Is the Team Doctor a Doctor?
Ding-!
"Director, a message just came in. Mind if I read it for a moment?"
"Of course."
Wonder if the Three Musketeers will show up for the Sunday event?
Most European professional clubs used pre-season weekends for fan engagement events. Sunderland had decided to set out plastic folding chairs and tables on the pitch at 6 p.m. on Sunday the 9th and host a dinner. Pre-season usually meant a training camp somewhere sunny like Portugal, but the operations team had locked in a Korea tour from 20 to 27 July.
End of July's going to be scorching. Players will have to do forty-five-minute shifts and rotate. And by then I really need the squad sorted to some degree…
Championship kick-off was Saturday 7 August; the transfer window closed at 23:00 BST on Tuesday 1 September.
Speakman broke the silence.
"Boss, shall we bring the scouts in now?"
"Yes! Send them in!"
Isaac entered with three casually dressed white men in their middle years. To Han Shin they looked like free spirits who had never once been told what to wear.
A man in his sixties, short-sleeved and short-trousered, ambled in with a soft chuckle.
"You two were debating Ferrari versus Lamborghini just now… Heh-heh-heh. Lifelong rivals—hard to pick a winner. Pleasure to meet you. Trumpberry Reginald. Call me Berry, please."
"Berry. Sounds a bit like a woman's name—easy to remember."
A warm-faced man with an orange moustache followed.
"History and tradition? Ferrari's got no equal. A tractor that can't even race F1…! Igor Bransky. Just call me Bran."
Bransky… Slavic naming. '-sky' means 'son of', so son of Bran. Pan-Slavic—Poland, Russia, Ukraine… Is this the scout who recommended Nazari?
A man whose stubble looked ready to reappear five minutes after a morning shave shot back at Bran.
"If Ferrari's curves, Lamborghini's pure straight-line power. If I were younger I'd be driving an Aventador for sure. Gilbert Graves, Boss. Gil's fine."
Han Shin filed their first impressions neatly: Berry the peacemaker, Bran the Ferrari man, Gil the Aventador.
"Welcome. So with Gil that makes four of you—is that the whole scouting department?"
Isaac answered.
"There were two more, but after Director Jocelyn's departure they both requested mutual termination."
The moment news of Jocelyn broke, the two scouts had walked.
Anyone connected cut ties cleanly. Four scouts—below league average, maybe…?
"Good to put faces to names. Sit, please—let's get straight into it."
Han Shin pulled the microphone closer.
"Ahem… Formal introductions. Han Shin, newly appointed first-team manager. We brushed past each other the other day; glad we can actually talk now."
"Heh-heh-heh, you're practically a celebrity. Star-level popularity, aren't you?"
"Is that so, Berry? Then since it's our first meeting, let me show you a celebrity-grade ice-breaker."
"Just like that? You're a fun one. Looking forward to it."
"So… among the staff, is the team doctor actually a doctor? How does a club even recruit physicians?"
"Pardon? Hahahaha!"
Even Speakman, who had heard the question beforehand, fought to keep a straight face. Bran actually wiped away tears.
"Well now… seeing how much you all love it, that ice-breaker was even more successful than I hoped."
"Guh… guh… Ahaha, right you are! No hesitation with the questions, eh?"
Bran scrubbed his eyes with his forearm.
"I was tense after hearing you booted Director Jocelyn in three days—this is something else! Hahaha!"
Gil corrected Han Shin's terminology.
"What you called the team doctor is usually a physiotherapist. We don't currently have a team physician—an actual medical doctor—on staff."
"Ah, I see. So Matthew Pearce, the man I met in the physio room outside the dressing room on day one, is our team doctor."
"He's our Head of Medical."
"Right."
"The medical staff aren't just there to treat injuries. They monitor the players' overall health, handle prevention, and—by getting close to the whole squad—play a huge role in psychological stability. They're central to helping every player hit peak performance."
"So we have three more physiotherapists under him."
"Correct. Hey Bran—Matthew got his degree at Glasgow Caledonian in Scotland, didn't he?"
"That's right. Sports physiology, about twenty years' experience."
Twenty years felt like an eternity to Han Shin.
"Twenty years…"
"Boss, have you had a massage from Matthew yet?"
Trumpberry—already branded 'Berry Berry Strawberry' in Han Shin's mind—asked.
"No. He told me to lie down for a check and I declined."
"Matthew gives the players full check-ups. First massage will hurt like hell, but you'll feel brilliant afterwards."
"My ankle and legs aren't great either—I should book one. Looking at the staff list, so no actual doctors on the books?"
"Big clubs with massive medical setups sometimes keep orthopaedic, cardiac or rehab specialists on site full-time."
"Right, the big boys…"
"Full-time contracts mean 365 days a year, huge salaries, and facilities to match—not easy. And compared with what a doctor can earn elsewhere, the pay is practically voluntary."
No wonder… passion pay.
"I know national teams have doctors on staff. How does that work?"
"Tournaments are short and compact, aren't they? Most of the time the players are at their clubs. So the doctors work in hospitals normally and only examine the squad when they're called up."
Gil added,
"A national-team physician stays in touch with the clubs during the season, tracking player condition from outside."
They call them team physicians.
"So how do you recruit a team physician? Just post a job advert?"
Berry, Bran and Gil all spoke at once.
"Scout doctors with experience at national teams or other pro clubs…"
"For physicians we use a closed network called the International Society of Football Medicine. It's full of football-specialist medical staff…"
"Mainly sports-medicine specialists. Sometimes we partner with university hospitals or sports clinics and get specialists seconded."
Scout other clubs, use the network, partner with hospitals. Got it.
"One thing's certain—you need at least ten years' experience working with football clubs before you'd be considered here."
"So you have to build it from youth level up."
In the end everyone has to rack up youth-team experience before they reach the senior side. I really am the odd one out.
Speakman slid his tablet across to Han Shin.
"Boss? When you reached the final we put out a call for the staff we were short on. Screening's finished—join me for the final interviews in three days."
"What? You could've told me sooner. Hang on… schedule."
Day before the Zenit match.
"There simply wasn't a moment. I meant to mention it at lunch, but you'd already gone off to prepare those materials."
"So what's the hiring process?"
"For physiotherapists we've contracted a specialist head-hunter, Sports Medical Recruit. They did the first cut of candidates."
"And then?"
"Head of Medical Matthew Pearce reviewed the CVs. Twenty down to ten. First-round video interviews with me, Jocelyn and Matthew left four finalists."
"How many are we taking?"
"One or two."
So with Jocelyn gone I'm the stand-in?
"What sort of questions do you usually ask? Not sure I should even be there."
"The chemistry between manager and medical staff is vital. After the coaches, the medical team are the people you talk to most—you have to be there."
"Ah, so it wasn't just because Jocelyn left."
"Of course not. They have to fit the team's spirit. Typical questions: 'Immediate response when a player suffers a knee injury mid-match,' or 'Rehab plan for a player returning from long-term injury.'"
"Obviously practical."
"Yes. Communication with the actual players matters too, so we run mock consultation sessions with a few of the lads. Even after selection there's a three-month probation—we'll watch their performance in real matches and training."
This much process just to hire one medical staffer… and somehow I became Sunderland manager. Still blows my mind. And what the hell was Jocelyn even doing?
Speakman went on to outline the rest of the support staff: the rehab coach who designed bespoke return-to-play programmes with the physios; the sports psychologist who looked after the players' mental health; and the sports-science team that analysed movement to cut injury risk and raise performance.
Wow… so many staff you never see on the pitch. When am I going to interview them all?
"Have you met the team manager and the kit man yet?"
"I saw the kit man briefly. Not the team manager."
Speakman explained, assuming Han Shin wouldn't know.
"The team manager is the bridge between the squad and the club. He handles the players' day-to-day needs and all the logistics for away games—hotels, transport, meal plans, kit management, training-ground prep, even room assignments."
"What kind of person do you hire?"
"Usually someone with long experience in the game—ex-players or coaches. You should meet Mr Smith. Interesting character."
"If the director calls him interesting… he must be a real character."
Berry, who had been listening quietly, timed his re-entry perfectly.
"Er… Boss, speaking of doctors…"
I only threw that out to lighten the mood and it turned into a full seminar. Then again, this is what a real meeting looks like. Who ever sticks strictly to the agenda?
Berry shared his knowledge.
"We don't have a full-time doctor on contract, so we consult physicians from partner hospitals and get regular check-ups. They also come in part-time for medical tests and various scans."
"I see."
"Head south to Picktree in Washington and you'll find Spire Washington Hospital. There's a doctor there named Wenzel who used to be our medical performance director."
Han Shin latched onto the word 'Washington'.
"Haven't been to Washington yet. The name feels odd—George Washington, first president of the United States, family origin and all."
"That's why it's twinned with Washington D.C. Used to be pure countryside until it was absorbed into Tyne and Wear."
"Sunderland's no metropolis either."
"Hahaha. Anyway, Dr Wenzel at Washington Hospital is an orthopaedic specialist. He was… well, Korea won the U-20 World Cup once, didn't they?"
The U-20 World Cup where Lee Kang-in took the Golden Ball…
"About nine years ago, I think."
"He was the team physician for the Korean youth side then—stuck in my mind. Gil! Am I remembering right? Dr Wenzel."
"Sounds right. Grandad's memory's still sharp."
Through the exchange Han Shin realised the two men had been with the club a long time.
"Small world. Unexpected, but the Korea connection is fascinating."
"Isn't it?"
"I doubt I'll need many check-ups myself, but now I almost want to go meet him. Right then…"
He tapped the desk for attention.
"Time to hear your professional expertise."
Bran whistled.
"Woooow—Boss, you run a meeting smoother than silk."
"You don't need to butter me up like that!"
"Hahaha!"
Han Shin opened fire.
"My absolute top priority was a top-class centre-back to replace Ballard after his transfer request, plus an outstanding striker."
"Past tense…"
Berry caught the verb.
"Yes—it's changed. This season our transfer budget, after wage considerations, is about thirty-five million pounds."
"What??!!"
The figure hadn't even reached the scouting team yet. Everyone was stunned—especially given that a rookie head coach who still didn't know his own coaching staff had been handed full managerial authority.
Han Shin tossed out a light joke.
"I'd love to pool the whole thirty-five million and ring Harry Kane right now."
Isaac, knowing full well Kane would never come, still pointed it out.
"Boss, I know you wouldn't, but that would be tapping up. Approaching a player without the clubs discussing or agreeing first is illegal."
"Tapping up? Isn't it tempering?"
"Nah, tempering's the American term. Over here it's tapping up."
Tapping up meant trying to persuade a contracted player to move without his club's permission.
"Got it."
"Even in interviews, just saying 'I'd love to have so-and-so' can get you fined, so be careful."
Gil twirled his pen.
"Publicly expressing respect for a player is technically tapping up too—plenty of clubs do it shamelessly."
Han Shin remembered the old days when Barcelona's DNA talk had been mocked online as the greediest club on earth.
Back in the Three Stooges era, when Barça were at their peak, Xavi gifted Cesc a shirt and told him to come to the Camp Nou…
"Anyway, better not talk about other clubs at all."
"Still, the people on the ground all have their channels—they make contact quietly."
The director shot Bran a look.
"Industry practice or not… Bran, get caught and it poisons transfer talks—or worse, ends in court."
Han Shin asked,
"So you gentlemen travel out yourselves and evaluate the players."
"That's right."
"But how do you assess players in overseas or obscure leagues? It's not like a game where the stats just pop up."
Isaac proudly opened the laptop bearing Han Shin's signature and spun the screen around.
"Boss, this is Wyscout—the football video-data platform we use. You can watch data and match footage for players all over the world."
"Oh, brilliant! Never seen this before."
Han Shin peered at the screen with genuine curiosity. Every national flag of every football-playing country on Earth was displayed.
"Show me how it works."
"Sure. Let's click the Korean flag."
"It's called the Taegeukgi."
"Teggi?"
"Tae-geuk-gi."
Han Shin corrected the pronunciation.
"Taegeukgi."
"Nice."
"Click it and you get national-team matches and data, plus player highlights sorted by K League club."
"Oh… shall we look at FC Seoul—the side we're playing a friendly against?"
Clicking the FC Seoul crest brought up a grid of player portraits.
"Right… try Lee Cheol-su, the forward."
"Yes!"
Selecting Lee Cheol-su filled the right side of the screen with finely categorised highlights—goals, assists, set-pieces—while the left listed face, age, position, appearances, goals, assists, even expected goals.
To Han Shin's eyes it looked uncannily like the old World FM interface that had been discontinued.
Did they copy it? Which came first—this or FM?
Isaac continued.
"Click any clip you want… say, a goal."
A one-minute sequence of Lee Cheol-su scoring from distance in the league played.
"Wow, that's perfect. Quality like this can't be free."
"Subscription model. The club has a separate licence. You'll get a login for your own computer."
"Should've handed this out on day one. Anyway, can't wait. I've only been hunting highlights on YouTube."
"We watch YouTube too! Longer videos with proper analysts and editors are gold when you're scouting someone overseas."
Last night I was sat in the office digging through YouTube… and this existed the whole time. Absolute game-changer!!!
Isaac tapped the keys and a detailed player profile appeared.
"There's a forward I'm interested in. Twenty goals in League One last season."
"Twenty in the third tier. The more I look at this, the more it feels like a game screen."
"Doesn't it?"
Han Shin remembered the old Genie Scout tool he used to run alongside FM.
"You know Genie Scout? Used it a lot back in the day when I played FM. This is basically the evolved version."
"Vaguely. They probably borrowed interface ideas from each other. Want to look at a Belgian-league player?"
"One of your recommendations, Isaac?"
"Pretty much."
Matteo Vanderbruggen? Right wing-forward…
Han Shin watched the highlights intently.
"Movement's not bad."
"Right? Thirty games, eleven goals, nine assists for Royal Antwerp. Outstanding off-the-ball movement—finds space between defenders brilliantly."
Pace, finishing… I'm going to be up all night with this.
Speakman nodded, then asked,
"Injury history?"
Isaac typed again.
"Transfermarkt… a few minor knocks, but no long-term absences."
The director explained for Han Shin's benefit.
"Transfermarkt is a site for transfer info and market values, Boss."
"I've looked at it occasionally—didn't realise actual clubs use it."
As the German name suggested, it was a transfer-specialist site based in Hamburg.
"It was built for clubs to look at. Plenty of inaccurate data, so we treat it as reference only. There's SmarterScout too…"
Gil, who trusted numbers least, cut in.
"Boss, these are just tools. Actually watching the player and making the call is our job. Data alone can't tell you character or squad fit."
"Of course. But being able to study traits from home is handy—I'll use it lightly."
Han Shin pointed at the screen.
"This lad's finishing looks sharp, but if we sign him he might clash with Bellingham for space. Can we check heat maps or anything?"
Speakman nodded.
"Good question. Isaac, pull up the StatsBomb data?"
Isaac opened another programme.
"Here. StatsBomb gives heat maps and all sorts of reports. He likes cutting in from the right into central areas."
Han Shin tilted his head.
"So he could collide with our attacking midfielder."
Isaac asked,
"Looks that way. By the way, Boss—when you played World FM, which attributes did you look at first?"
"It's a game, so potential was number one. Then whether the attributes were properly distributed for the position. And the injury proneness the director just mentioned."
Han Shin could talk FM all day, but he had answered the same question a thousand times, so he kept it brief.
"In regular FM potential went up to 200, right?"
"Yeah, World FM works differently. I only checked potential when I was researching—hardly ever otherwise. Real players don't have it, which is a shame."
Bran, moustache twitching from sitting still too long, asked,
"So have you decided on the release list?"
"I plan to wait until after the Liverpool game at the latest, but the sooner the better."
"Names, please."
He produced a cheap ballpoint that looked like it cost fifty pence from a stationery shop and prepared to write.
"Luke O'Nien, Adil Aouchiche, Patrick Roberts, Nazari Rusyn, Huggins, Jenson Seelt, Nektarios…"
Han Shin reeled them off like a shopping list.
"Hang on! Hang on! You're releasing seven…"
"No—there's more. You've given me a decent budget, so I'm overhauling the squad."
Berry stretched.
"Urrrgh, I need an energy drink for this."
"An old man drinking that? You'll end up in hospital."
"What was that, Bran?!"
Bran, having needled Berry, turned back to Han Shin.
"Anyone else besides Ballard asked for a transfer?"
"No, not yet."
Even if I put them up for sale, they won't be easy to shift.
"And the ones you absolutely want to keep?"
"Anthony, Clarke, Bellingham, Chris, Dan Neil, Abdullahi… room for improvement there."
"And?"
"Håkon and Romaine as squad players. The rest of the defence… if I had to pick one it'd be Dennis, but he's injured. Everyone else can go."
Berry exhaled deeply.
"Phew… is this the boss's grand plan or a club liquidation?"
"Midfield's solid enough—just need a major rebuild up front and at the back."
Bran snorted at the answer.
"Boss, isn't that just 'football is a game you win by being good at attack and defence'?"
"But that's the essence of the game, isn't it? Right then—shall we all scout the world from this little room?"