#pete krawietz

[live-laugh-loverpool]

Making Today A Perfect Day

Hey guys, glad to be posting! The idea for this fic is partially based off something I experienced before.

Tags: @millythegoat, @alissonbecksfan234, @moomin279, @rubybecker-rb2

Warnings: mentions of loss of a parent, angst

 

Lijnders woke up at 7:02 AM, the same time he woke up almost every ordinary day. Today, though, was no ordinary day. Today was January 24--Lijnders' fortieth birthday--a milestone for every person his age. For some it meant reaching true maturity, while for others it meant the dreaded "midlife crisis" was fast approaching. Naturally, due to these opposing views, everybody celebrated their fortieth differently. Those who took getting older in stride would celebrate jubilantly, while those who were more self-conscious about their gray hairs had quieter celebrations.

Unlike both of those cohorts and many others, Lijnders wouldn't be celebrating at all. Because his birthday happened to be exactly five days after the day Klopp's mother passed away from illness.

In 2021, Liverpool had a game on the 24th of January, away at United. They ended up losing and getting knocked out of the FA Cup, so there were no big celebrations anyways. Klopp had surprised Lijnders with a small present--a new wristwatch—and a card.

In 2022, the team had been in London. They'd just finished beating Crystal Palace the previous day, and hadn't really had time to throw a proper party with the flight home and everything. Klopp and Lijnders had enjoyed a beer on the veranda after getting home, watching the stars for hours before finally heading to bed.

But now Liverpool had no games on or around January 24. So Lijnders had no excuse to "forget" or "not focus" on his birthday now. He didn't want to make it all about him--he wanted to let Klopp have some time to himself.

So he got out of bed, dressed in his usual jeans and gray shirt, and shuffled out of the bedroom. He would get to work soon enough, but first he needed coffee.

*

When he reached for the strongest cup of coffee the machine had available, Lijnders had expected the normal greetings: "good morning" or "are you really getting that strong coffee” or “happy birthday” considering the date. What Lijnders hadn't expected was Krawietz completely putting his foot in his mouth.

“Happy birthday, man! When's the party?”

Lijnders nearly dropped his coffee--a rarity for him. "Excuse me?"

"Your birthday party," Krawietz explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "What's the theme? Do I have to wear a boring black suit or can I break in my new Hawaiian shirt?"

Lijnders exhaled, trying his very best not to explode. Krawietz had been affectionately nicknamed "The Eye" by the other staff, but he didn't exactly seem to have an eye for when to apply some tact. "There will be no party."

"No party?!" Krawietz exclaimed. "Come on Pep, this is the third year in a row there'll be no party for you! It doesn't seem fair to me."

"You know why we didn't party in 2021," Lijnders took a sip of his coffee to try and calm himself down. "And last year we won, but we flew back from London and came home late."

"But we're staying put this time. So what's your excuse now, Pep?" Krawietz raised an eyebrow like Ancelotti, studying Lijnders intently.

He knows something's up. No point in hiding it. "There's a specific reason why I'm not celebrating my birthday, Pete. And the reason's initials are JK."

This only seemed to confuse Krawietz even further. "Jurgen loves celebrations."

How oblivious could Krawietz be?! Lijnders slammed his coffee cup onto the table. "You DO remember what happened in 2021, right?! You do remember that Jurgen's only living parent for twenty years died five days before I turned thirty-eight?! Sorry if I'm the only one who's considerate of my best friend's feelings."

"We all are. But it's been two years," Krawietz objected. "If I'm right, Jurgen wouldn't mind too much if we had a party."

"He and his mom were like two peas in a pod."

"He also wouldn't want you to skip a milestone birthday for him."

Lijnders huffed, spinning on his heel and storming out of the room. "Excuse me, but I'm going to find somebody who actually cares about Jurgen like I do."

*

Lijnders finished his coffee in three gulps instead of two, immediately going for another refill. He actually drank less coffee when he was mad--and right now he was seething.

"Does Pete have no tact?!" he exclaimed to the trusty wall in front of him. "Losing a parent, that has to be one of the worst moments of somebody's life. Especially since Jurgen and his mother were so close--they got along perfectly. Can't he realize this?!"

"Whoo?"

"Pete, who do you think?!"

Another shrill hoot sounded from around the door, and that's when Lijnders realized nobody was in the room at all. Rather, he was talking to an owl--Klopp's owl, Ludger.

No matter how much Ludger hooted at him, Lijnders didn't even bother to try and communicate with the owl. That was Klopp's domain--and Ludger got along better with Klopp, anyways. When he wasn't hooting his head off, Ludger resided in Klopp's office, vibing to his own personal playlist.

Lijnders then realized that if Ludger was out of his cage, then Klopp was probably nearby. I'd better get to breakfast before Pete runs into me again, he thought, making his way down the stairs. Unlike Klopp, Lijnders had no issues with the stairs.

*

Breakfast was...slightly interesting, considering Robertson and Alexander-Arnold had made breakfast. The two weren't exactly great cooks, and so had resorted to serving breakfast buffet-style, collecting a melange of leftover breakfast foods and letting everybody serve themselves.

Lijnders quickly served himself, taking his seat at the other end of the table. Klopp wasn't at the table, much to his surprise, leaving him in charge by de facto.

"Where's the gaffa?" Robertson asked through a mouthful of food. "He'll miss the potato scones."

"They're hash browns, Andy. HASH BROWNS." Milner shook his head, stabbing at a sausage. "I know you miss your Scottish food, but honestly I don't see why."

Robertson's glare could've burnt metal. "I'll have you know that my mum is an excellent cook of our Scottish cuisine."

"You mean potatoes and oatmeal. That's all you cook!"

"We also make haggis!"

"That's not food, that's an old boot stewed with sheep's heart!"

"It's called recycling!"

"Boys!" Lijnders blew on the whistle that he carried around for things like this. Eventually everybody settled down. "Leave it be. If Jurgen’s late, then Jurgen will be late.”

“Still, it’s not like the boss to miss breakfast. Especially on birthdays!” Alexander-Arnold argued. “Can’t we go check on him, just to make sure he’s alright? Please, Lijnders?”

For a moment, Lijnders was about to give in to Alexander-Arnold's huge brown eyes. Then he thought about Klopp...

Lijnders quietly padded into the room. It was four o'clock in the afternoon, but he didn't want to disturb Klopp. The German was curled up in his office chair, a quilt draped around his shoulders. The laptop and papers in front of him remained largely untouched, as they had for most of the day.

The events of the past few days had robbed Lijnders of his best friend, leaving behind a numb, empty shell. Klopp's usual vibrancy and life had vanished, and he'd seemed to age more rapidly in five days than he had in five years.

They'd been through so much together--losing major finals, injuries, bad press. He'd never seemed this broken before.

Wordlessly, Lijnders set a new mug of hot chocolate on the desk. It would probably end up cold, but it was the thought that mattered.

The muffled thunk of the mug seemed to alert Klopp of Lijnders' presence. He glanced up at Lijnders, who could say nothing except, "I dropped some extra chocolate in there."

It seemed to be the most pathetic, futile, unimportant thing in the wake of such a tragedy. But Klopp pulled the mug closer to himself, clasping Lijnders' hand.

"Danke, Pepijn.”

Lijnders came out of his reverie, glancing at the clock. They had two hours before the day's training began. "I still don't think we should disturb him, Trentski. Why don't you all hang out and get ready for training?"

"That's right!" Robertson exclaimed. "After all, we don't want to skip Plan L, right?"

The other players and staff at the table nodded cryptically, as if they had a secret. Lijnders didn't even bother asking about it. He had no time to interpret secrets--the only thing he had to interpret was the training plans Klopp had written in advance.

*

Lijnders sat at his desk, scanning the plans for that day’s training. Nothing had changed on the plans at all—in fact, they looked like the same plans from the day before. That’s because they are the same plans, Lijnders realized with a start. Jurgen didn’t even write new plans. And they look so normal—there’s nothing having to do with Thiago and a ball cannon!

Because the plans weren’t new, Lijnders decided that he would just relax before training started. He would pour himself a cup of coffee, and maybe treat himself to something from the cafeteria.

He stood in front of the pastry display for a long time before finally selecting a Dutch apple tart. It was covered with clotted cream and apple filling and would probably add a few pounds onto him, but it was worth it.

“Pep!” Krawietz strode through the door, exaggerating his walk with a few comically-failed high kicks. “So what colors are the balloons going to be, huh? Red, or black, what do you think?”

“Invisible color, please,” Lijnders retorted, turning his back on the Pole. Normally he got along with Krawietz, but this was getting ridiculous. “Leave me alone now, Pete.”

“You should go easy on the apple tart,” Krawietz went on, swiping some of the pastry from Lijnders’ plate. “We’re going to have a buffet later today at your birthday party.”

“Will you just shut UP?!” Lijnders yelled, taking back his dessert. “You know very well why I’m not celebrating my birthday—I just told you earlier. That’s also why I’m trying to get everybody to forget by not blabbing about it every minute!”

“You can’t make everybody forget your birthday because Jurgen’s mom died five days before!”

“It’s called empathy, you idiot!”

“And for the first year or two, it’s fine. But there has to be a time to move on, right?”

“Well…”

Krawietz huffed, setting down the plate of dessert. “Don’t worry, Pep. I’m going to have a conversation with Jurgen about this, and then we can get on with Plan L.”

Oh, how Lijnders wanted to slam a fist into Krawietz’s face now. “Do not loop Jurgen into your mess!”

“My mess?! YOU’RE the one who started this!”

“What in the Bundesliga is going on here?”

Lijnders groaned, silently wishing that he could disappear into thin air. “I think we need to talk.”

*

Lijnders had worried about what Klopp would say to all the brouhaha, especially considering the nature of it. His concerns had only increased once Klopp directed both him and Krawietz to his office.

“So, let me get this straight.” Even after hearing both sides of the story, Klopp still appeared calm. He’d let Krawietz go back to his activities, but had retained Lijnders. “You wanted to skip your own birthday party because you thought it would make me feel better?”

Lijnders shrugged, unsure what to say. “Well, the first time we already had a game the next day. And then the second time we were flying back from London, so…I decided to give you some breathing room.”

“Pep.” Klopp hesitated for a bit before going on. “I never told you that we’re skipping your birthday. I never, ever said that.”

“I know you didn’t. I just thought it would be for the best.”

Klopp walked around the desk, motioning for Lijnders to stand up. The Dutchman hadn’t even been up for half a second before Klopp engulfed him in one of his trademark bear hugs.

“Pete really put his foot in his mouth today, that’s for sure. But I will tell you one thing that he got right: you are worth celebrating every day of the year. Especially on your birthday; that’s the day the world blessed us with you, after all.”

“I wasn’t intending to skip it entirely,” Lijnders confessed, kicking at the ground. “Just the party, and whatever Plan L is.”

“Pepijn Lijnders.” Klopp rolled his eyes in mock exasperation, rummaging through his desk drawer. He triumphantly pulled out a sheet of paper, showing it to Lijnders. “Plan L is your birthday party. And it was my idea.”

“What?!”

“You look like you though we weren’t planning anything at all,” Klopp joked. His expression grew serious, yet gentle. “You’re a thoughtful soul to think so unselfishly. I’m returning the favor, by celebrating you.”

Lijnders hadn’t thought of it that way. “I’m sorry for all the trouble I caused.”

“It happens.” Klopp opened the office door, letting in all the chaos of the Kirkby Ground. “Now let’s get to training, shall we?”

*

Everybody was out for training exactly on time. As was the team’s custom, they sang the birthday song in every one of the languages the staff and players spoke. That included German, which several of the players knew despite not being from Germany, and Dutch.

Lijnders and Klopp stuck together through the whole training session, giving orders and directives as usual. And when, after training everybody blindfolded Lijnders and dragged him to a dark room, he pretended not to know what was inside.

[live-laugh-loverpool]

AYO???

Zeljko Buvac may have buggered off and deserted him at the worst possible time, but Peter Krawietz is staying loyal to Kloppo 😎

I recon he deserves a photo set!

[stateofsport211]

RG MD R3: Stefanos Tsitsipas/Petros Tsitsipas def. Manuel Guinard/Gregoire Jacq [Alt] 7-6(2), 6-2 Match Stats

📸 Eurosport GB

The Tsitsibros had a solid start to this match while M. Guinard/G. Jacq tried to raise their game midway the first set, but the tie-breaker cost them as soon as Pete gained some range from the baseline, with Stef following suit thanks to his solid singles game, which tend to be more baseliner nowadays. This way, they brought M. Guinard/G. Jacq off-balance from the way the latter pair hit, which resulted in the Greek pair dominating the flow at the second set. As a result, even though the alternates had a 100% break point conversion rate from the middle of the first set, the Tsitsibros generated 4 break points throughout both sets, optimizing them by converting 75% of them, most of which came from the second set.

Furthermore, the Tsitsibros also had a more consistent service game as the match progressed. Even though they only landed 60% of their first serves, they optimized it to win 20% more of their first serve points than the French alternates, which got them out of several problems midway as they got more solid in the second set than when setting this match up with an assistant od their only ace. On the other hand, M. Guinard/G. Jacq had more problematic second serves as they only won 41% of their second serve points, 20% lower than the Greek brothers as they lost their balance in the second set, with double-faulting twice that did not help them sustain in this match.

In tomorrow's quarterfinals, where this became the only backlog of the top half of the Men's Doubles draw (partly due to the earlier rain delays), to strengthen their Olympic place confirmation in the Men's Doubles sector, the Tsitsibros will face ninth seeds Marcelo Arevalo/Mate Pavic, who stunned the German sixth seeds, Kevin Krawietz/Tim Puetz in two tight tie-breaker sets, 7-6(3), 7-6(5). Knowing both players' balance of power, this would test the Tsitsibros' game regarding timing in execution, putting the ball in as more frequently as possible while trying not to get outhit. Considering the ninth seeds' doubles experience in the bigger stage, this could be a tough ride, but who knows!

[beritadarianfield]

“You know it better than I do! Thirty years ago… 30 years ago… I was 23, so I didn’t think too much about winning a title with Liverpool, to be honest! I had no skills for that! Thirty years later I am here and because of the great staff I have, it is unbelievable. Tonight, you see them all together. What Ray [Haughan] did organisational wise, what Mona [Nemmer] did food wise and with nutrition is amazing. What Korny [Andreas Kornmayer] did on a fitness level, what Pep Lijnders did and put into this game, there is so much of his soul in our game now in this short period. It is unbelievable. Pete [Krawietz]… wow… what a… I couldn’t thank them all more. Vitor [Matos] came in and he has lost one game since he is in. Unbelievable.” . “The youth, the players, Neco Williams would not be in this moment or the position he is, or Curtis, or Harvey or now Leighton coming up and Jake Cain coming up, they would not be in this position if Vitor is not here. John [Achterberg] and Jack [Robinson], it is a joy to work with them together every day. It is for Danielle, my PA who I didn’t see for three-and-a-half or four months but she is working her socks off and suffers so much. It is for everybody. It is for Mike [Gordon], Tom [Werner] and John [Henry], our owners in America. We couldn’t reach other, I have 20 calls and them probably as well because I couldn’t catch him so far. It is for everybody; they all put so much effort into it and I am the lucky guy who sits in the seat in this moment and… can be part of this story, it’s so great it is unbelievable.” . #champ19ns #Liverpool #lfc #ynwa #klopp #premierleague #championsleague #ucl #Repost @klopp0gram https://www.instagram.com/p/CB4OC0agS_U/?igshid=qow1agxne3cx

[live-laugh-loverpool]

He's in for it now...

Tags: @millythegoat, @alissonbecksfan234, @moomin279, @lfc-fanfiction

Note: part of this will only make sense if you read this previous fanfic of mine, "A Little Kid".

3 Times Klopp Was Clumsy + 1 Time They Caught It On Camera

John Achterberg wasn’t exactly sure if he liked the new manager. After just four days of Klopp’s presence, most of the coaching staff had immediately warmed up to him. But Achterberg hadn’t—to him, Klopp was just the cherry on the cake of too many changes.

As if bringing his bespectacled German self to the Merseyside wasn’t enough, Klopp brought along two more coaches that Achterberg thought were just plain weird. Sure, he could stand Zeljko Buvac, as the Bosnian usually kept to himself. But Pete Krawietz kept blasting Polish music from his Sonos speakers and it was driving him crazy!

And Klopp himself was…strange. He called his players “the boys”, his idea of choosing rondo partners involved a Wheel Of Fortune style spinning wheel and a black felt top hat, and he’d managed to get lost in Melwood six times in forty-eight hours.

As if he’d heard Achterberg thinking about him, Klopp sauntered towards the coffee machine with a ridiculously happy-go-lucky grin. Klopp flat-out refused to drink black coffee like the rest, and so he reached for the creamer that had until now remained untouched.

“Oh, what is it now?” Achterberg found it hard to understand why Klopp always seemed so happy. To him, England was too full of United fans to smile that much. “Did you win a secret Ballon d’Or or something? Or do you think United donated all their Premier League titles to us? Because you’re wrong.”

“That’s not what I’m smiling about.” Klopp spotted an empty spot next to Achterberg. Much to the goalkeeping coach’s chagrin, he took it, leaning against the table. “I’m just thinking about how good this coffee is going to taste, and how great it is to be here with Pete and Zeljko, and how wonderful it is now that the sun came out and it’s shining through those…goalkeepers?”

Achterberg facepalmed, staring into his coffee cup. “Leaves?”

“Yes, leaves! I knew it started with an L!” Klopp pumped his fist in the air, grinning like a Chesire cat. In the process, he knocked over his coffee cup, spilling hot coffee onto the floor and his sneakers. “OH, SCHEISSE!”

Achterberg winced at the giant brown stain on the rug, taking a couple of steps back. “I can get you some napkins,” he offered, for the sake of courtesy.

“Oh, no, it’s fine. I’ll get some!” Klopp tried to make his way to the table holding the napkins. But then he slipped on some coffee—the only coffee puddle on the entire floor—and landed on his backside. “Oof! Scheisse.”

“That was the only coffee puddle on the whole floor!” Achterberg couldn’t hold back his laughter as he picked up the coffee cup. “How’d you manage to slip in it?”

“I don’t know! All I know is that was not what I meant.” Klopp tried to get off the ground, but as soon as he was halfway up, he fell down again. “Could I get some Hilfe here?”

“Is that a made-up English word?” Achterberg guessed, extending his left hand and pulling Klopp off the floor. “Yikes, you’re heavy.”

Klopp shook his head. “No, I think Hilfe means hills in English. Or haddock, or herring, or hammock, or…”

“Help?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Klopp got to his feet, only to fall for the third time. “Could I get some of that help thing now?”

Achterberg sighed, rolling his eyes. “You’re lucky that coffee cup is styrofoam.”

*

“Ooh, what’s that, Zeljko?” Klopp asked the Bosnian. The two had been unpacking Buvac’s stuff, and it turned out Buvac had a lot of things Klopp had never seen before.

“Jurgen, that’s the ninth time you’ve said that in ten minutes.” But Buvac fondly rolled his eyes, holding up the object in question. “This is a genuine Venetian hand-blown glass vase. It was a present from a friend of mine.”

Klopp’s eyes widened, his gaze fixated on the colorful treasure. “Can I carry it up the stairs?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jurgen,” said Buvac. He gulped as he thought of all the scenarios that could happen. “Ever since our playing days, you’ve been the clumsy one of us two.”

“I’ll be careful this time!” Klopp insisted, taking the box that contained the vase. “I promise! It’s in its wrapper, how much harm can I do to it?”

“You were never good at predicting the future, Jurgen.”

“And the ayes have it! I’m bringing it up there!”

“You mean the aye,” Buvac argued, carrying his own box of stuff in his hands. “You’re the only one that agreed to this plan!”

“Oh, Pete is the eye.” Klopp opened the door, starting to take the stairs. He took them four by four, the five boxes he carried shifting precariously with each step. The box on top, holding the vase, moved the most. “I’m the heart, and you’re the brain—oh, crap!”

One of Klopp’s shoelaces had come undone, hanging over the sides. Klopp, being the klutz he was, tripped on them, falling down the stairs and dropping the boxes.

“Jurgen!” Buvac ran over to his friend, currently stranded at the bottom of the stairs. “Are you okay?”

“I’m…semi okay. Maybe I have a bump or bruise…or nine.” Klopp nodded towards the only box he’d still managed to hold. “But I protected the vase! I think it’s safe now.”

Buvac opened the box and checked the vase. Indeed, it was still intact, nestled in old newspaper. “I can’t believe it. You’re still in one piece.”

“Yeah, is the vase?”

Buvac shook his head in disbelief. “Jurgen, you are a marvel.”

*

“It’s fine, Ludger!” Klopp insisted for what felt like the fourth time. “I’m just going to check on the boys.”

“Whoo,” the owl hooted, silently flying above Klopp.

“Okay, so I might be going there for the little baby girl the Brazilians brought here. But honestly, is there an issue with that?”

“Whoo, whoo, whoooo.”

Klopp silently opened the door to the bedroom that his players shared. Sleeping with Alisson in his hammock, was baby Lilia.

“Oh, she’s so cute!” Klopp’s voice walked a thin tightrope between a whisper and a shout. “Isn’t she, Ludger?”

Ludger didn’t even answer, flying onto the couch and remaining there, face turned to the wall. If there were subtitles from Ludger’s thoughts, they would say, Ludger doesn’t do kids, in neon lights.

Klopp frowned when he realized just how much Alisson had bundled up Lilia. He tried to untangle the blankets, but then he tripped over Lilia’s peach blanket, falling to the ground.

“Whoooooo!” Ludger screeched from the corner, as if to say “you’re lucky you didn’t pull down the hammock”.

“Indeed I am,” Klopp agreed. He scrambled back to his feet before gingerly removing Lilia from Alisson’s side. Holding her tightly, Klopp somehow managed to stay upright as he cradled the sleeping toddler.

“Nothing’s gonna get to you now,” he whispered, brushing a wayward curl away. “I’m going to protect you. I promise.”

He laid Lila back in the hammock before tripping over Robinson’s shoe.

*

“Come on boys!” Klopp shouted over the increasing Anfield din. He made his way to the touchline. “We are Liverpool and this means more!”

“Oh wow, I had no idea!” Milner retorted from the bench. “Even though I’ve played here for years, I never knew this was Liverpool.”

“Come on, Milly! We’ve got this! We beat City, we beat Ajax, we beat—OOF!”

Much to Milner’s delight, Klopp’s speech got cut short when he tripped over what seemed like thin air, nearly crashing into the dugout. Fortunately, he managed to get himself upright, trying to walk away as if nothing had happened.

“Well, that speech lasted long,” Lijnders joked once Klopp finally made it to the touchline. “This will be a good headline for my next book: ‘Jurgen’s Clumsiness Strikes Again.’ What do you think?”

Klopp ignored him, focusing on his shoelaces. They were tied neatly with the ends tucked in, so how did he manage to trip? “Maybe that was part of the speech.”

“Well, then.” Lijnders grinned, anticipating the upcoming reactions. “Galaxy Sports caught that part of the speech very well.”

Klopp groaned, pulling his hat even lower. “Ach Gott, the media caught that?”

“It won’t be so bad…” Tsimikas grinned like a Chesire cat, leaning forward from the row behind him. “Right, Joel?”

“Right!” Matip wore the same grin, the hints of mischief in his eyes clearly announcing his intent. “It’ll just be all over the radio, newspapers, television and Internet.”

A barely audible “scheisse” came from the front row.

“We did it, man!” Tsimikas cheered, high-fiving Matip. “Mission accomplished!”

“Indeed, man.” Matip glanced at the space under the seats ahead of them, stuffed with all kinds of cleaning products and rags. “Now we just need to find a way to remove that hair gel from the touchline…”

for the love of god jurgen, be careful, we don't need any more injuries 😭

[lmb15]

Nun gab es die Chance, in einem klar abgesteckten finanziellen Rahmen einen Spieler zu holen, der relativ schnell funktionieren kann. Logischerweise muss Kevin bei uns alles erst noch im Detail kennenlernen. Die Spielweise liegt ihm aber ein Stück weit im Blut. Er hat das Gegenpressing-Spiel und die Ballsicherheit verinnerlicht. Dies zusammen mit der personellen Situation - Marco Reus wird erst nach und nach wieder fit, Henrikh Mkhitaryan wird dies erst Ende Januar sein und dann sicherlich eine gewisse Zeit lang brauchen, Shinji Kagawa ist beim Asien Cup - waren die Gründe für seine Verpflichtung.

Pete Krawietz über die Gründe des Kampl-Transfers

[live-laugh-loverpool]

The Supernaturals: Željko Buvač

Tags: @millythegoat, @alissonbecksfan234, @rubybecker-rb2, @moomin279

He could vanish into thin air.

Željko Buvač had always been quiet for his age. Ever since he was little, he would walk into rooms and nobody would notice him, leaving him free to soak up all the things the world offered to him. Just like the sponge in the kitchen (which he'd learned at five was an animal from the sea), or cereal in his bowl (which, at eight, he'd figured out got soggy because of all the holes in it, ready to drink HIS milk). It wasn't just given facts that he could remember; young Željko could deduce things easily from very little given information.

His intellect only increased as he grew up, and at recess he preferred curling up in a corner with a textbook to running around outside with the other kids. Sometimes they would confront Željko, surrounding him and pleading with him to go outside. It quickly escalated from pleading to outright bullying, and the bullies would disappear once any adults or older kids came by.

One day, their deadly stares and even deadlier garlic breath had driven Željko to the end of his rope. He'd pressed himself against the wall, wishing he could disappear just like the bullies.

He hadn't known it at first, because he could still see his fingers and the other boys. It was only when Željko was dragged to the principal's office by a pale and swearing teacher that he found out his wish had come true. He'd disappeared in front of the bullies' eyes, his book still suspended in the air. Two of them had passed out after running away from him, and one of them had called a priest, apparently to "exorcize his demons". The priest said every prayer in the Bible, but nothing could bring Željko back to normal.

He'd been twelve then, and from then on nothing was ever the same. Every one of his peers avoided him, and most of them called Željko a sorcerer and all other kinds of names. That hurt him really badly.

To take his mind off his misfortunes, Željko, now known by his last name, focused on football. He played for a couple of clubs in Yugoslavia before moving to Germany. A year after he'd come to Germany, Buvač decided to play for Mainz. He would be their newest attacking midfielder.

It was there that he met Klopp. Just two years younger than him, Buvač's new teammate was outgoing, tender, passionate and definitely hadn't been called a demon or sorcerer before. They bonded quickly, and their friendship was strong.

To Buvač, Klopp was the younger brother he'd never had. Buvač gained a trust in him that he'd never had in any other one of his peers. They were two parts of a whole, yin and yang. They'd explored their powers profoundly, and Buvač had learned the limits of his power. He disappeared whenever his confidence or self-worth did, although the invisibility could be triggered purposefully. They even maintained contact when Buvač left Mainz for another club.

After he hung up his boots, Buvač spent three years coaching before he joined Klopp as assistant manager. He was the brain, and Klopp was the heart. Probably as well, since Buvač was better at tactics and statistics while Klopp excelled at pep talks and team bonding. They did wonders together, bringing Mainz to the Bundesliga before moving to Borussia Dortmund. They won two Bundesliga titles together and even got Dortmund to a Champions’ League final, where they were edged by arguably the best team in all of Germany, Bavaria Munchen.

Buvač and Klopp had become such a dynamic duo by then, it was no surprise that Liverpool asked both of them to become part of their managing staff. Taking along Pete "The Eye" Krawietz, Buvač instantly fell in love with the club. While Klopp understandably got most of the attention with his charismatic smile and witty one-liners, Buvač received a considerable amount of press for his tactics and role in Klopp's staff team.

In 2018, Buvač left Liverpool without Klopp. It wasn't a giant bust-up or anything like every newspaper in England suggested--Buvač simply wished to try his hand at something different. He got bored easily, and while Klopp was sad to see him go, the two wished each other luck.

Buvač spent two years on sabbatical in Bosnia, living on his own. He built a house out of stone on a mountain cliff, thinking that nature would help him shake the sinking feeling that had possessed him every day. For somebody that wasn't his family, Buvač missed not seeing Klopp every day of his life--even though the German could annoy him sometimes. Buvač found work as a sporting director in Russia just a month before lockdown.

Lockdown would've been long and lonely, had he and Klopp not met up once per week in secret. More often than not, Klopp remarked that he couldn't see Buvač on his screen. He'd turned invisible again, and Buvač wouldn't even notice since his invisibility didn't affect the way he could move objects or see his own body.

The only other thing keeping Buvač from slipping into depression was his job. But when Russia invaded Ukraine and all Russian sports were suspended, that was gone as well. Even though he'd extended his contract, Buvač didn't know when he would actually have sports to direct.

Now he was invisible more than he wasn't. He didn't bother to wear his glass and quartz supernatural restriction bracelet, because he was alone most of the time anyways.

He was invisible, thanks to the supernatural goddess Astra. And while it made for some awkward conversations with the mailman, at least it prevented Buvač from having to see himself being alone in the mirror.

[millythegoat]

Milly checking in with the boys and the lads..my heart :')

New fic based off our win today!

@moomin279 @liverpool-enjoyer @bobbybecker-21 @millythegoat @calm-smol @alissonbecksfan234

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Nein, ein Rücktritt war nie ein Thema. Er hat sich sicherlich einmal die Frage gestellt, ob er das Problem sein könnte und es an ihm liegt. Dass man darüber nachdenkt, liegt in meinen Augen in der Verantwortung der Cheftrainer-Position. Doch sowohl er als auch Zeljko Buvac und ich haben nach den Niederlagen relativ schnell damit begonnen zu strukturieren, was das Problem des vergangenen Spiels war.

Pete Krawietz auf die Frage, ob Jürgen Klopp an einen Rücktritt gedacht habe

[lmb15]

Unsere Fans haben uns wahnsinnig gut unterstützt, weil auch sie mit der Zeit gemerkt haben, dass es nicht am fehlenden Willen oder falschen Schwerpunkten lag, sondern wir einfach in Schwierigkeiten waren. Trotz aller Probleme ist es absolut beeindruckend, wie der Verein in dieser Phase zusammensteht.

Pete Krawietz über das Verhalten der Fans während der Krise

[lmb15]

Mit dem Bewusstwerden der Krise hat sich in unserem Stadion eine sehr gute Wettkampfatmosphäre entwickelt. Dortmund hat uns enorm geholfen, auf Anhieb in den richtigen Modus zu kommen. Das ist dann ein Faktor, der bei einem Heimspiel in einer solchen Situation Kräfte freisetzt und sehr viel stärker greift als sonst. Am Ende dieser langen Hinrunde kam in den Auswärtsspielen hinzu, dass uns dort körperlich wie mental die Körner gefehlt haben. Dadurch hat der letzte Tick gefehlt, um die Partien in unsere Richtung lenken zu können.

Pete Krawietz & der Faktor des Westfalenstadions in der Entschlüssung der Heim- & Auswärtsdiskrepanz

[lmb15]

Es geht aber nicht um die bloßen Ballbesitzzeiten, sondern um die Qualität des Ballbesitzspiels: Wie zielstrebig kann ich sein, wenn ich den Ball habe? Man kann gegen einen tief stehenden Gegner auch so arbeiten, dass man ihn überrascht. Das ist zwar nicht so einfach, wie wenn große Räume bei einem Schnellangriff zur Verfügung stehen, aber Spielverlagerungen oder Tempovariationen sind beispielsweise ein gutes Mittel dafür.

Pete Krawietz auf die Frage, ob man gegen tiefstehende Gegner ein dominantes Ballbesitzspiel plane

[lmb15]

Unser Portfolio an taktischen Maßnahmen hat natürlich auch dafür Lösungen. Wir sind komplett davon überzeugt, dass all unsere Maßnahmen dazu geeignet sind, auch solche Kontrahenten in enorme Schwierigkeiten zu bringen. Gerade gegen einen tief stehenden Gegner sind Gegenpressing-Maßnahmen absolut spielentscheidend. Dies wieder besser aussehen zu lassen, gehört unter anderem zu den Punkten, an denen wir arbeiten.

Pete Krawietz auf die Frage, ob Dortmunds Stärken bei tiefstehenden Gegnern anwendbar seien

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Wir sind jetzt gefordert, unsere Stärken wieder zu unseren Stärken zumachen. Denn je intensiver wir sie einsetzen können, desto mehr stellen wir den Gegner vor Aufgaben, die er nicht lösen kann - obwohl er sozusagen weiß, was passiert.

Pete Krawietz

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Das war den jeweiligen Ausgangslagen vor den Partien geschuldet. Es war uns nicht möglich, in einer englischen Woche drei Mal in Folge dieselbe Startelf aufzubieten. Also mussten wir Veränderungen vornehmen und schauen, in welcher Konstellation aus unserer Sicht die größtmögliche Aussicht auf Erfolg besteht. Wir hatten dann rund um das Heimspiel gegen Mönchengladbach eine Phase, in der wir uns sagten: Wir brauchen jetzt feste Abläufe. Da hatten wir das Gefühl, dass wir eine Konstellation gefunden haben, auf die wir immer wieder zurückgreifen können - wenn sich kein weiterer Spieler verletzt. Doch dann fielen Sokratis und Sven Bender aus, wenig später kam noch Marco Reus dazu. So konnten wir dieses Vorhaben leider nicht wirklich umsetzen.

Pete Krawietz auf die Frage, warum man nicht auf ein festes System gesetzt habe

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Krawietz: Zunächst muss man festhalten: Unsere grundsätzliche Spielidee hat sich dabei ja nicht verändert. Die maßgebenden Kriterien sind immer Fragen wie: Was bietet uns in der jeweiligen Personalsituation und angesichts der Spielweise des Gegners die größte Aussicht auf Erfolg? Wer steht uns zur Verfügung, wer ist frisch und wie kann diese Spielerkonstellation im Verhältnis zum Gegner am besten funktionieren? Das ist die Basis einer jeden Entscheidung. Die unterschiedlichen Systeme waren jeweils unsere Antworten auf diese Fragen. Wir haben versucht, den Spielern mit der Variante, mit der wie sie aufs Feld stellen, Hilfestellungen zu geben.

Pete Krawietz auf die Frage nach den vielen Systemwechseln in der laufenden Saison