FM26 has beaten me. I quit.

In what is supposed to be an "In Real Life" FM26 save, since November 4th 2025 I have been playing catch up. Not because I'm not enjoying my save, but let's be honest, it's because FM26 has not delivered upon its promises and been a dumpster fire. Not wanting to sh1t anymore on SI and FM26 here, but like everyone else I'm not playing the game as before so the purpose of this blog post is simply record-keeping in not wanting to let my IRL save die having spent the past two years playing it religiously day-by-day.

In November 2023, I announced that I would be attempting to play FM24 in real time. Up until October 2025, as FM24’s cryogenically preserved lifespan doubled beyond its expected lifespan, such has been the way I have played FM over the past two years. As my love of the game grew, and I found new opportunities to play, I found myself able/wanting to go beyond the snail’s pace that I had adopted as FM24 Touch on my Nintendo Switch just wasn’t scratching the itch.

Last season was long. It was memorable, but it felt never ending at times. I didn’t realise it at the time when I signed for Basel, but when you come to Switzerland the season starts early and ends late, even though there’s 38 league games and one cup competition. It’s great to have a month between games between December and January, but when it comes down to it, it’s only about 10 days of rest really.

An Ode to The FM Notebook and how I intend to use mine for FM26 using The Bullet Journal Method.

Hi there, my name is Daljit, apart from being a content creator, I am also a moderator on the SI forums helping people out with the training and tactics side of the game. On this channel you will fi...

June 18th, 2025. Just another quiet morning in Basel—until it wasn’t. Before my first cappuccino, I was told Lyon had made a formal approach. A jet was waiting. Shocked, flattered, and unsure, I agreed to meet them. The interview went well… until it didn’t. Questions about my age, my loyalty, and why I’d leave a thriving project like Basel hung in the air. I flew back not as a future Lyon manager, but as someone who now knew: this wasn’t about fit. It was theatre. Basel was still my home—at least, for now.