I don’t think fifth place tells the whole story.

If you’d offered me fifth when I walked through the door, I probably would have said no. If you’d shown me where we’d been six weeks earlier and then shown me where we’d finish, perhaps I’d have thought differently. That’s football. Context changes everything. Seven wins from thirteen isn’t spectacular, but neither is it something to dismiss. We finished four points off the top of the conference, and when I replay the season in my head I don’t think about Tampa or Louisville first. I think about Indy Eleven. I think about Brooklyn. Those first two matches where I was still trying to impose my football before I’d properly understood the footballers. If we’d found a point here or there, the conversation today would probably be completely different.

The thing that frustrates me isn’t where we finished. It’s how we finished there.

Thirty-two expected goals. Fourth best in the league. On paper, that’s a team creating enough chances to compete at the top. But football isn’t played on paper. Loudoun scored twelve goals more than the models expected them to. We scored three. Our average shot quality is too low. We reach good areas, then hesitate. We hit hopeful crosses. We force passes that aren’t there. We shoot because we feel we should rather than because we should. One hundred and thirty-eight shots on target sounds impressive until you realise how many more opportunities should have become shots in the first place. Eso me mata. That’s the difference between a good team and a champion.

The encouraging part is that I think we’ve found our platform. The shape has evolved almost every week, but the principles haven’t. I’ve become more convinced that one aggressive wing-back and one interior wing-back gives us balance. Allowing Christian to sit while the opposite side attacks has freed Benja enormously between the lines, and the midfield box has given us a reference point that survives almost every adjustment we’ve made. I don’t think we’ve discovered the final version of this team. Far from it. But I do think we’ve discovered where to begin every conversation.

I’ve also discovered that sometimes your own ideas simply don’t work.

Jamir is probably the best example. I looked at our finishing problems and convinced myself the solution was obvious. Put one of the league’s quickest players closer to goal. Let him attack the channels, press centre-backs, stretch the back line and create space for everybody else. Seven matches later I had to admit I’d been wrong. Not because Jamir suddenly became a worse footballer – he didn’t – but because I’d asked him to become somebody else. That’s on me. Coaches talk a lot about putting players in positions to succeed. Sometimes we only realise we’ve failed after giving them every opportunity.

Joel presents a different challenge. He’s one of the most talented footballers at the club and the supporters adore him. I understand why. When he receives the ball in the right spaces he still sees passes that most players don’t even imagine. Against Birmingham he produced five key passes because we manipulated their double pivot exactly as we’d planned, creating the pocket I’d wanted him to occupy. The frustration is that those afternoons have become exceptions rather than habits. I don’t need Joel to run further. I need him to influence matches more often.

The interesting thing is that the answers to those two problems might actually be the same.

When we reviewed the season we found that around seventy percent of our turnovers came in the opposition half, with almost a third happening just outside the penalty area. We work incredibly hard to progress the ball, arrive exactly where we want to arrive… and then lose it because we haven’t decided what the next picture should look like. We’ve scored very few goals from outside the area, so clearly Zone 14 isn’t the destination – it’s the beginning of the final action. During the last two matches I moved Joel into a false nine role and pushed Jamir back out to the right as an inside forward. Suddenly Benja, David and Joel began forming little triangles between the lines instead of standing on different floors of the same building. We scored seven goals. Joel scored four himself. Maybe it’s permanent. Maybe it’s simply another tool. I don’t know yet. But it reminded me that solutions are often found by changing relationships rather than changing players.

Arney has been the opposite problem. Every time he’s available he reminds everybody why he’s one of the first names on the team sheet. Ten goal contributions in thirteen starts speaks for itself. Unfortunately, football doesn’t care how talented you are if you’re watching from the treatment room. There’s no recurring injury, nothing alarming, just too many small knocks. That’s probably another lesson for me. Managing a player isn’t only about the ninety minutes. It’s everything that happens between them.

Now comes the difficult part.

Who stays? Who leaves? Which youngsters are ready? Which experienced players still have another year? Those decisions won’t belong entirely to me, just as they never have. The board know the profile of player I want. I know the profile of player they want. Fortunately, those conversations have become much easier than they were when I arrived. The club is in a healthier financial position than most at this level, which gives us opportunities many others don’t have. Whether we use those opportunities wisely… bueno, that’s the real work of the summer.

The league table says fifth.

I think we’re only just beginning.