Ole Gunnar Solskjær

Ole Gunnar Solskjær woke up early that morning, just as he had every other day. The sun had barely risen, casting a soft golden light through the curtains of his bedroom. He could hear the faint sound of birds chirping outside, a gentle reminder that life continued beyond the world of football. His wife, Silje, was already up, making breakfast in the kitchen. Their kids had already left for school, and the house was calm—peaceful, almost.

Ole took a moment to appreciate this brief moment of tranquility before the chaos of a matchday engulfed him. He sat at the breakfast table, a hot cup of coffee in hand, watching his wife move around the kitchen. She gave him a small, knowing smile as she set a plate of scrambled eggs in front of him.

"Busy day ahead?" she asked, already aware of the answer.

"Always," he replied, his voice tinged with both determination and exhaustion. "Just trying to keep things together at Manchester United. The team's been on a downturn lately, and honestly, the best we can do is fight for a top-four spot in the league at this point."

He let out a heavy sigh, his mind drifting to the previous matches, the disjointed performances, and the frustration that had been mounting with each passing game. Ole loved the club deeply, but it was clear that the players weren't quite where they needed to be. Some had shown flashes of brilliance, but overall, the squad lacked the consistency and quality that the likes of Manchester City, Liverpool, and Chelsea had at their disposal.

"We need new blood," he muttered, half to himself. "The squad isn't strong enough, and we're losing ground in the title race. I know we're still in the hunt for a top-four finish, but it's not going to be easy. We need something more."

He took a long drink from his coffee, staring out the window at the bustling city beyond, the noise of Manchester slowly creeping into his quiet morning.

"Hopefully, today will be better," he thought.

After a quick breakfast, Ole kissed Silje goodbye and left the house, heading straight for Carrington, the training ground. The drive was a familiar one, but today, his mind was heavy with the realization that the season was slipping away from him. He arrived at the office, the day already picking up speed as he walked into the club's training headquarters.

As he entered the building, a staff member caught his attention.

"Mr. Solskjær, the CEO is looking for you," the assistant said, a slight urgency in her voice.

"Right," Ole replied, feeling his stomach tighten at the mention of Woodward. "I'll head straight to his office."

Ole made his way down the corridor, his footsteps echoing in the otherwise quiet building. It was still early, but the office atmosphere was already charged with the usual pre-match preparations. The walls seemed to hum with the weight of the upcoming game, though Ole's mind was elsewhere. He had a lot on his plate, and these conversations with Woodward had become somewhat routine of late.

Entering the CEO's office, Ole found Ed Woodward seated behind his desk, his usual composed demeanor unwavering. Woodward greeted him with a sharp nod, his eyes betraying a slight tension in them.

"Morning, Ole," Woodward said, gesturing to the seat across from him. "How's everything looking with the team?"

"Morning, Ed," Ole replied, sitting down. "We're pushing forward, but it's clear that we've got work to do. It's been tough, and I'm not going to sugarcoat it. We're fighting for that top-four spot, and that's about all we can hope for at this point."

Woodward nodded, acknowledging the reality of the situation. "You're right. It's not ideal, but there's still time to make it count. At least we're not facing City this week, right?" he added, with a slight grin.

Ole smiled back, though it was tinged with a hint of weariness. "At least we face Derby County this time," he said, running a hand through his hair. "It's a good chance for us to boost the team's morale. A solid win would do wonders right now."

Woodward's face softened. "Agreed. A good result could really lift the mood. But let's not get ahead of ourselves. We've been on the wrong side of a few too many performances recently."

"That's the truth," Ole responded, his tone firm. "I just don't know how long we can keep this up. We need more quality—new players, and we need them soon."

Woodward leaned forward in his chair, looking at Ole intently. "I've been hearing a lot of talk about potential signings. What do you think? What do we need for next season?"

Ole exhaled slowly, gathering his thoughts. "For sure, we need a center-back. The defense is still too leaky for my liking. We need someone who can marshal the backline—someone with a presence. And most importantly, we need a goal-scorer. Someone who can finish consistently and take the pressure off of Bruno."

Woodward raised an eyebrow at the mention of Bruno. "Bruno has been a revelation since he came in. The impact he's had has been massive. But I get what you're saying—we need a player who can complement him. Someone who can finish chances and provide that clinical edge."

Ole nodded. "Exactly. Bruno has done wonders for the team, but he can't do it all alone. We need someone who can pick up the slack when he's not there. A striker, someone with that killer instinct."

Woodward smiled knowingly. "I've heard some rumors about a few players who might be available. Donny van de Beek, for example. I've also heard Cavani might be looking for a move."

Ole's eyes flicked toward Woodward. "Donny van de Beek? What's going on with him? Haven't seen much of him lately."

"Well, he's not getting the minutes at Ajax that he did before," Woodward explained. "And Cavani, he's always an option, but whether he'd fit into your system remains to be seen."

"Right," Ole replied, his mind turning over the possibilities. "We'll need to make a decision soon. But it's clear that for next season, we'll need a complete overhaul. We've got the pieces, but we're missing key components."

The conversation shifted to more immediate matters as Woodward informed Ole about Wayne Rooney's request to use Old Trafford for training before the match.

"Wayne wants to bring his team here for a light session," Woodward said, leaning back in his chair. "He wants them to get used to the pitch before the game."

"That's fine," Ole replied without hesitation. "It won't change anything. We've got to stay focused on the task at hand."

Woodward raised an eyebrow. "Speaking of which, there's a kid I've been hearing about. His agent sent us a mail about him not long ago. Apparently, this kid is super talented."

Ole looked at him curiously. "A kid? How did the agent even get to you? Shouldn't someone lower down the chain be handling that?"

Woodward chuckled lightly. "Yeah, you'd think. But they brought it straight to me. They're saying this kid has something special. Maybe we'll get to see him during tomorrow's match."

"Right," Ole said, not overly impressed but keeping an open mind. "I'll see what he's about."

The conversation continued, bouncing between match preparations and potential signings. As the meeting came to a close, Woodward left Ole with a final thought.

"We need to start thinking ahead, Ole. The next few months are crucial, but we can't afford to lose sight of the bigger picture."

Ole nodded, standing up. "Understood, Ed. Let's get through this season and make sure we finish strong."

As he left Woodward's office, Ole's mind was spinning with thoughts of both the present and the future. There was much to do, and while the upcoming match against Derby County was important, he knew that bigger decisions were looming on the horizon—decisions that would shape the club for years to come.

Later that day, as the team gathered for their practice session, Ole took a moment to reflect on his journey with Manchester United. The road ahead was uncertain, but he was determined to get things right. He had a responsibility to the club, to the fans, and most importantly, to the legacy of Manchester United.