52 days on the estimate, and a long, private, unglamorous year of a rehabilitation nobody watches. PAOK lose a footballer; he loses considerably more than a season.
Brutal, unambiguous and, for all the horror of the moment, usually less career-shaped than the ligament everybody fears more. 74 days, a clean timeline, and a return date somebody can actually plan around.
“I have nothing bad to say about this place. I just need to be somewhere else.” It is in writing now, which changes what PAOK 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 PAOK this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
61 days on the estimate, and a long, private, unglamorous year of a rehabilitation nobody watches. PAOK lose a footballer; he loses considerably more than a season.
Brutal, unambiguous and, for all the horror of the moment, usually less career-shaped than the ligament everybody fears more. 81 days, a clean timeline, and a return date somebody can actually plan around.
Christos Zafeiris 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.
Terms are settled between the clubs and the rest is paperwork and a photograph. Around PAOK they have already started talking about him in the past tense.
Squad21 Jun 2038
Merlin Röhl 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.
The words a physio says slowly. 71 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.
Brutal, unambiguous and, for all the horror of the moment, usually less career-shaped than the ligament everybody fears more. 88 days, a clean timeline, and a return date somebody can actually plan around.
Terms are settled between the clubs and the rest is paperwork and a photograph. Around PAOK they have already started talking about him in the past tense.
“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.
The words a physio says slowly. 78 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.
Brutal, unambiguous and, for all the horror of the moment, usually less career-shaped than the ligament everybody fears more. 97 days, a clean timeline, and a return date somebody can actually plan around.
“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 PAOK, and it is not being withdrawn.
283 appearances across 11 seasons in one shirt. Nobody builds a career like that on purpose any more; it happens to a certain kind of footballer at a certain kind of club.
“I want to be playing for trophies while my legs still let me.” Nothing in that sentence is a transfer request, and nobody at PAOK heard it as anything else.
Brutal, unambiguous and, for all the horror of the moment, usually less career-shaped than the ligament everybody fears more. 104 days, a clean timeline, and a return date somebody can actually plan around.
The words a physio says slowly. 87 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.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at PAOK this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
Terms are settled between the clubs and the rest is paperwork and a photograph. Around PAOK they have already started talking about him in the past tense.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Merlin Röhl 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.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Christos Zafeiris 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.
Santiago Silva 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.
It is never announced and it is entirely visible: the biggest afternoons of the season keep containing him. A press box works this out long before anybody at the club confirms a word of it.
Dušan Vuković is 35 and has run out of things to prove. What he has left is where to stand, when to slow it down and what to say at half-time, and none of that is on a fitness chart.
The words a physio says slowly. 99 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.
Joakim Mæhle 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 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.
107 days on the estimate, and a long, private, unglamorous year of a rehabilitation nobody watches. PAOK lose a footballer; he loses considerably more than a season.
Christos Zafeiris 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 words a physio says slowly. 115 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.
Terms are settled between the clubs and the rest is paperwork and a photograph. Around PAOK they have already started talking about him in the past tense.
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.
“Things were said to me before I signed. I am not going to repeat them, but I remember all of them.” PAOK have not answered, which is an answer of sorts.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at PAOK this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
In brief
SquadWords at PAOK training over how hard people work
The words a physio says slowly. 129 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.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at PAOK this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
137 days on the estimate, and a long, private, unglamorous year of a rehabilitation nobody watches. PAOK lose a footballer; he loses considerably more than a season.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Christos Zafeiris 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. 145 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.
Bones knit. That is the one merciful thing about this injury and the reason PAOK will talk about it more openly than they would about a knee. He will be back, and roughly when they say.
370 appearances across 12 seasons in one shirt. Nobody builds a career like that on purpose any more; it happens to a certain kind of footballer at a certain kind of club.
The words a physio says slowly. 154 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.
Bones knit. That is the one merciful thing about this injury and the reason PAOK will talk about it more openly than they would about a knee. He will be back, and roughly when they say.
164 days on the estimate, and a long, private, unglamorous year of a rehabilitation nobody watches. PAOK lose a footballer; he loses considerably more than a season.
Bones knit. That is the one merciful thing about this injury and the reason PAOK will talk about it more openly than they would about a knee. He will be back, and roughly when they say.
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.
48 days on the estimate, and a long, private, unglamorous year of a rehabilitation nobody watches. PAOK lose a footballer; he loses considerably more than a season.
Bones knit. That is the one merciful thing about this injury and the reason PAOK will talk about it more openly than they would about a knee. He will be back, and roughly when they say.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at PAOK this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
In brief
SquadWords at PAOK training over how hard people work
57 days on the estimate, and a long, private, unglamorous year of a rehabilitation nobody watches. PAOK lose a footballer; he loses considerably more than a season.
Brutal, unambiguous and, for all the horror of the moment, usually less career-shaped than the ligament everybody fears more. 52 days, a clean timeline, and a return date somebody can actually plan around.
“I have nothing bad to say about this place. I just need to be somewhere else.” It is in writing now, which changes what PAOK can pretend not to have heard.
66 days on the estimate, and a long, private, unglamorous year of a rehabilitation nobody watches. PAOK lose a footballer; he loses considerably more than a season.
Bones knit. That is the one merciful thing about this injury and the reason PAOK will talk about it more openly than they would about a knee. He will be back, and roughly when they say.
“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 PAOK, and it is not being withdrawn.
Christos Zafeiris 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. Yves Bissouma 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. 74 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.
Bones knit. That is the one merciful thing about this injury and the reason PAOK will talk about it more openly than they would about a knee. He will be back, and roughly when they say.
There is an age at which every good afternoon gets described as a throwback, which is unfair and also accurate. 8.19 at 36, and nobody on the pitch was better.
The clubs have agreed terms, and what remains is formality: a medical, a photograph, a signature. Nobody at PAOK is pretending he will be back in the shirt.
9.32. There are performances a supporter describes to somebody who was not there and cannot quite convey; this was one, and the number does not help either.
At 22 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.
The words a physio says slowly. 83 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.
Brutal, unambiguous and, for all the horror of the moment, usually less career-shaped than the ligament everybody fears more. 33 days, a clean timeline, and a return date somebody can actually plan around.
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.
At 36 he is supposed to be managing his minutes. Instead he was marked 8.35 and looked, for ninety minutes, exactly like the player everybody remembers.
Christos Zafeiris 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.
Fee agreed, terms agreed, medical booked. Spyridon Tachtsidis will be somebody else’s player by the weekend, and around PAOK the goodbyes have quietly begun.
10 home matches unbeaten. Visiting sides arrive already talking about the atmosphere, which is usually the sign that they have half-lost before kickoff.
The words a physio says slowly. 90 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.
Brutal, unambiguous and, for all the horror of the moment, usually less career-shaped than the ligament everybody fears more. 42 days, a clean timeline, and a return date somebody can actually plan around.
“Things were said to me before I signed. I am not going to repeat them, but I remember all of them.” PAOK have not answered, which is an answer of sorts.
211 appearances across 11 seasons in one shirt. Nobody builds a career like that on purpose any more; it happens to a certain kind of footballer at a certain kind of club.
At 37 he is supposed to be managing his minutes. Instead he was marked 7.90 and looked, for ninety minutes, exactly like the player everybody remembers.
“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 PAOK, and it is not being withdrawn.
Terms are settled between the clubs and the rest is paperwork and a photograph. Around PAOK they have already started talking about him in the past tense.
Marked 8.76 — the sort of number a correspondent writes down twice to be sure. Everything he tried came off, and what he did not try was not worth trying.
The words a physio says slowly. 97 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.
Brutal, unambiguous and, for all the horror of the moment, usually less career-shaped than the ligament everybody fears more. 49 days, a clean timeline, and a return date somebody can actually plan around.
At 34 he is supposed to be managing his minutes. Instead he was marked 9.64 and looked, for ninety minutes, exactly like the player everybody remembers.
210 appearances across 11 seasons in one shirt. Nobody builds a career like that on purpose any more; it happens to a certain kind of footballer at a certain kind of club.
“I want to win things, and I would like to do it here.” Nothing has been demanded and nothing has been threatened — but a boardroom at PAOK hears a sentence like that exactly as it was built.
The clubs have agreed terms, and what remains is formality: a medical, a photograph, a signature. Nobody at PAOK is pretending he will be back in the shirt.
6 goals in one match, Shola Shoretire on the scoresheet, and a scoreline that will look like a misprint. Neutrals could not have asked more of PAOK and AEL Larisa.
105 days on the estimate, and a long, private, unglamorous year of a rehabilitation nobody watches. PAOK lose a footballer; he loses considerably more than a season.
Bones knit. That is the one merciful thing about this injury and the reason PAOK will talk about it more openly than they would about a knee. He will be back, and roughly when they say.
Terms are settled between the clubs and the rest is paperwork and a photograph. Around PAOK they have already started talking about him in the past tense.
There is an age at which every good afternoon gets described as a throwback, which is unfair and also accurate. 8.66 at 34, and nobody on the pitch was better.
“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 PAOK, and it is not being withdrawn.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at PAOK this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
The phone has started ringing about Shola Shoretire again, and this time the name on the line is Volos NPS. PAOK are listening politely and promising nothing.
The words a physio says slowly. 15 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.
Brutal, unambiguous and, for all the horror of the moment, usually less career-shaped than the ligament everybody fears more. 67 days, a clean timeline, and a return date somebody can actually plan around.
“Things were said to me before I signed. I am not going to repeat them, but I remember all of them.” PAOK have not answered, which is an answer of sorts.
The offer from Aris Thessaloniki for Spyridon Tachtsidis was heard out and sent back the same day. First bids are rarely meant to succeed; they are meant to find out how loudly the door closes.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Christos Zafeiris 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.
Panserraikos will keep picking him until June and will get nothing for him after it. Dušan Vuković has pre-agreed a move to PAOK, and the only people who lose in that arrangement are the ones who let the contract run down.
The words a physio says slowly. 22 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.
Brutal, unambiguous and, for all the horror of the moment, usually less career-shaped than the ligament everybody fears more. 74 days, a clean timeline, and a return date somebody can actually plan around.
At 37 he is supposed to be managing his minutes. Instead he was marked 8.66 and looked, for ninety minutes, exactly like the player everybody remembers.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at PAOK this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
9.30. There are performances a supporter describes to somebody who was not there and cannot quite convey; this was one, and the number does not help either.
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.
The words a physio says slowly. 29 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.
Brutal, unambiguous and, for all the horror of the moment, usually less career-shaped than the ligament everybody fears more. 81 days, a clean timeline, and a return date somebody can actually plan around.
There is a particular kind of quiet from an away end watching one man score twice. Dimitris Chatsidis provided it, and the 9.38 beside his name is if anything generous to everybody else.
The offer from Panserraikos for Shola Shoretire was heard out and sent back the same day. First bids are rarely meant to succeed; they are meant to find out how loudly the door closes.
At 35 he is supposed to be managing his minutes. Instead he was marked 8.69 and looked, for ninety minutes, exactly like the player everybody remembers.
“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 PAOK, and it is not being withdrawn.
The words a physio says slowly. 38 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.
Brutal, unambiguous and, for all the horror of the moment, usually less career-shaped than the ligament everybody fears more. 88 days, a clean timeline, and a return date somebody can actually plan around.
2 goals to the good, and then a slow surrender of everything that had been earned. Shola Shoretire will not be the one blamed for it, but nobody at PAOK escapes the conversation that follows a collapse like this.
“Things were said to me before I signed. I am not going to repeat them, but I remember all of them.” PAOK have not answered, which is an answer of sorts.
At 34 he is supposed to be managing his minutes. Instead he was marked 8.52 and looked, for ninety minutes, exactly like the player everybody remembers.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at PAOK this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
Fee agreed, terms agreed, medical booked. Georgios Nikolaou will be somebody else’s player by the weekend, and around PAOK the goodbyes have quietly begun.
The words a physio says slowly. 45 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.
Bones knit. That is the one merciful thing about this injury and the reason PAOK will talk about it more openly than they would about a knee. He will be back, and roughly when they say.
Christos Zafeiris 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.
12 shots, and a count that reads like a good afternoon until you check the other column. Strikers survive weeks like this on the understanding that the chances keep arriving; the day they stop is the day it becomes a problem.
He is the name in every column and on every phone-in, which is a heavy thing to carry at any age. Some footballers thrive on it; others are quietly finished by it.
53 days on the estimate, and a long, private, unglamorous year of a rehabilitation nobody watches. PAOK lose a footballer; he loses considerably more than a season.
Bones knit. That is the one merciful thing about this injury and the reason PAOK will talk about it more openly than they would about a knee. He will be back, and roughly when they say.
At 2 goals adrift this was a formality, and the formality lasted right up until it did not. PAOK found something the first half had given no notice of, and Molde could not hold what they had.
“Things were said to me before I signed. I am not going to repeat them, but I remember all of them.” PAOK have not answered, which is an answer of sorts.
At 33 he is supposed to be managing his minutes. Instead he was marked 8.84 and looked, for ninety minutes, exactly like the player everybody remembers.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at PAOK this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
22 times he got in the way of something. Centre-halves get written about when they make mistakes and ignored when they do not, so an afternoon like this needs saying out loud: he is the reason the scoreline reads as it does.
9.46. There are performances a supporter describes to somebody who was not there and cannot quite convey; this was one, and the number does not help either.
Bones knit. That is the one merciful thing about this injury and the reason PAOK will talk about it more openly than they would about a knee. He will be back, and roughly when they say.
There is an age at which every good afternoon gets described as a throwback, which is unfair and also accurate. 8.57 at 36, and nobody on the pitch was better.
Terms are settled between the clubs and the rest is paperwork and a photograph. Around PAOK they have already started talking about him in the past tense.
Shots: 9. Goals: none. The chances were there and they were good ones, and they went into the stand, the goalkeeper's arms and the side netting in roughly that order.
Bones knit. That is the one merciful thing about this injury and the reason PAOK will talk about it more openly than they would about a knee. He will be back, and roughly when they say.
1‑4 against Panathinaikos, and no complaints that would survive the replay. The manager spoke about character afterwards; the terraces used shorter words.
1‑2 away to the standard of Boavista. Nobody will pretend this was a scandal; the gap is real, it is measurable, and closing it is a project rather than a team talk.
Terms are settled between the clubs and the rest is paperwork and a photograph. Around PAOK they have already started talking about him in the past tense.
Joakim Mæhle 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 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.
Position 1, 30 points, and the result everyone checks first is now theirs. The word is still not being said around the ground, which is how you know everyone is thinking it.
At 34 he is supposed to be managing his minutes. Instead he was marked 9.47 and looked, for ninety minutes, exactly like the player everybody remembers.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Christos Zafeiris 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.
Santiago Silva 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.
Nobody will confirm this and nothing else explains the last month of selections. A costly error buys a player a period of being second choice that is always longer than the error was.
Two goals and a mark of 8.51 to go with them. Strikers are judged on afternoons like this one and remembered for far fewer of them than people imagine.
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.
There is an age at which every good afternoon gets described as a throwback, which is unfair and also accurate. 8.35 at 36, and nobody on the pitch was better.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at PAOK this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Merlin Röhl 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.
6 goals. Both benches spent the second half looking at each other rather than at the pitch. Purists will complain about PAOK and Asteras in equal measure; everybody else had a wonderful time.
Ibrahim Salah had done his part in building a 2-goal cushion. What happened after that was collective, and Volos NPS were allowed back into a match that had been finished with.
0‑2 against Dinamo Bucharest. Continental football is unforgiving about the things a domestic league lets a side get away with, and this was a night spent finding out which of those the club still has.
At 35 he is supposed to be managing his minutes. Instead he was marked 9.09 and looked, for ninety minutes, exactly like the player everybody remembers.
Fee agreed, terms agreed, medical booked. Manu Teixeira will be somebody else’s player by the weekend, and around PAOK the goodbyes have quietly begun.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Christos Zafeiris 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.
Santiago Silva 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 is a particular kind of quiet from an away end watching one man score twice. Anastasios Papanikolaou provided it, and the 8.89 beside his name is if anything generous to everybody else.
There is an age at which every good afternoon gets described as a throwback, which is unfair and also accurate. 8.95 at 35, and nobody on the pitch was better.
“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.
Terms are settled between the clubs and the rest is paperwork and a photograph. Around PAOK they have already started talking about him in the past tense.
3 wins in a row changes how opponents warm up: quieter, more glances across. Runs end, everybody knows that — but nobody in this dressing room is planning for it.
5‑0. Nights like this are why clubs spend decades trying to qualify for this competition, and they arrive perhaps twice in that time. Everybody who was in the ground will describe it badly for years.
Some afternoons a goalkeeper is the team. 8 saves, several of them the sort nobody expects to see stopped, and a scoreline that flatters everybody in front of him.
At 35 he is supposed to be managing his minutes. Instead he was marked 9.10 and looked, for ninety minutes, exactly like the player everybody remembers.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at PAOK this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Merlin Röhl 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.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Christos Zafeiris 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.
Santiago Silva 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.
Some transfers need a press campaign. This one needed a shirt with the old number on it. Emmanouil Siopis is a PAOK player again, and the town has its story of the summer.
The enquiry everybody at PAOK was hoping would not arrive has arrived. He has never pretended he did not want to go back, and now there is somewhere to go back to.
8 shots, and a count that reads like a good afternoon until you check the other column. Strikers survive weeks like this on the understanding that the chances keep arriving; the day they stop is the day it becomes a problem.
8 attempts, none of them in. He got into the right places all afternoon, which is the hard part, and did the easy part badly — and that is the version of a bad day a manager can live with.
Bones knit. That is the one merciful thing about this injury and the reason PAOK will talk about it more openly than they would about a knee. He will be back, and roughly when they say.
At 34 he is supposed to be managing his minutes. Instead he was marked 10.00 and looked, for ninety minutes, exactly like the player everybody remembers.
The clubs have agreed terms, and what remains is formality: a medical, a photograph, a signature. Nobody at PAOK is pretending he will be back in the shirt.
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 was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at PAOK this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
Some transfers need a press campaign. This one needed a shirt with the old number on it. Giannis Michailidis is a PAOK player again, and the town has its story of the summer.
22 defensive actions and a clean sheet at the end of them. A defender's afternoon can only be told by what did not happen, which is why nobody makes a highlights package out of one and every manager in the division would take it.
In brief
Player ratingsNinety minutes of Philipp Maybach at his very best
Brutal, unambiguous and, for all the horror of the moment, usually less career-shaped than the ligament everybody fears more. 26 days, a clean timeline, and a return date somebody can actually plan around.
1‑2 against Molde. Continental football is unforgiving about the things a domestic league lets a side get away with, and this was a night spent finding out which of those the club still has.
There is an age at which every good afternoon gets described as a throwback, which is unfair and also accurate. 8.24 at 35, and nobody on the pitch was better.
“I want to be playing for trophies while my legs still let me.” Nothing in that sentence is a transfer request, and nobody at PAOK heard it as anything else.
Christos Zafeiris 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.
Terms are settled between the clubs and the rest is paperwork and a photograph. Around PAOK they have already started talking about him in the past tense.
Squad5 Oct 2037
Merlin Röhl 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.
9.53. There are performances a supporter describes to somebody who was not there and cannot quite convey; this was one, and the number does not help either.
Bones knit. That is the one merciful thing about this injury and the reason PAOK will talk about it more openly than they would about a knee. He will be back, and roughly when they say.
At 35 he is supposed to be managing his minutes. Instead he was marked 9.42 and looked, for ninety minutes, exactly like the player everybody remembers.
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 was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at PAOK this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
Terms are settled between the clubs and the rest is paperwork and a photograph. Around PAOK they have already started talking about him in the past tense.
Marked 8.94 — the sort of number a correspondent writes down twice to be sure. Everything he tried came off, and what he did not try was not worth trying.
Bones knit. That is the one merciful thing about this injury and the reason PAOK will talk about it more openly than they would about a knee. He will be back, and roughly when they say.
1‑1 against Boavista, under lights, against people who do not speak the same language as the crowd. These are the evenings a club measures its decade in, and there are never as many of them as anybody expects.
It is a specific kind of quiet, a ground watching a winning position dissolve. Aris Thessaloniki kept coming because nothing stopped them, and PAOK will be asked about the last half hour all week.
There is an age at which every good afternoon gets described as a throwback, which is unfair and also accurate. 9.04 at 34, and nobody on the pitch was better.
The clubs have agreed terms, and what remains is formality: a medical, a photograph, a signature. Nobody at PAOK is pretending he will be back in the shirt.
The rules permit it and it stings anyway. Giannis Michailidis has agreed terms with AEK for the summer, and until then he pulls on this shirt as a player who has already chosen his next one.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Christos Zafeiris 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.
Santiago Silva 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.
Bones knit. That is the one merciful thing about this injury and the reason PAOK will talk about it more openly than they would about a knee. He will be back, and roughly when they say.
At 33 he is supposed to be managing his minutes. Instead he was marked 9.16 and looked, for ninety minutes, exactly like the player everybody remembers.
26 times he got in the way of something. Centre-halves get written about when they make mistakes and ignored when they do not, so an afternoon like this needs saying out loud: he is the reason the scoreline reads as it does.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at PAOK this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
“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.
Fee agreed, terms agreed, medical booked. Manu Teixeira will be somebody else’s player by the weekend, and around PAOK the goodbyes have quietly begun.
There is no worse way to lose a footballer. Manu Teixeira 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.
Squad14 Sep 2037
Yves Bissouma 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.
Bones knit. That is the one merciful thing about this injury and the reason PAOK will talk about it more openly than they would about a knee. He will be back, and roughly when they say.
Two goals and a mark of 8.69 to go with them. Strikers are judged on afternoons like this one and remembered for far fewer of them than people imagine.
Everything was agreed until it was not, and Jack Porter reports back to PAOK with a summer to forget. Neither club is saying who walked away from the table.
There is an age at which every good afternoon gets described as a throwback, which is unfair and also accurate. 8.16 at 33, and nobody on the pitch was better.
“I want to be playing for trophies while my legs still let me.” Nothing in that sentence is a transfer request, and nobody at PAOK heard it as anything else.
The offer from Panserraikos for Apostolos Tsadjaris was heard out and sent back the same day. First bids are rarely meant to succeed; they are meant to find out how loudly the door closes.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Christos Zafeiris 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.
Some afternoons a goalkeeper is the team. 12 saves, several of them the sort nobody expects to see stopped, and a scoreline that flatters everybody in front of him.
There is an age at which every good afternoon gets described as a throwback, which is unfair and also accurate. 8.86 at 34, and nobody on the pitch was better.
“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 PAOK, and it is not being withdrawn.
PAOK moved before anybody else could: a new deal for Stylianos Kourbelis, agreed quietly and announced loudly. Boards extend managers for many reasons; the good one is the one this looks like.
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 was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at PAOK this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
Fee agreed, terms agreed, medical booked. Mattias Lamhauge will be somebody else’s player by the weekend, and around PAOK the goodbyes have quietly begun.
The offer from Kifisia for Anastasios Nikolaou was heard out and sent back the same day. First bids are rarely meant to succeed; they are meant to find out how loudly the door closes.
Christos Zafeiris 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.
Fee agreed, terms agreed, medical booked. Spyridon Tachtsidis will be somebody else’s player by the weekend, and around PAOK the goodbyes have quietly begun.
The name of Shola Shoretire has come up in conversations PAOK were not part of. Nothing formal, nothing signed — but nothing about it accidental either.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Yves Bissouma 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.
At 24 the improving is meant to be over. It is not: 3 points better than the mark taken at the start of the year, which is the sort of thing that happens to players who take the boring parts of the job seriously.
Nobody will confirm this and nothing else explains the last month of selections. A costly error buys a player a period of being second choice that is always longer than the error was.
The clubs have agreed terms, and what remains is formality: a medical, a photograph, a signature. Nobody at PAOK 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 PAOK this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
Squad17 Aug 2037
Yves Bissouma 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.
Nobody at PAOK will say this on the record and the team sheets have been saying it for weeks. There is a small group in every squad who get picked when the fixture is difficult, and he has joined it.
Publicly it is behind everybody. It is not behind the man who picks the team, and the only place that shows is a team sheet. He will get another chance; he will get it in a match that matters less.
“I have nothing bad to say about this place. I just need to be somewhere else.” It is in writing now, which changes what PAOK can pretend not to have heard.
Nobody makes a documentary about a hamstring and everybody in the game fears one. PAOK will be careful with the return date, because the second one is always worse than the first.
Christos Zafeiris 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.
Squad10 Aug 2037
Merlin Röhl 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.
Careers are supposed to plateau and then decline, and the players who ignore that are always the ones who were listening on the training ground. 3 points of it, over months, at an age where the direction normally only goes one way.
“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.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at PAOK this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
“I have nothing bad to say about this place. I just need to be somewhere else.” It is in writing now, which changes what PAOK can pretend not to have heard.
The clubs have agreed terms, and what remains is formality: a medical, a photograph, a signature. Nobody at PAOK is pretending he will be back in the shirt.
Position 3, 52 points, and the result everyone checks first is now theirs. The word is still not being said around the ground, which is how you know everyone is thinking it.
Christos Zafeiris 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.
Terms are settled between the clubs and the rest is paperwork and a photograph. Around PAOK they have already started talking about him in the past tense.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Yves Bissouma 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.
Nobody will confirm this and nothing else explains the last month of selections. A costly error buys a player a period of being second choice that is always longer than the error was.
Terms are settled between the clubs and the rest is paperwork and a photograph. Around PAOK they have already started talking about him in the past tense.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at PAOK this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
The offer from AEK for Apostolos Tsadjaris was heard out and sent back the same day. First bids are rarely meant to succeed; they are meant to find out how loudly the door closes.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Merlin Röhl 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.
Nobody at PAOK will say this on the record and the team sheets have been saying it for weeks. There is a small group in every squad who get picked when the fixture is difficult, and he has joined it.
“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 PAOK, and it is not being withdrawn.
Christos Zafeiris 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.
Fee agreed, terms agreed, medical booked. Apostolos Tsadjaris will be somebody else’s player by the weekend, and around PAOK the goodbyes have quietly begun.
“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.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Yves Bissouma 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.
It is never announced and it is entirely visible: the biggest afternoons of the season keep containing him. A press box works this out long before anybody at the club confirms a word of it.
“I want to be playing for trophies while my legs still let me.” Nothing in that sentence is a transfer request, and nobody at PAOK heard it as anything else.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at PAOK this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
“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 PAOK, and it is not being withdrawn.
Squad6 Jul 2037
Yves Bissouma 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.
Form comes and goes; this has not gone. Emmanouil Ioannidis is 20, and the version of him training now would not have got into the side he was in a year ago.
Brutal, unambiguous and, for all the horror of the moment, usually less career-shaped than the ligament everybody fears more. 22 days, a clean timeline, and a return date somebody can actually plan around.
Position 3, 52 points, and the result everyone checks first is now theirs. The word is still not being said around the ground, which is how you know everyone is thinking it.
Christos Zafeiris 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 name of Shola Shoretire has come up in conversations PAOK were not part of. Nothing formal, nothing signed — but nothing about it accidental either.
The deal that would have taken Georgios Nikolaou to Panserraikos has collapsed at the last stage, and he reports back to PAOK with a summer to forget and a season still to play. Nobody is saying which side walked away.
Terms are settled between the clubs and the rest is paperwork and a photograph. Around PAOK they have already started talking about him in the past tense.
In brief
SquadMerlin Röhl falls out with a teammate over standards
Brutal, unambiguous and, for all the horror of the moment, usually less career-shaped than the ligament everybody fears more. 29 days, a clean timeline, and a return date somebody can actually plan around.
The clubs have agreed terms, and what remains is formality: a medical, a photograph, a signature. Nobody at PAOK is pretending he will be back in the shirt.
Nobody makes a documentary about a hamstring and everybody in the game fears one. PAOK will be careful with the return date, because the second one is always worse than the first.
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 was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at PAOK this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
Brutal, unambiguous and, for all the horror of the moment, usually less career-shaped than the ligament everybody fears more. 36 days, a clean timeline, and a return date somebody can actually plan around.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Christos Zafeiris 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.
Santiago Silva 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.
15 days on the estimate, and a long, private, unglamorous year of a rehabilitation nobody watches. PAOK lose a footballer; he loses considerably more than a season.
Brutal, unambiguous and, for all the horror of the moment, usually less career-shaped than the ligament everybody fears more. 43 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 PAOK this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
“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.
22 days on the estimate, and a long, private, unglamorous year of a rehabilitation nobody watches. PAOK lose a footballer; he loses considerably more than a season.
Brutal, unambiguous and, for all the horror of the moment, usually less career-shaped than the ligament everybody fears more. 52 days, a clean timeline, and a return date somebody can actually plan around.
“I want to be playing for trophies while my legs still let me.” Nothing in that sentence is a transfer request, and nobody at PAOK heard it as anything else.
Christos Zafeiris 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.
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.
Fee agreed, terms agreed, medical booked. Mattias Lamhauge will be somebody else’s player by the weekend, and around PAOK the goodbyes have quietly begun.
Footballers are asked about their boyhood club so often that nobody listens to the answer. Marcelo Montecinos has just signed for PAOK, and for once the answer mattered.
Qualification is secured, and next season the big floodlit nights are continental ones. For the players it is a stage; for the accounts it is a lifeline; for the supporters it is passports.
The words a physio says slowly. 30 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.
Brutal, unambiguous and, for all the horror of the moment, usually less career-shaped than the ligament everybody fears more. 59 days, a clean timeline, and a return date somebody can actually plan around.
Qualification is done, and next season the floodlights come on for something bigger. A stage for the players, oxygen for the accounts and a passport for everybody else.
38 days on the estimate, and a long, private, unglamorous year of a rehabilitation nobody watches. PAOK lose a footballer; he loses considerably more than a season.
Bones knit. That is the one merciful thing about this injury and the reason PAOK will talk about it more openly than they would about a knee. He will be back, and roughly when they say.
“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 PAOK, and it is not being withdrawn.
Christos Zafeiris 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.
Fee agreed, terms agreed, medical booked. Apostolos Tsadjaris will be somebody else’s player by the weekend, and around PAOK the goodbyes have quietly begun.
The words a physio says slowly. 46 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.
Bones knit. That is the one merciful thing about this injury and the reason PAOK will talk about it more openly than they would about a knee. He will be back, and roughly when they say.
The words a physio says slowly. 53 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.
Brutal, unambiguous and, for all the horror of the moment, usually less career-shaped than the ligament everybody fears more. 84 days, a clean timeline, and a return date somebody can actually plan around.
“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.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Christos Zafeiris 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.
61 days on the estimate, and a long, private, unglamorous year of a rehabilitation nobody watches. PAOK lose a footballer; he loses considerably more than a season.
Brutal, unambiguous and, for all the horror of the moment, usually less career-shaped than the ligament everybody fears more. 91 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 PAOK this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
In brief
SquadYves Bissouma falls out with a teammate over standards
72 days on the estimate, and a long, private, unglamorous year of a rehabilitation nobody watches. PAOK lose a footballer; he loses considerably more than a season.
Brutal, unambiguous and, for all the horror of the moment, usually less career-shaped than the ligament everybody fears more. 100 days, a clean timeline, and a return date somebody can actually plan around.
“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 PAOK, and it is not being withdrawn.
The words a physio says slowly. 80 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.
Bones knit. That is the one merciful thing about this injury and the reason PAOK will talk about it more openly than they would about a knee. He will be back, and roughly when they say.
The words a physio says slowly. 87 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.
Bones knit. That is the one merciful thing about this injury and the reason PAOK will talk about it more openly than they would about a knee. He will be back, and roughly when they say.
“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 PAOK, and it is not being withdrawn.
344 appearances across 11 seasons in one shirt. Nobody builds a career like that on purpose any more; it happens to a certain kind of footballer at a certain kind of club.
“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.
95 days on the estimate, and a long, private, unglamorous year of a rehabilitation nobody watches. PAOK 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.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at PAOK this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
In brief
SquadThe manager has not finished forgetting Santiago Silva's mistake
The words a physio says slowly. 103 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 PAOK, and it is not being withdrawn.
2‑3 against Molde. Continental football is unforgiving about the things a domestic league lets a side get away with, and this was a night spent finding out which of those the club still has.
At 33 he is supposed to be managing his minutes. Instead he was marked 8.67 and looked, for ninety minutes, exactly like the player everybody remembers.
The clubs have agreed terms, and what remains is formality: a medical, a photograph, a signature. Nobody at PAOK 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 PAOK this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Christos Zafeiris 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.
In brief
Player ratingsDimitris Chatsidis was on a different afternoon to everybody else
The words a physio says slowly. 110 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.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at PAOK this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
In brief
SquadWords at PAOK training over how hard people work
15 days on the estimate, and a long, private, unglamorous year of a rehabilitation nobody watches. PAOK lose a footballer; he loses considerably more than a season.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Christos Zafeiris 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.
Santiago Silva 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.
Terms are settled between the clubs and the rest is paperwork and a photograph. Around PAOK they have already started talking about him in the past tense.
4 kept out in the shoot-out, and a stadium that will still be describing them in twenty years. A goalkeeper only needs one of these to be remembered forever.
The words a physio says slowly. 23 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.
There is a particular kind of quiet from an away end watching one man score twice. Santiago Daniele provided it, and the 9.31 beside his name is if anything generous to everybody else.
The hardest thing about being 21 in a senior side is that nobody makes allowances. Anastasios Papanikolaou did not need any: 8.01, and he looked the most comfortable man on the pitch.
The words a physio says slowly. 30 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 PAOK, and it is not being withdrawn.
At 34 he is supposed to be managing his minutes. Instead he was marked 9.72 and looked, for ninety minutes, exactly like the player everybody remembers.
Terms are settled between the clubs and the rest is paperwork and a photograph. Around PAOK they have already started talking about him in the past tense.
Christos Zafeiris 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.
38 days on the estimate, and a long, private, unglamorous year of a rehabilitation nobody watches. PAOK 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.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at PAOK this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
The words a physio says slowly. 45 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.
There is an age at which every good afternoon gets described as a throwback, which is unfair and also accurate. 8.77 at 35, and nobody on the pitch was better.
The rules permit it and it stings anyway. Ivan Guteša has agreed terms with AEK for the summer, and until then he pulls on this shirt as a player who has already chosen his next one.
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 was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at PAOK this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
Terms are settled between the clubs and the rest is paperwork and a photograph. Around PAOK they have already started talking about him in the past tense.
The words a physio says slowly. 52 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.
There is an age at which every good afternoon gets described as a throwback, which is unfair and also accurate. 9.65 at 34, and nobody on the pitch was better.
A mark of 8.49 means one thing beside a twenty-nine-year-old's name and something else entirely beside a 21-year-old's. Nobody at the ground needed telling which this was.
“I have nothing bad to say about this place. I just need to be somewhere else.” It is in writing now, which changes what PAOK can pretend not to have heard.
“I have nothing bad to say about this place. I just need to be somewhere else.” It is in writing now, which changes what PAOK can pretend not to have heard.
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.
There is an age at which every good afternoon gets described as a throwback, which is unfair and also accurate. 8.08 at 33, and nobody on the pitch was better.
Fee agreed, terms agreed, medical booked. Apostolos Tsadjaris will be somebody else’s player by the weekend, and around PAOK the goodbyes have quietly begun.
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 was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at PAOK this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
There is a particular kind of quiet from an away end watching one man score twice. Dimitris Chatsidis provided it, and the 9.28 beside his name is if anything generous to everybody else.
Santiago Silva 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. Christos Zafeiris 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.
8 goals in one match, Dimitris Chatsidis on the scoresheet, and a scoreline that will look like a misprint. Neutrals could not have asked more of PAOK and AEK.
Position 2, 43 points, and the result everyone checks first is now theirs. The word is still not being said around the ground, which is how you know everyone is thinking it.
At 36 he is supposed to be managing his minutes. Instead he was marked 9.01 and looked, for ninety minutes, exactly like the player everybody remembers.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at PAOK this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
10 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.
Squad12 Jan 2037
Yves Bissouma 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 afternoons a goalkeeper is the team. 8 saves, several of them the sort nobody expects to see stopped, and a scoreline that flatters everybody in front of him.
At 34 he is supposed to be managing his minutes. Instead he was marked 9.04 and looked, for ninety minutes, exactly like the player everybody remembers.
“I have nothing bad to say about this place. I just need to be somewhere else.” It is in writing now, which changes what PAOK can pretend not to have heard.
Add another name to the list: Panserraikos have asked the question everybody in the game has been asking about Shola Shoretire. The answer from PAOK has not changed — yet.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at PAOK this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Christos Zafeiris 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. 17 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.
At 35 he is supposed to be managing his minutes. Instead he was marked 10.00 and looked, for ninety minutes, exactly like the player everybody remembers.
A mark of 8.32 means one thing beside a twenty-nine-year-old's name and something else entirely beside a 21-year-old's. Nobody at the ground needed telling which this was.
Jorge Sánchez 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 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 words a physio says slowly. 24 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.
2 in front and in complete control, and it finished with Aris Thessaloniki the happier side. There is no version of this afternoon that PAOK will enjoy reviewing.
“Things were said to me before I signed. I am not going to repeat them, but I remember all of them.” PAOK have not answered, which is an answer of sorts.
There is an age at which every good afternoon gets described as a throwback, which is unfair and also accurate. 8.96 at 35, and nobody on the pitch was better.
Terms are settled between the clubs and the rest is paperwork and a photograph. Around PAOK they have already started talking about him in the past tense.
Christos Zafeiris 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.
Marked 9.10 — the sort of number a correspondent writes down twice to be sure. Everything he tried came off, and what he did not try was not worth trying.
8 home matches unbeaten. Visiting sides arrive already talking about the atmosphere, which is usually the sign that they have half-lost before kickoff.
3‑1 against Partizani Tirana, and a performance that will be described to people who were not there for the rest of the season. Dimitris Chatsidis was at the centre of the description.
A 3‑1 win over Aris Thessaloniki, a place in the next round, and the quiet arithmetic every supporter does on the walk home: how many more until a final?
32 days on the estimate, and a long, private, unglamorous year of a rehabilitation nobody watches. PAOK lose a footballer; he loses considerably more than a season.
There is no crueller way to lose a football match. PAOK scored in the 95th minute, the restart barely happened, and the away end was still standing when the whistle went.
Player ratings15 Dec 2036
A brace, and Giorgos Sokos takes the afternoon — 8.80
There is a particular kind of quiet from an away end watching one man score twice. Giorgos Sokos provided it, and the 8.80 beside his name is if anything generous to everybody else.
The words a physio says slowly. 40 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.
There is an age at which every good afternoon gets described as a throwback, which is unfair and also accurate. 7.92 at 35, and nobody on the pitch was better.
“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.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Christos Zafeiris 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.
Santiago Silva 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.
Marked 8.97 — the sort of number a correspondent writes down twice to be sure. Everything he tried came off, and what he did not try was not worth trying.
There is a figure at which a wage bill stops being ambitious and becomes the reason nothing else is possible, and this club has reached it. Nothing is left over for a transfer, a stand or a rainy afternoon.
The words a physio says slowly. 47 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.
1‑2 away to the standard of Lech. Nobody will pretend this was a scandal; the gap is real, it is measurable, and closing it is a project rather than a team talk.
A mark of 8.30 means one thing beside a twenty-nine-year-old's name and something else entirely beside a 21-year-old's. Nobody at the ground needed telling which this was.
“I have nothing bad to say about this place. I just need to be somewhere else.” It is in writing now, which changes what PAOK can pretend not to have heard.
At 34 he is supposed to be managing his minutes. Instead he was marked 8.25 and looked, for ninety minutes, exactly like the player everybody remembers.
“I want to be playing for trophies while my legs still let me.” Nothing in that sentence is a transfer request, and nobody at PAOK heard it as anything else.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at PAOK this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
Squad1 Dec 2036
Yves Bissouma 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.
55 days on the estimate, and a long, private, unglamorous year of a rehabilitation nobody watches. PAOK lose a footballer; he loses considerably more than a season.
The hardest thing about being 21 in a senior side is that nobody makes allowances. Anastasios Papanikolaou did not need any: 8.56, and he looked the most comfortable man on the pitch.
At 34 he is supposed to be managing his minutes. Instead he was marked 8.94 and looked, for ninety minutes, exactly like the player everybody remembers.
Fee agreed, terms agreed, medical booked. Apostolos Tsadjaris will be somebody else’s player by the weekend, and around PAOK 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 PAOK this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Christos Zafeiris 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. 63 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.
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 was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at PAOK this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
15 attempts, none of them in. He got into the right places all afternoon, which is the hard part, and did the easy part badly — and that is the version of a bad day a manager can live with.
71 days on the estimate, and a long, private, unglamorous year of a rehabilitation nobody watches. PAOK lose a footballer; he loses considerably more than a season.
Some goals win a match and some take one off somebody else. Dimitris Chatsidis scored in the 86th minute, Volos NPS had already begun thinking about the journey home, and PAOK took the lot.
A mark of 8.17 means one thing beside a twenty-nine-year-old's name and something else entirely beside a 21-year-old's. Nobody at the ground needed telling which this was.
There is an age at which every good afternoon gets described as a throwback, which is unfair and also accurate. 8.27 at 34, and nobody on the pitch was better.
Christos Zafeiris 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 words a physio says slowly. 14 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.
Some afternoons a goalkeeper is the team. 7 saves, several of them the sort nobody expects to see stopped, and a scoreline that flatters everybody in front of him.
The hardest thing about being 21 in a senior side is that nobody makes allowances. Anastasios Papanikolaou did not need any: 8.63, and he looked the most comfortable man on the pitch.
5 wins in a row changes how opponents warm up: quieter, more glances across. Runs end, everybody knows that — but nobody in this dressing room is planning for it.
There is an age at which every good afternoon gets described as a throwback, which is unfair and also accurate. 8.29 at 40, and nobody on the pitch was better.
188 appearances across 11 seasons in one shirt. Nobody builds a career like that on purpose any more; it happens to a certain kind of footballer at a certain kind of club.
“I want to be playing for trophies while my legs still let me.” Nothing in that sentence is a transfer request, and nobody at PAOK heard it as anything else.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at PAOK this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
The words a physio says slowly. 23 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.
There is a particular kind of quiet from an away end watching one man score twice. Philipp Maybach provided it, and the 9.35 beside his name is if anything generous to everybody else.
There is an age at which every good afternoon gets described as a throwback, which is unfair and also accurate. 9.01 at 35, and nobody on the pitch was better.
A mark of 7.91 means one thing beside a twenty-nine-year-old's name and something else entirely beside a 21-year-old's. Nobody at the ground needed telling which this was.
4 wins on the spin now, and the question has changed from whether the run ends to who ends it. Confidence like this cannot be bought; it has to be earned exactly this way.
The clubs have agreed terms, and what remains is formality: a medical, a photograph, a signature. Nobody at PAOK is pretending he will be back in the shirt.
Christos Zafeiris 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.
31 days on the estimate, and a long, private, unglamorous year of a rehabilitation nobody watches. PAOK lose a footballer; he loses considerably more than a season.
Some afternoons a goalkeeper is the team. 10 saves, several of them the sort nobody expects to see stopped, and a scoreline that flatters everybody in front of him.
The 89th minute, half the ground already edging towards the exits, and Anastasios Papanikolaou decided nobody was going anywhere. AEK had no time left to answer.
The hardest thing about being 21 in a senior side is that nobody makes allowances. Anastasios Papanikolaou did not need any: 8.27, and he looked the most comfortable man on the pitch.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at PAOK this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
Marked 8.91 — the sort of number a correspondent writes down twice to be sure. Everything he tried came off, and what he did not try was not worth trying.
The words a physio says slowly. 41 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.
Two goals and a mark of 8.88 to go with them. Strikers are judged on afternoons like this one and remembered for far fewer of them than people imagine.
Brutal, unambiguous and, for all the horror of the moment, usually less career-shaped than the ligament everybody fears more. 19 days, a clean timeline, and a return date somebody can actually plan around.
At 35 he is supposed to be managing his minutes. Instead he was marked 9.08 and looked, for ninety minutes, exactly like the player everybody remembers.
Christos Zafeiris 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.
“I want to be playing for trophies while my legs still let me.” Nothing in that sentence is a transfer request, and nobody at PAOK heard it as anything else.
Marked 8.57 — the sort of number a correspondent writes down twice to be sure. Everything he tried came off, and what he did not try was not worth trying.
The words a physio says slowly. 50 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.
3‑3 against Partizani Tirana, and a performance that will be described to people who were not there for the rest of the season. Dimitris Chatsidis was at the centre of the description.
Bones knit. That is the one merciful thing about this injury and the reason PAOK will talk about it more openly than they would about a knee. He will be back, and roughly when they say.
A mark of 8.18 means one thing beside a twenty-nine-year-old's name and something else entirely beside a 21-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 PAOK, and it is not being withdrawn.
At 35 he is supposed to be managing his minutes. Instead he was marked 8.33 and looked, for ninety minutes, exactly like the player everybody remembers.
The words a physio says slowly. 57 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.
2 kept out in the shoot-out, and a stadium that will still be describing them in twenty years. A goalkeeper only needs one of these to be remembered forever.
Cup ties wait for somebody to seize them, and Santiago Daniele obliged against Levadiakos. 1‑1 on the night, and the name in the next round’s hat is PAOK.
Bones knit. That is the one merciful thing about this injury and the reason PAOK will talk about it more openly than they would about a knee. He will be back, and roughly when they say.
The clubs have agreed terms, and what remains is formality: a medical, a photograph, a signature. Nobody at PAOK is pretending he will be back in the shirt.
The words a physio says slowly. 64 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.
It is a specific kind of quiet, a ground watching a winning position dissolve. Aris Thessaloniki kept coming because nothing stopped them, and PAOK will be asked about the last half hour all week.
1‑2 against Lech. Continental football is unforgiving about the things a domestic league lets a side get away with, and this was a night spent finding out which of those the club still has.
There is a particular kind of quiet from an away end watching one man score twice. Pavlos Pantelidis provided it, and the 8.79 beside his name is if anything generous to everybody else.
Brutal, unambiguous and, for all the horror of the moment, usually less career-shaped than the ligament everybody fears more. 44 days, a clean timeline, and a return date somebody can actually plan around.
The hardest thing about being 21 in a senior side is that nobody makes allowances. Anastasios Papanikolaou did not need any: 8.51, and he looked the most comfortable man on the pitch.
There is an age at which every good afternoon gets described as a throwback, which is unfair and also accurate. 8.60 at 35, and nobody on the pitch was better.
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.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at PAOK this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
The words a physio says slowly. 73 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.
Bones knit. That is the one merciful thing about this injury and the reason PAOK will talk about it more openly than they would about a knee. He will be back, and roughly when they say.
There is an age at which every good afternoon gets described as a throwback, which is unfair and also accurate. 8.76 at 35, and nobody on the pitch was better.
Christos Zafeiris 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.
“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.
Headers, blocks, tackles, interceptions — 21 of them, and not one goal behind him. The sort of performance that never makes a highlight reel and wins football matches.
81 days on the estimate, and a long, private, unglamorous year of a rehabilitation nobody watches. PAOK lose a footballer; he loses considerably more than a season.
Bones knit. That is the one merciful thing about this injury and the reason PAOK will talk about it more openly than they would about a knee. He will be back, and roughly when they say.
“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.
Every touch is being weighed now, in print and everywhere else. Some players grow into that and some are quietly ruined by it, and nobody knows which in advance.
The words a physio says slowly. 89 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.
Some afternoons a goalkeeper is the team. 8 saves, several of them the sort nobody expects to see stopped, and a scoreline that flatters everybody in front of him.
Bones knit. That is the one merciful thing about this injury and the reason PAOK will talk about it more openly than they would about a knee. He will be back, and roughly when they say.
There is an age at which every good afternoon gets described as a throwback, which is unfair and also accurate. 8.48 at 35, and nobody on the pitch was better.
336 appearances across 11 seasons in one shirt. Nobody builds a career like that on purpose any more; it happens to a certain kind of footballer at a certain kind of club.
“I want to win things, and I would like to do it here.” Nothing has been demanded and nothing has been threatened — but a boardroom at PAOK hears a sentence like that exactly as it was built.
Fee agreed, terms agreed, medical booked. Apostolos Tsadjaris will be somebody else’s player by the weekend, and around PAOK the goodbyes have quietly begun.
97 days on the estimate, and a long, private, unglamorous year of a rehabilitation nobody watches. PAOK lose a footballer; he loses considerably more than a season.
Bones knit. That is the one merciful thing about this injury and the reason PAOK will talk about it more openly than they would about a knee. He will be back, and roughly when they say.
“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 PAOK, and it is not being withdrawn.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at PAOK this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
Fee agreed, terms agreed, medical booked. Antonis Tsiftsis will be somebody else’s player by the weekend, and around PAOK the goodbyes have quietly begun.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Merlin Röhl 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.
In brief
Boardroom10 academy players handed senior numbers at PAOK
The words a physio says slowly. 105 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.
Bones knit. That is the one merciful thing about this injury and the reason PAOK will talk about it more openly than they would about a knee. He will be back, and roughly when they say.
Christos Zafeiris 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. Yves Bissouma 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.
Asteras will keep picking him until June and will get nothing for him after it. Mattia Macchi has pre-agreed a move to PAOK, and the only people who lose in that arrangement are the ones who let the contract run down.
The words a physio says slowly. 112 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.
Brutal, unambiguous and, for all the horror of the moment, usually less career-shaped than the ligament everybody fears more. 92 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 PAOK this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
Fee agreed, terms agreed, medical booked. Issa Maréga will be somebody else’s player by the weekend, and around PAOK the goodbyes have quietly begun.
Squad11 Aug 2036
Yves Bissouma 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.
The words a physio says slowly. 119 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.
“I want to win things, and I would like to do it here.” Nothing has been demanded and nothing has been threatened — but a boardroom at PAOK hears a sentence like that exactly as it was built.
The clubs have agreed terms, and what remains is formality: a medical, a photograph, a signature. Nobody at PAOK is pretending he will be back in the shirt.
Christos Zafeiris 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.
Squad4 Aug 2036
Merlin Röhl 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.