I became the Premier League’s youngest manager

The rookie interim manager's triumph over a team expected to be at the bottom of the Premier League was immediately overshadowed by shocking news that broke right after the match.

This was because Everton manager Rafa Benitez, who lost the game, announced his resignation at a post-match press conference, citing 'irreconcilable differences of opinion' with the club's management.

The football world was stunned by the news that the veteran Spanish manager had suddenly resigned after completing the entire pre-season and playing just one regular season match.

However, as if they had been waiting for this moment, Everton appointed Frank Lampard, who had been living a life of indifference after being sacked by Chelsea, as their new manager the very next day.

What should have been an internal incident within Everton, however, had an unexpected flare-up in one place.

After finishing his playing career as a Chelsea legend and gaining experience in managing both second-tier and top-tier teams, including Derby County in the Championship and Chelsea in the Premier League, young manager Frank Lampard had been taking a break.

It was the board of Burnley Football Club who had been trying to contact him behind the scenes.

"Miss... Why of all people...?"

Helena, with dark circles under her eyes, cursed as she drew a line across the name at the top of the list in front of her.

It was a list of managerial candidates, compiled after a heated debate between the former owner and the current owner's representative, with the only remaining director by their side.

Mike Garlick and John Banaskiewicz, who wanted a manager with proven Premier League survival experience, suggested veterans like Roy Hodgson, who had announced his retirement, and Neil Warnock, who had already retired.

But Helena had a different opinion.

"Oh my goodness, have you even looked at our roster? It's the oldest in the Premier League. Do you think it makes sense to bring back a retired manager when you have a bunch of players who are going to retire in the next few days? Are you thinking of opening a nursing home?"

Helena stubbornly made her case while two men, who were actually closer to retirement than the start of their careers, slyly avoided her cold gaze.

"We need a manager who can lead this club from a long-term perspective. Someone who can lead the club for a long time, even if it's relegated, so that we can rebuild together and aim for promotion again."

"First of all, we need to avoid relegation this season..."

Helena cut off John Banaskiewicz.

"Avoiding relegation is not the end! What if we fail to rebuild this time and enter the Premier League next season? Will someone suddenly pour money into rebuilding for us? In fact, the players will all be a year older. It would be better to reform now!"

These were the words of Helena, who had grown up hearing talk about normalizing bad assets at the dinner table since she was little, and who had already successfully normalized insolvent companies several times despite her young age.

Among the two men listening to her, Mike Garlick asked solemnly, a mixture of discomfort and anxiety in his voice:

"Are you saying that as an agent for the Cartwright Fund?"

"As a director of the Cartwright Fund and as a director of Burnley Football Club, I share the same view."

With such confidence, she barely managed to convince the other two directors, but Helena was holding back tears as she drew a line at the top of the already short list.

"Ugh... let's see... who's next after Frank Lampard... Steven Gerrard? Wayne Loweni? Patrick Vieira? Mikel Arteta? Simone Inzaghi? Xabi? Niko Kovac? They're all managers now..."

Helena ran down the list, naming the young greats and promising managers in the world of football in a jumbled manner.

"Is it more likely from here? Anyway, I'm unemployed right now. Let's see... Aitor Karanka? Zinedine Zidane? Zidane? I've heard that name somewhere."

After she convinced Mike Garlick and John Banaskiewicz, the criteria the three set together were simple:

– Must be under 50 years old

– Must have experience managing in a top league, preferably in England

– If possible, have some experience as a player

– Must have a UEFA Pro Licence

After sorting through these criteria, the list itself became much shorter.

Most of the candidates were either already leading their respective teams or waiting for a good opportunity.

So, there was zero chance of Burnley, a team at the bottom of the Premier League in a rural corner of England where relegation seemed almost certain, getting a manager like that.

Frank Lampard, a British manager with an adventurous life, was the perfect fit. Helena looked at the list gloomily and picked up her phone.

Whatever it was, it was her job to contact the managerial candidates and their agents.

Burnley Football Club's training ground, the Banfield Training Centre, was a state-of-the-art facility built on the outskirts of Burnley under the strong insistence of then-manager Sean Dyche and full support from the club's former owner, Mike Garlick.

Completed in March 2017, the 73,000-square-meter space included the club's offices, state-of-the-art training and recovery facilities, classrooms and meeting rooms of various sizes, a swimming pool, and sauna.

It also featured one indoor pitch, four full-size outdoor pitches, six mini-pitches, and a cafeteria for players and staff, all identical in size and grass to the main stadium, Turf Moor.

Helena immediately liked this Banfield.

Of course, one reason was that it was much more comfortable than the jungles of the Amazon, where beasts and bugs she had only seen in documentaries roamed around every night, or the abandoned factory areas of Detroit, where slumification had already reached its peak.

But more importantly, living in the Banfield office meant she could get straight to work without the hassle of commuting. If she went to the cafeteria at an appropriate time, she would be served something prepared by a professional nutritionist.

She also did her own laundry in the laundry room where the players' uniforms were washed, showered in the locker room of the Burnley Football Club Women's Team (Helena immediately promised her full support when she found out about their existence), and slept on the sofa in the office.

Helena, who had been happily staying in Banfield's office amidst a hectic work schedule during her first week in England, quickly became attached to Banfield. However, she eventually moved out, due to the firm opinions of fellow directors Mike Garlick and John Banaskiewicz.

To be precise, it was because the staff members at the club felt excessive pressure about their work with their American boss staying at Banfield day and night. This concern was relayed to Mike Garlick and John Banaskiewicz.

Since Helena was the type who avoided unnecessary pressure, even when she was thirsty, she had no choice but to pack up and go out to find a new home.

Renting a proper house was a bit of a hassle, as they didn't know how long they would be in Burnley (in fact, Helena just didn't like the hassle of maintaining a house).

But after being told that the nearest five-star hotel was in Bradford or Blackburn—both 30 minutes away by car—she settled into the three-star Holiday Inn Express Burnley M65, a 45-minute walk to Banfield Training Ground and a 30-minute walk to Turf Moor.

Helena had no particular complaints, except that she was far from the office, as she was nervous about driving in a country where people drive on the wrong side of the road. Since she could just wash up at the hotel, drop off her laundry, and sleep anyway, it wasn't an issue.

The problem was that even she, who had managed to eat well in the Amazon jungle, had a hard time enduring the daily consumption of British food.

It was inevitable that the unfortunate American, who was terribly miserable with the monotonous British food served by the hotel, would head to the only McDonald's in town, enjoying the rare sunshine in Burnley on a rainy August day every other day.

"Two Big Macs. No, one Big Mac large, plus one Big Mac. And change the drink to a vanilla milkshake. Huh? Oh, is it take-out? No, I'm going to eat in."

The waiter gave Helena a look that seemed to say, "Are you going to eat all this by yourself?" but she ignored the look and held out her card to pay.

Although the North West British accent occasionally caused awkward moments, at McDonald's, you can order simply by calling the number, so there was no chance of ordering a mistake.

Finally, Helena escaped the torture of British food and satisfied her craving for proper junk food by inhaling two Big Macs, a large French fry, and a milkshake at the traditional McDonald's.

Feeling satisfied, Helena headed down the road called Burnham Gate to Burnley's only Starbucks.

The road was two and a half miles long, but for Helena, who had trudged between the mining fields of the Amazon and the abandoned factories of Detroit, the paved roads of the English countryside were no problem.

And it was not a coincidence, but rather fate, that Helena met one of the few foreigners living in Burnley and a coworker at Starbucks, where she arrived on foot.

"Huh? Kim?"

"Oh, hello, Miss Cartwright."

"Oh my goodness. Miss Cartwright, I think I'm going to get in trouble with that professor. Just call me Helena."

"Oh, yes."

Hyungmin had no choice but to tell Helena which table he had taken.