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"That's three ****ing minutes now ref!! Have you got a watch on you ****!
Finally, the whistle blew, to cheers from the 300 or so home fans, relief from the referee himself and a manic scream from yours truly. Running onto the pitch, I threw myself on the pile of heaving, celebrating players in the centre circle.
The end of my sixth season with Ersboda, and we were now on the brink of joining the First Division Elite. Despite all of the celebrations, the real party would come if Jonnkoping Sodra failed to beat already relegated Ulricehamm the day after.
That day, the Sunday, the players and backroom staff huddled round a small radio in the tiny club bar. Only a win would do for Jonnkoping, and things looked bleak as they took a 3-0 lead in at half-time. Bottles of beer were replaced with Cokes, as I began to formulate a plan for the playoff games.
In the second half, though, it soon became clear the Ulricehamm were not going to go out from the division with a whimper. A goal on 59 minutes made things more interesting, before a second in the 83rd minute rekindled some real hope. Everyone was now glued to the broadcast, not daring to miss a word:
Just one minute to go now, and Ulricehamm are making a real go of it here, they are piling the pressure on the home team who look out on their feet. Guterstam now for the visitors, oooh that's a lovely ball for Lindgren..Lindgren's through, surely he must score? No, great recovery tackle...only cleared to Einarsson and there's danger here...Einarsson looks up..he's picked out Lindgren..Lindgren!! It's there, he's put it away!! What a cool finish!! Ulricehamm are all square!! What an unbelievable fightback!! Jonnkoping look stunned!!
Everyone looked at each other, silence reigned for a brief second. Then a huge whoop came from 20-year old Simon Persson, and before I knew it, chairs were flying and Coke was dripping from the ceiling as the younger members of the squad danced for joy, hugging each other. I had to turn the volume up, so that myself and the 'elder statesmen' of the team could hear the final minutes tick away on Sodra's title challenge. Three nervewracking minutes later, during the course of which I'm sure the Swedish players and coaches learnt some new and inventive English insults, the whistle went.
I turned to Sindri Sverrison, club captain.
"We're champions" I whispered, still stunned.
"Yep" he replied, grinning broadly.
"*******,****ing, sure as ****, abso****inglutely CHAMPIONS!!" I bellowed, followed by "Crack out the absinthe boys, were in the ****ing Elite!"
The celebrations were 'interesting', as in, I couldn't remember a ****ing thing for about a week. I'm pretty sure I went blind for a few hours though, just after some kind of 'Team Tequila' challenge. Still, no rest for the wicked.
My name is Simon Ayres, and I'm a football manager.
Sounds good, doesn't it? I got my break whilst knocking around Europe, travelling, disorientated and directionless. Ersboda SK had recently been promoted to the Second Division North, managerless, in debt and with a pub team as a squad. I'm still not sure how I got that job. The Chairman was either very desperate or just terrified by my dreadlocks, which were starting to grow their own arms at the time. I had a bit of experience, having run coaching sessions and helped to manage a Sunday League team, but beyond that, I was basically, a blagger.
Still, after 3 seasons of mediocrity, I found some confidence from somewhere. This transmitted itself to the team, who then responded by running away with the Second Division North with 3 games to spare. That was some party, that one. Then this season was a dream. No-one expected it, let alone me, until we were siting top with six games to go. Nerves kicked in despite my best efforts, and Jonnkoping reeled us in, leading to the incredible events on the last day of the season...
Now it's time to plan. Can we really survive in the Elite? Ersboda has always had to be a selling club; we just don't have the finances to turn down bids. But maybe this season..just maybe..
Pontus Hagstrom (SWE), 22 (29 games, 10 clean sheets, 7.03) Signed on a free in 2010, this keeper is just getting better. Definite first choice, but interest from GIF Sundsvall may mean he starts somewhere else next season if they can meet the club’s valuation.
Daniel Etminan (SWE), 24 (0(1) games) One of the few original squad members left, Daniel is just not consistent enough to challenge Hagstrom. May find himself forced out during the off-season.
Defenders
Frederik Sott-Kedestad (SWE), 26 DRC (5(2) games, 7.00) Signed on a free in 2007, has found first team opportunities limited this season. May not be good enough to make the step up for the next campaign. Wanted by Enkopings SK.
Darian Banda(SWE), 23 DRL (9 games, 1 assist, 7.00) Signed on a free at the start of this season, received a few injuries that reduced his appearances. Definitely a player to keep for next year.
Christian Stallhammar (SWE), 24 DRL (14(2) games, 2 assists, 7.00) Consistent and versatile, Christian cost us £10k two seasons ago. Again, injuries disrupted his season, but I am confident he will be able to handle the higher league.
William Ndziba(SWE), 23 DLC (24 games, 1 goal, 5 assists, 7.13) Highly gifted defender, with a wicked left foot, Will is another free transfer purchase that I expect to do well again next year.
Mattias Larsson (SWE), 21 DC (25 games, 7.20) Commanding defender despite his youth, and a rock at the heart of the defence this year. Vice-captain. He will hopefully stay, despite interest from Karlslund.
Christoffer Spangberg (SWE), 25 DC (26 games, 7.38) Having paid £6k for him last season, Christoffer failed to impress at first, and was in danger of being shipped out. This season, however, he has been a revelation, forming a strong partnership with Larsson. Wanted by Enkopings SK, but he’s going nowhere without a shedload of cash changing hands.
Victor Holmlund (SWE), 30 DC (1 game, 7.00) Never likely to displace the partnership of Larsson/Spangberg, Victor will most likely be shipped out in the off-season. Original squad member.
Midfielders
Sindri Sverrison (SWE, 26 DC / DMC , (15(4) games, 2 assists, 2 goals, 7.30) One of my first signings at Ersboda, Sindri is a solid presence in the midfield, and we struggle when he’s unavailable. Club captain.
Rabi Elia (SWE), 23 MC (23 games, 1 goal, 4 assists, 7.09) A skilful midfielder with a powerful shot from distance, Rabi was another freebie. Needs to score more goals though.
Ivan Isakovic (SER), 33 MC (4 (4) games, 6.50) The veteran was signed as a backup two seasons ago for £1k, but has failed to perform when given the chance. Unhappy, and may well be on his way out of the club soon.
Dime Kuzev (SWE), 31 AMR / FC (12 (10) games, 4 goals, 1 assist, 6.82) He may not be getting any younger, but Dime is still a solid winger, and a useful backup striker when needed. I will be looking for some younger legs on the wing for next season though.
Korush Lashkari (SWE), 22 AMRL / ST (17 games, 11 goals, 5 assists, 7.59) Bought at the start of the season for £9k, Korush was a revelation, scoring goals from either the wing or up front. A broken ankle lead to him missing the ‘business end’ of the season though, but he should be fit and raring to go for the new campaign.
Nils Envald (SWE), 23 AMLC (13 games, 1 goal, 2 assists, 7.23) This was his fourth season at Ersboda, and still contributes well. May struggle next year though, when Lashkari returns to fitness.
Simon Persson (SWE), 20 AML / ST (7(5) games, 1 goal, 2 assists, 7.00) A product of the youth season, this lad has all the attributes to make it as a quality winger with pace and good dribbling skills, plus a killer cross. Next season could break him into the big time.
Andre Mollerstam (SWE), 20 AMC (7 games, 1 goal, 1 assist, 7.43) Signed mid-season for £12k, Andre is a goos creative midfielder with a killer pass. Should do well next season.
Strikers
Caue Benicio (BRA), 29 FC (22(2) games, 11 goals, 1 assist, 7.00) If I’m honest, Caue was bought mainly because he’s Brazilian, but it was £3k well spent. Has performed well this season, but faces increased competition up front.
Jimmy Hellstrom (SWE), 25 ST (3 games, 1 goal, 6.67) A natural born striker, his season was curtailed by 4 months out with a broken foot.
Mattias Johannsson (SWE), 25 ST (5(1) games, 1 goal, 1 assist, 6.67) Signed mid-season for £3k, Mattias is good in the air and a good finisher. Should prosper next season.
Frederik Olsson (SWE), 26 ST (11(7) games, 5 goals, 6.67) Bought for £2k, has good pace and movement. Not had the best of seasons though, and will definitely need to show me why he deserves to be here next season.
Man Down
The month did not start well. After a few days off for the celebrations, the team was back in for a final training session before leaving on their holidays. This was not my normal way of doing things, but I wanted to make sure that the players would not rest on their laurels for next season; we had a lot of work to do before the start of our Elite campaign. Unfortunately, this was session too many for Pontus Hagstrom. Coming out to claim a high ball from Dime Kuzev, Pontus landed awkwardly, and it was obvious from the agony on his face that it was no simple bump on the knee. I could only stand and watch helplessly as the physio manipulated the keeper’s limb carefully, poking and prodding near the top of his right leg. Finally he stood:
“Well, it’s not good news, boss”
“No **** Sherlock, what was your first clue?” I snapped, interrupting him.
“You’re looking at a nasty hip problem. He’ll need to see a specialist for certain. Maybe two or three months, at a guess. Longer than that before he’s fully fit.”
“B*ll*cks” I muttered, and stamped off the training pitch to sulk in my office.
When I had finally calmed down, it didn’t seem that bad. True, he would be out of action for a while, but most of that would be the holiday months anyway. Plus, there should be enough time to ease him back to fitness before the start of next season; better it happened now than halfway through the league campaign, I concluded. Also, an injury may put off the vultures circling around his signature. A slightly immoral thought, but a cheering one nonetheless.
That day also saw the return of Lashkari from his broken ankle. He was a bit cautious for the first ten minutes, but soon found his feet and was bamboozling defenders left, right and centre again. An encouraging sign certainly, especially with him having picked up an award for ‘Signing of the Season’ for his performances in the First Division South, and being named Fans Player of the Year despite missing a large chunk of the season due to his injury. Of course, the down side to all of these accolades was that he was now attracting attention from Premier League clubs, and he was one player I felt I needed to keep hold of for next season.
Tough Decisions
Contract renewal time, and a line of nervous players formed outside my office. The senior players were called in first, and there were three that I knew were going to be have to let go.
First in was Victor Holmlund, a member of the original Ersboda squad when I took over. He was decent enough at Second Division level but was nowhere near good enough for the Elite stage, plus at 30 years of age time was not on his side. He seemed to know what was coming, and the conversation was relatively easy. I thanked him for his services to the club, and wished him well in the future.
Next up the ramp was Mattias Oster-Waara. One of my first signings, he was fairly versatile but just did not possess the quality needed. He had spent the season in the Reserves and had produced some impressive performances, but it was not good enough to change my mind.
“Sit down Matti, this shouldn’t take long. As you know, your contract with the club is up, and I’m afraid we won’t be offering you a new one” I explained calmly.
“What? That’s bull****!” Matti exploded
(Despite the situation, I couldn’t help but feel proud of how well I had taught the squad some good old English swearing).
“Look, Matti, it’s nothing against you personally. But look at the facts. Sindri is first choice in your position, and Isakovic is more experienced as a back-up. I’m afraid I just can’t justify keeping you here on £300 a week. Plus, I don’t want you to be sitting on the bench every week here when you can be getting first team football somewhere else” I reasoned.
“I’ve been working my b*ll*cks off in the Reserves for a year, and then you let me go? You’re a ****ing disgrace.” With that he stalked out, slamming the door.
I leaned back in my chair and puffed my cheeks out. Terminating contracts was something I never enjoyed, but with the financial situation at the club the wage bill had to be trimmed wherever possible. Matti wasn’t a bad lad, but he obviously though he deserved more; I didn’t, and that was that.
The last termination I planned to make was possibly the hardest. Johan Nordell had been at the club since I arrived, and in the previous four seasons had scored 55 goals in just 74 games as a striker, making himself a fan favourite in the process. Sadly though, he had failed to find the net last season despite being given ample opportunities in the first team. He was on £450 a week, and I had agonised long and hard about renewing it. In the end, though, my head won over my heart.
“Hi, Johan, please take a seat”
“Thanks boss” he said, sitting down. “Have you made a decision then?”
“Direct as always? Okay, I’ll get down to it. Now, you know I have the utmost respect for you as a player and a person…” I trailed off, unable to finish.
“But?” Johann prompted.
“But, I’m afraid we’re going to have to let you go when your contract runs out.”
Johann stayed silent, but I could tell he was disappointed.
“Look, it’s like this. You were amazing in the Second Division, absolutely deadly, and you were probably the reason we were promoted to the First. Your performances this season though just haven’t been good enough, and I really don’t think that you can add anything to the team in the Elite. I’m sorry Johann, I really am.”
“Okay” he said, finally. “I understand, I was thinking as much. To be honest, I don’t think I’m ready for the higher league either. I appreciate that you need to free up the wages.”
“Thanks Johann,” I said, relieved.
I stood to shake his hand, and wish him well for the future. He was a true professional, and I hoped that he would be able to find a club more suitable for him.
Showdown
I fidgeted nervously in the hard wooden chair. Staffan Connysson (Conny to his enemies, of which there were many) was a master at keeping people waiting.
I cast my mind back to our first meeting, at my second interview for the job. In his late fifties, Conny was still an imposing figure in an immmaculately tailored suit.
"So, Mr Ayres, why do you think you are qualified to manage this club?" he had boomed.
Words, quite honestly, failed me at that point. I stammered something about youth coaching experience in England and a brief semi-pro career curtailed by my desire to see Europe. He scrutinised me with shrewd eyes.
"You are by far the least qualified of all our applicants".
My heart sank. Despite the fact that applying had been on a whim, I had begun to picture myself in the dugout, making incomprehensible hand gestures and haranguing hapless officials. Conny sighed.
"Okay, let me put it like this. The other applicants are asking for wages of £300 a week. If you agree to sign for £100 a week, I can offer you a one-year contract. Take it or leave it."
I took it. As I shook his hand I saw a look of triumph cross his previously stony features. This was explained a week later when I told the story to my then assistant, Max Lundh. He burst out laughing.
"That's our Conny," he managed to splutter "tight as ever!
"What do you mean?" I asked, genuinely puzzled.
"You were the only applicant!" Max exclaimed, collapsing into howls of laughter.
I was glad he found it funny. I certainly didn't. Since then, I had dreaded the traditional meeting before the start of the club's pre-season activities. Despite our recent achievements, I was often ordered to cut the wage budget, or given no transfer funds. Still, you couldn't doubt the man's passion for the club; he lived every match as much as the most dedicated fan.
"Ah, Simon, there you are" I jumped, startled from my reverie.
"Good morning Mr Connysson. How are you today?" I managed to stammer.
"Good, good thank you," he replied, settling into his large leather chair, "now to business".
(The lack of interest in my welfare was not a bad sign. He had been the same for 5 years.)
"Your transfer budget for this season will be £70k. I have also made room in the wage budget to allow for a larger squad, due to the profit of £90k we made last season and increased TV money. Your aim is to avoid relegation. Oh, and I have today accepted a bid from Hammarby for Sindri Sverrison, so I suggest that your first priority would be to strengthen the midfield. Is there anything else to discuss?"
I sat, mouth slightly agape at the casually-delivered news.
"You've sold Sindri? My captain Sindri?" I asked.
"I believe that is the one, yes," he replied, coolly. I could not believe my ears.
"Well, how much for? A hundred grand, maybe one-fifty?" I choked out.
"£45 thousand, to be paid upfront." He could see my mounting frustration, and continued "I suggest you think very carefully as to what you say next, Mr Ayres. Remember, this is my club built with my money. No-one is bigger than the club, not even the captain. And nor is the manager"
An Englishman in Sweden 
Never really had any intention of writing it but, well, six seasons with a club can really change your mind!
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