The calendar slowly crept toward the end of the year.
30 December 2023.
The Erovnuli Liga season had officially come to an end.
Dinamo Tbilisi had finished strongly, ending the campaign full of optimism, while clubs across Georgia began preparing for the new season.
The next league campaign wouldn’t begin until 28 February 2024.
Nearly two months remained.
For most footballers…
That meant one thing.
Rest.
Training facilities emptied.
Players travelled home to spend Christmas and New Year’s with their families.
Some booked holidays overseas.
Others simply enjoyed sleeping in without alarms.
Even Dinamo’s coaching staff encouraged everyone to disconnect from football.
One week.
That was all they had been given.
A week without training.
A week without pressure.
A week to recharge.
Giorgi Loria ignored it.
The morning after the season ended…
He was already back on the training pitch.
Not because anyone told him to.
Because he couldn’t imagine doing anything else.
A football rolled effortlessly beneath his feet as he dribbled between cones.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Every run became faster.
Every touch cleaner.
After sprint drills came shooting practice.
Then volleys.
Then free kicks.
Finally…
Conditioning.
His strict workout routine left his muscles burning.
Sweat soaked through his training shirt despite the cold winter air.
Still…
He wasn’t satisfied.
One more set.
Then another.
He repeated the same movement until it became instinct.
His father had always told him something he would never forget.
“Talent gets noticed.”
“Work gets remembered.”
Later that afternoon…
Charlotte Loria watched from the sidelines with folded arms.
Her son still hadn’t noticed her.
She smiled to herself.
“He really is his father’s son.”
Eventually, Giorgi finished another exhausting sprint before jogging toward the bench.
He reached for his water bottle.
Only then did he notice her.
“Mum?”
She waved cheerfully.
“Finished trying to destroy yourself?”
He laughed.
“Almost.”
She handed him a towel.
“You know…”
“My mother has been asking about you again.”
Giorgi immediately groaned.
“Oh no…”
Charlotte couldn’t help laughing.
“She wants you to spend New Year’s in England.”
“I know.”
Giorgi sighed.
“I love Grandma…”
“But if I go there…”
“I’ll spend an entire week being hugged, overfed and told how skinny I look.”
Charlotte burst into laughter.
“That’s probably true.”
“And every neighbour will suddenly want to meet me.”
“Definitely true.”
“And she’ll introduce me as…”
He put on an exaggerated English accent.
“This is my wonderful grandson, the football star!”
Mother and son laughed together.
Charlotte eventually shook her head.
“I told her you probably wanted to stay.”
“And?”
“She pretended to be upset.”
“But…”
Charlotte smiled knowingly.
“I think she understands.”
Giorgi looked back toward the empty pitch.
“I just want to train.”
“I know.”
A little while later…
They climbed into Charlotte’s silver Volvo.
As soon as Giorgi closed the passenger door…
He noticed something.
His mother looked unusually cheerful.
She was humming to herself.
Smiling.
Almost glowing.
He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
“What?”
“What?”
“You’ve been smiling for five minutes.”
“No, I haven’t.”
“You have.”
She laughed.
“Fine.”
“I’ve got some news.”
“What news?”
Charlotte glanced toward him.
“I arranged a meeting.”
“With who?”
She smiled even wider.
“Eric McCain.”
Giorgi blinked.
“…Who?”
She laughed.
“He was your father’s manager.”
Silence.
Then…
Giorgi stared at her in realization.
“Wait…”
“The Eric McCain?”
“The one who managed Dad during his Nottingham Forest years?”
Charlotte nodded proudly.
“He contacted me.”
“He said he’d been watching you.”
“And…?”
“He’d like to become your representative.”
Giorgi couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“When?”
“In three days, I arranged a meeting at a café in town.”
The teenager leaned back against his seat.
His heartbeat had quietly sped up.
His father’s old manager.
Someone who had known Nikoloz Loria before he was even born.
Wanted to work with him.
Three days passed surprisingly quickly.
The café sat quietly on a street near the centre of Tbilisi.
Nothing flashy.
Nothing expensive.
Exactly the sort of place where conversations mattered more than appearances.
Charlotte and Giorgi arrived a few minutes early.
A tall man in his late fifties soon entered.
Grey hair.
Sharp blue eyes.
A warm smile.
He immediately recognised Charlotte.
“It’s been far too long.”
“It has.”
They hugged briefly before Charlotte introduced him.
“Eric…”
“This is Giorgi.”
The Englishman extended his hand.
“So…”
“The famous young striker.”
Giorgi smiled before answering…
“დიდი პატივია თქვენი გაცნობა.”
Eric froze.
He looked at Charlotte.
His eyebrows lifted.
“I…”
He whispered.
“I don’t speak Georgian.”
Charlotte looked as though she might translate.
Instead…
Giorgi burst into laughter.
“Sorry.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It was a terrible joke.”
He switched effortlessly into perfect English.
“I just wanted to see your face.”
Eric blinked once.
Then laughed louder than anyone else in the café.
“Oh…”
“I like you already.”
The next hour passed almost unnoticed.
They talked about football.
About England.
About Georgia.
About Nikoloz.
Eric shared stories Giorgi had never heard before.
How his father had stayed behind after training to help youth players.
How he had once played ninety minutes with a broken finger because he refused to abandon his teammates.
“He wasn’t the loudest player.”
Eric smiled.
“But…”
“When he spoke…”
“Everyone listened.”
Giorgi listened carefully.
Every story felt like discovering another piece of his father.
Eventually, the conversation shifted.
Eric folded his hands.
“I won’t promise you the world.”
“I won’t tell you you’re already a superstar.”
“You’ve had three incredible matches.”
“But that’s all they’ve been.”
“Three matches.”
Giorgi nodded.
“What I can promise…”
Eric continued,
“…is honesty.”
“If you’re playing badly…”
“I’ll tell you.”
“If a club offers you the wrong move…”
“I’ll tell you.”
“If you’re ready for something bigger…”
“I’ll fight to get you there.”
The teenager didn’t need long to think.
He reached across the table.
“I’d like that.”
Eric smiled warmly.
“So…”
“We’re doing this?”
Giorgi shook his hand.
“We’re doing this.”
Charlotte watched quietly from the side.
For the first time in years…
She felt that Nikoloz would have approved of the man helping guide their son.
That same evening…
Across town…
An entirely different story dominated the news.
Dozens of cameras surrounded Dinamo Tbilisi’s headquarters.
Journalists crowded together outside the entrance.
Microphones.
Camera flashes.
Television vans.
The club’s new manager had arrived.
Klaus Zimmer.
Former manager of 1860 München.
A coach known throughout Germany for his discipline, tactical precision and demanding personality.
Many called him cold.
Others called him ruthless.
But very few questioned his ability.
He had guided an average 1860 München side out of the 3.
Liga.
Then, against all expectations, pushed them to the brink of promotion to the 2.
Bundesliga.
Now…
He was beginning a new challenge in Georgia.
Zimmer stepped onto the small stage prepared by the club.
His expression barely changed despite the cameras.
The club welcomed him.
Photographs followed.
Then came the questions.
“Coach Zimmer…”
“What attracted you to Dinamo Tbilisi?”
“The project.”
“The academy.”
“The ambition.”
Another reporter asked about his preferred formation.
He answered calmly.
A third asked about transfer plans.
Again…
Short.
Professional answers.
Then…
One young journalist raised his hand.
“Coach.”
The room quietened.
“Everyone is talking about sixteen-year-old Giorgi Loria.”
“Some supporters already call him a genius.”
“Will you build your attack around him next season?”
Zimmer paused.
Then…
He laughed.
Not cruelly.
Dismissively.
“Genius?”
He shook his head.
“I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves.”
The room became noticeably quieter.
“He played…”
“What?”
“Three matches?”
“A few good performances.”
“That’s all.”
Several reporters exchanged glances.
Zimmer continued.
“I prefer experienced players.”
“Veterans understand pressure.”
“They understand consistency.”
He folded his arms.
“And no…”
He smiled faintly.
“I won’t build my team around a sixteen-year-old with three senior appearances.”
A few reporters chuckled.
Others immediately began typing.
The headlines were already writing themselves.
By the time the press conference ended…
Sports websites across Georgia had exploded.
NEW DINAMO COACH PLAYS DOWN LORIA HYPE
KLAUS ZIMMER: “HE’S HAD THREE MATCHES.”
NO SPECIAL TREATMENT FOR THE TEENAGE STAR
Back at home, Giorgi knew nothing about it.
He had already finished another evening workout.
He was asleep before midnight.
Completely unaware that his new manager had publicly dismissed the idea of him being a genius.
Completely unaware…
That the first challenge of his new season had already begun, before he had even met the man.