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It felt like the world was falling down around him, it felt like the ceiling had fallen and nobody had told him to get out.
He hasn’t smoked in years. A small sense of relief flows over him when the packets open and the lighter’s in his hands. He can finally let go, he doesn’t have to fight it. He’s given in, the temptations no longer there because he’s given into it.
What was happening? The rug had been pulled out from under the team but not given them any instructions on how to get up.
The wall is cold and it comforts him.
Fans are streaming past and in that moment he wants nothing more than to disappear. Wishes he’d become a doctor, a lawyer, something anything that took him out of the public eye.
It felt like they were beginning to pick up some form but now they were back to before with Madrid at the Bernabeu in three days.
He exhales, filling the air with smoke.
“Boss? Where are you?” He hears Andy coming outside and winces. The team shouldn’t see him smoking again.
There’s nowhere that he can hide. “There you are.” Jurgen sighs, turning to face the smaller Scot.
Andy takes him in. Takes in the cigarette between his fingers, the melancholy in his eyes, the way he is leaning back against the wall.
“Wait since when did you start smoking again Gaffer?” Robbo asks, not moving as he watches Jurgen take a puff.
“Since we lost to another team that is going to get relegated.” Andy stands next to him, looking out at the away fans leaving.
“Don’t you want to go somewhere else? You don’t have to watch them.”
Jurgen looks on, “Yes I do.” His tone sounds so broken, Andy wonders what they have reduced this man too. Jurgen had done nothing wrong, Jurgen did not deserve to take all of this upon himself.
“It is not your fault that we were shit today. They wanted it more than we did. That’s on us as players not you as a coach…”
“Don’t blame yourself Andy. It’s not your fault.” Andy almost laughs at how Jurgen’s comforting him while hurting so badly.
“You are and it’s not yours.” Jurgen gives him a look that would turn one of the younger players into a pile of goo.
“If I was Fabio then that would work.” Andy laughs and feels Jurgen smile.
“I love watching the younger players be terrified of me. When I shout at any of you older players you just laugh at me.” Jurgen takes another drag of his cigarette.
“Give it time, you're 6 foot 4 and German is a very aggressive language. We were all terrified at the start. Soon they’ll realise that you're actually a teddy bear.”
Jurgen laughs and Andy smiles.
They were all hurting and they all needed to help each other. Liverpool was still a team off the pitch even as they looked less and less like they could form a functioning one on the pitch. Jurgen had comforted him so many times, he deserved it.