[Translator's note: the parts about the Duna with orange plates and about the tavern refer to two of the Italian sentences about fired players; "Men and women" is the title of a (crappy, if you ask me) Italian reality show; Coverciano is where new coaches are trained in Italy]

Chairman, I'm your coach. Through this letter of mine I want to open my heart and tell you my story.
My career starts a bit by accident, in a far away town which you probably don't even know... I was home, it was cold, I was comfortably sitting on my couch, I had a sweated undershirt on and with a beer in my hand I was watching the repeats of "Men and women". All of a sudden I received a phone call, it was a young entrepreneur who wanted to build up a very ambitious football team.
He told me: "Do you want to become coach of my team?"
I answered: "Yes, I haven't got anything to do this afternoon."
He said: "You didn't understand, I'm offering you a contract."
I, who was unemployed, accepted. But from the very beginning I found some hitches. The chairman took part to his first league meeting and the other chairmen asked him about the team. When he talked about me, the others, astounded, told him: "interesting team, but the coach ought to be replaced, he's too weak!" Meanwhile, unaware of all this, I was running my first training. Things didn't go right, the guys didn't listen to me and made fun of me. I had told the chairman that I would mainly train midfield and he filled me with scoundrel underages... bah! Thus, all players went away in the middle of the training, mocking me and boasting of their models... things hadn't started the right way, but I didn't expect my chief's call.
He told me: "I've got two bad pieces of news."
The first one was my firing. I expected it, all was going wrong.
I asked him: "Too bad, what's the second one?"
He answered: "As a liquidation I can only give you this."
Me: "NOOOO, the Duna with with orange plates NO!"
Dark times, but I didn't give up. I studied at Coverciano to become a good coach and I was employed by you.
You told me: "you're good, I trust you".
I didn't understand why you filled me with 17yo, too, but these ones were more disciplined. It was a nice year, the players payed attention to me, they became better one day after another, if I told them to play it cool they were happier afterwards and played better for a couple of weeks.
There was only a couple of things I didn't understand: why it was you who set the lineup? Shouldn't it have been me? Why did players become better all of a sudden about every couple of months? It didn't matter...
A fter a year since I started working a strange thing happened. I felt myself less of a leader, the players were less happy if I told them not to strive too much. Moreover, I didn't understand why you insisted of making me play on Tuesday evening. I didn't manage to keep after today's players anymore, after 5 minutes I already breathed heavily. Neither had I got their physical integrity, a strain was foreseeable. What worries me is that I don't manage to heal anymore, on the contrary I keep getting worse. Why? The strain unexplicably became a fracture. I must have some specialist visit me...
B ut anyway, despite my uncertain health I keep doing my job, with the same passion. But when I saw that 34yo so expert and with so much leadership, whom you bought a couple of months ago, it struck me that you wanted to replace me. Now that my second year is at hand I feel that my abilities are diminishing and that I won't be able to be your coach forever, but I want to remind you the happy moments, all the young promises that are now champions and that were worth much for the team, all the wins, the happy crowds. If you want to replace me please do so, but don't give me another Duna. You could rather offer me a lunch in that tavern a bit far from here, the one with the friendly management. I heard that over there they make wonderful dish with beans.
Regards, The Coach Forever