115 days on the estimate, and a long, private, unglamorous year of a rehabilitation nobody watches. Guria lose a footballer; he loses considerably more than a season.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at Guria this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Data Sichinava 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.
The words a physio says slowly. 122 days is what the club will announce and everybody who has heard this diagnosis before knows the number is the least of it: the knee comes back before the player does.
“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 The request is on a desk at Guria, and it is not being withdrawn.
Tsotne Chotalishvili 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 had been thinking. Data Sichinava 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.
136 days on the estimate, and a long, private, unglamorous year of a rehabilitation nobody watches. Guria lose a footballer; he loses considerably more than a season.
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.
Nothing in writing and nothing in public: a word about playing time, given face to face at Guria. The team sheets over the next month will show whether it was worth having.
3 months left, and both sides know what that means: every week without a signature, the fee Guria could ask drops and the wages Goga Okriashvili can ask rise.
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 had gone on long enough. I would rather have it out than leave it sitting there.” Ten minutes behind a closed door at Guria, and both men came out saying it was fine.
The hardest thing about being 14 in a senior side is that nobody makes allowances. Dato Kakabadze did not need any: 7.82, and he looked the most comfortable man on the pitch.
At 14 he is being sung about by people twice his age, which is an affection a signing has to earn over years and a local kid gets for turning up. It is also the hardest thing in football to live up to.
Marked 8.33. Players have careers without a single afternoon like this in them, and he has just had one in front of everybody at Guria.
The dugout18 Sep 2028
The view from the dugout
“We controlled it. There were spells I did not like and we will look at them, but the group showed me something.” Tornike Ananidze, on a 2‑0 win that he was already picking apart on the walk to the press room.
The last thing about a transfer that is still about the player is his signature on his own terms, and it is there. Guria have lost him in all but the paperwork.
10 without a win is the sort of run that changes how a town talks about its club, and Shukura were the afternoon it stopped. Nothing is fixed by one result and everything feels different by one.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at Guria this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
“We earned that. I asked them for a reaction and I got one, and now I want the same again on Saturday.” Tornike Ananidze on a 1‑0 afternoon that pleased him more than he was prepared to show.
The clubs have settled the fee and he has settled his wages. What remains is a medical and a photograph, and around Guria people have started saying his name in the past tense.
6 games without scoring. Strikers stop looking up, midfielders take the extra touch, and every shot that clears the bar is followed by a groan that has been building since the last goal.
Fee agreed, terms agreed, medical booked. Davit Chankotadze will be somebody else’s player by the weekend, and around Guria the goodbyes have quietly begun.
“The supporters are entitled to be angry. So am I. We will put it right.” 0‑1, a manager saying the necessary things, and a dressing room that heard a different version of them.
Kakha Kiteishvili 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.
5 games without scoring. Strikers stop looking up, midfielders take the extra touch, and every shot that clears the bar is followed by a groan that has been building since the last goal.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at Guria this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
“There are things I liked and things we will be doing on Tuesday until they are right.” 0‑0, and a manager who had already decided what Tuesday looked like.
Somebody said out loud what several people thought about how hard another man trains, and Sandro Bakhia 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 Guria is pretending he will be back in the shirt.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at Guria this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
7.44, and no serious argument from anybody who was there. Guria had eleven men on the pitch and one of them decided how it went.
The dugout26 Jun 2028
The manager’s verdict
“I am frustrated, honestly. We did enough to win and we did not win.” Tornike Ananidze was not hiding it after 0‑0, and nobody in the Guria dressing room was either.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Sandro Bakhia 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.
The crowd waited for a goal that never came. Lokomotivi defended in numbers and left with what they came for, and the two sides could be playing still without troubling a scorer.
A mark of 7.91 means one thing beside a twenty-nine-year-old's name and something else entirely beside a 19-year-old's. Nobody at the ground needed telling which this was.
“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 Guria, and it is not being withdrawn.
Fee agreed, terms agreed, medical booked. Rezo Lomidze will be somebody else’s player by the weekend, and around Guria the goodbyes have quietly begun.
He is 19 and the ground already sings his name, which is a thing that happens to local boys and almost never to signings. Everything from here is measured against an affection he did nothing to earn except be from here.
“The manager did not use many words, and he did not need to.” Data Sichinava has his answer from Guria; what he does with it is the next window’s story.
Somebody said out loud what several people thought about how hard another man trains, and Ivane Okropiridze was in the middle of it. The one dressing-room argument that is genuinely about football.
Four or five weekends of consistency, judged against everybody in the division doing his job. Lekso Otinashvili has come out of that comparison in the side, and Guria have had the benefit of every one of those afternoons.
The hardest thing about being 19 in a senior side is that nobody makes allowances. Lekso Otinashvili did not need any: 7.63, and he looked the most comfortable man on the pitch.
Terms are settled between the clubs and the rest is paperwork and a photograph. Around Guria they have already started talking about him in the past tense.
8 without defeat on their own grass. The pitch has not changed; the crowd has — louder earlier, and quicker to sense when the opposition would rather be somewhere else.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Ivane Okropiridze 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.
Davit Chankotadze 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.
“There are things I liked and things we will be doing on Tuesday until they are right.” 1‑1, and a manager who had already decided what Tuesday looked like.
“Thirty minutes, door closed, everything said. We shook hands after.” Whatever was in the room stayed in the room, and Gegi Geguchadze trained the next morning like a man with less to carry.
Fee agreed, terms agreed, medical booked. Davit Chankotadze will be somebody else’s player by the weekend, and around Guria the goodbyes have quietly begun.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at Guria 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.
The dugout3 Apr 2028
The view from the dugout
“We will look at it, we will learn from it, and we go again.” The three sentences every manager keeps for a 0‑1 defeat, delivered by Tornike Ananidze to a room that had heard them 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 Guria, and both men came out saying it was fine.
“I was told straight, and I would rather have it straight.” The manager at Guria has been clear about where Nika Kakabadze stands, which is more than many ever get.
The clubs have agreed terms, and what remains is formality: a medical, a photograph, a signature. Nobody at Guria is pretending he will be back in the shirt.
Ask anyone on the way out what separated the sides and you will get one name: Tornike Kapanadze. 1‑0 against Lokomotivi, and the applause at the whistle was mostly his.
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.
“We earned that. I asked them for a reaction and I got one, and now I want the same again on Saturday.” Tornike Ananidze on a 1‑0 afternoon that pleased him more than he was prepared to show.
He used to wear the other shirt. On Saturday he plays against Tskhinvali in this one, and whatever he says this week about it being just another game will be untrue.