people thought about how hard another man trains, and Simon Okafor was in the middle of it. The one dressing-room argument that is genuinely about football.
It happens to all of them and it is still the hardest paragraph a local paper has to write. 34 years old, 3 points down on where he was, and a body that has started charging interest on a career.
“I have given this everything, but my family is not here and neither am I, not really.” A footballer can be coached out of bad form. Nobody has ever been coached out of this, and Neuchâtel Xamax know it.
In brief
The dugoutOliver Skipp asks for a word with the manager
Position 11 and 13 points, and the table gets read bottom-up in this part of town. The calendar has stopped being a schedule and started being a countdown.
“This is not anger. I have thought about it for months, and nothing that has happened lately changed my mind.” The request is on a desk at Neuchâtel Xamax, and it is not being withdrawn.
“I have tried. I have really tried, and every day I wake up in the wrong place.” Nobody at Neuchâtel Xamax can coach that out of a man, and nobody there is pretending to.
It is sentimental, it is completely genuine, and it is the beginning of a departure nobody has announced. The club can be gracious about it or it can pretend not to have heard.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Josué Reinatti is at the centre of it, and the squad will now find out whether the standard rises or the pair of them simply stop speaking.
Leandro Dias and a teammate said things this week that will take longer than a week to unsay. It was not about football, and both of them play on Saturday.
“It had gone on long enough. I would rather have it out than leave it sitting there.” Ten minutes behind a closed door at Neuchâtel Xamax, and both men came out saying it was fine.
“We keep meeting, and we keep leaving the room with the same numbers we walked in with.” Another round of talks at Neuchâtel Xamax, another week without a signature from Vegard Solheim.
“I have nothing bad to say about this place. I just need to be somewhere else.” It is in writing now, which changes what Neuchâtel Xamax can pretend not to have heard.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at Neuchâtel Xamax this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
Somebody said out loud what several people thought about how hard another man trains, and Josué Reinatti was in the middle of it. The one dressing-room argument that is genuinely about football.
“We keep meeting, and we keep leaving the room with the same numbers we walked in with.” Another round of talks at Neuchâtel Xamax, another week without a signature from Josué Reinatti.
4 call-ups is a compliment to the squad and a headache for the man running it. He will get them back in a fortnight, tired, in various states of repair.
“It had gone on long enough. I would rather have it out than leave it sitting there.” Ten minutes behind a closed door at Neuchâtel Xamax, and both men came out saying it was fine.
3 months left, and both sides know what that means: every week without a signature, the fee Neuchâtel Xamax could ask drops and the wages Malik Deme can ask rise.
Terms are settled between the clubs and the rest is paperwork and a photograph. Around Neuchâtel Xamax they have already started talking about him in the past tense.
“This is not anger. I have thought about it for months, and nothing that has happened lately changed my mind.” The request is on a desk at Neuchâtel Xamax, and it is not being withdrawn.
Squad12 Mar 2035
Simon Okafor falls out with a teammate over standards
The oldest argument in any dressing room and the only one that is genuinely about football: one man thinks another is not putting enough in. It is also the row a manager privately does not mind having happened.
Jamie Atangana was at the centre of it, and by the time it was pulled apart there were three or four others involved. Training grounds are small places and long seasons make them smaller.
“We keep meeting, and we keep leaving the room with the same numbers we walked in with.” Another round of talks at Neuchâtel Xamax, another week without a signature from Bilal Bayazıt.
Squad12 Mar 2035
7 new faces, and Neuchâtel Xamax are still learning each other
A squad rebuilt inside one window pays for it in a currency nobody budgets for. The football is not worse than the sum of the players; it is worse than the sum of the players who have played together before.
“It had gone on long enough. I would rather have it out than leave it sitting there.” Ten minutes behind a closed door at Neuchâtel Xamax, and both men came out saying it was fine.
He trains hard, says the right things and goes home to an empty flat. Nobody at Neuchâtel Xamax has done anything wrong, which is exactly what makes it so difficult to fix.
In brief
MarketThe clock does Tomáš Nemčík’s negotiating for him
Fee agreed, terms agreed, medical booked. Radek Ondroušek will be somebody else’s player by the weekend, and around Neuchâtel Xamax the goodbyes have quietly begun.
Luke Fahrenhorst was at the centre of it, and by the time it was pulled apart there were three or four others involved. Training grounds are small places and long seasons make them smaller.
Somebody said out loud what several people thought about how hard another man trains, and Josué Reinatti was in the middle of it. The one dressing-room argument that is genuinely about football.
“I have given this everything, but my family is not here and neither am I, not really.” A footballer can be coached out of bad form. Nobody has ever been coached out of this, and Neuchâtel Xamax know it.
“Thirty minutes, door closed, everything said. We shook hands after.” Whatever was in the room stayed in the room, and Tomáš Nemčík trained the next morning like a man with less to carry.
In brief
MarketThe clock does Malik Deme’s negotiating for him
Terms are settled between the clubs and the rest is paperwork and a photograph. Around Neuchâtel Xamax they have already started talking about him in the past tense.
Somebody said out loud what several people thought about how hard another man trains, and Simon Okafor was in the middle of it. The one dressing-room argument that is genuinely about football.
The clubs have agreed terms, and what remains is formality: a medical, a photograph, a signature. Nobody at Neuchâtel Xamax is pretending he will be back in the shirt.
Luke Fahrenhorst and a teammate said things this week that will take longer than a week to unsay. It was not about football, and both of them play on Saturday.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Simon Okafor is at the centre of it, and the squad will now find out whether the standard rises or the pair of them simply stop speaking.
“I have tried. I have really tried, and every day I wake up in the wrong place.” Nobody at Neuchâtel Xamax can coach that out of a man, and nobody there is pretending to.
Two goals and a mark of 8.22 to go with them. Strikers are judged on afternoons like this one and remembered for far fewer of them than people imagine.
Terms are settled between the clubs and the rest is paperwork and a photograph. Around Neuchâtel Xamax they have already started talking about him in the past tense.
7 without a win is the sort of run that changes how a town talks about its club, and Luzern were the afternoon it stopped. Nothing is fixed by one result and everything feels different by one.
One scored and one made, which is a different afternoon from scoring twice and an easier one to overlook. Marked 7.94, and involved in 2 of his side's goals.
Squad4 Dec 2034
Simon Okafor falls out with a teammate over standards
The oldest argument in any dressing room and the only one that is genuinely about football: one man thinks another is not putting enough in. It is also the row a manager privately does not mind having happened.
It is the most legitimate ambition in the sport and the hardest for most clubs to satisfy. Máximo Paredes wants continental football; whether Neuchâtel Xamax can provide it is a question about the next two seasons, not about him.
Successful dribbles: 16. He went past people as if he had been told there was a prize for it, and by the end the full-back had stopped pretending to try.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at Neuchâtel Xamax this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
A bone, which is the one injury with a calendar attached. Neuchâtel Xamax will name a return date and, unusually for this business, will probably be right about it.
Some afternoons a goalkeeper is the team. 6 saves, several of them the sort nobody expects to see stopped, and a scoreline that flatters everybody in front of him.
Fee agreed, terms agreed, medical booked. Sambou Camara will be somebody else’s player by the weekend, and around Neuchâtel Xamax the goodbyes have quietly begun.
He will play here until the summer and then walk out of the door for free, having already signed elsewhere. Supporters will manage the first part of that sentence; it is the second they will struggle with.
He left as a boy and has come back still knowing where the away end is. Most signings have to be explained to a town; this one needed a photograph and nothing else.
The general version of this complaint is that a player wants more. The specific version names the thing: he wants to walk out under floodlights against clubs from other countries, and he has stopped pretending otherwise.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Jamie Atangana is at the centre of it, and the squad will now find out whether the standard rises or the pair of them simply stop speaking.
Tim Arnold was at the centre of it, and by the time it was pulled apart there were three or four others involved. Training grounds are small places and long seasons make them smaller.
Position 9, 9 points, and every result so far reduced to one line. The second half of the season starts with the same squad and a different set of expectations.