foozle

Hi Guys, this is my first attempt at a story so I hope you enjoy it. I'm using the FM07 second patch database and I've updated the Everton playing squad to reflect the summer's signings.

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I can still remember it now, the first time my Dad took me to watch them. He'd avoided the Old Lady for a few years, since the sad death of his friend. Football was their thing, their passion and after Derek had died I think a part of that love of the game died with Dad too. I always wanted to go though, always nagged him. Eventually, he relented and it was on a sunny August afternoon in my new shirt that Dad took me to Goodison Park to watch Everton.

I can't remember the score now, or the opponents. It might have been Villa, I'm not too sure. All I can recall with perfect clarity and emotion was emerging from the bowels of that old ground and stepping out into the stand and feeling the breath knocked out of me. It was magnificent, four stands towering over the green carpet of the pitch with a glorious blue sky overhead.

They say Evertonians don't choose, that they're chosen. I believe that, if only for the way I felt that day and the way I felt every time I went on to pull on that number 9 shirt for the club in my playing career. I started as a schoolboy and made my first team debut at 16, thrown in for a League Cup game. I made an impression on Howard Kendall the then manager and he gave me a run in the first time. He was good like that Howard, always rewarded youth and always there with a word of encouragement.

The fans took to me early on, possibly because they could see the slightly maverick edge to me. Looking back at some of the frankly ludicrous hairstyles and devil may care attitude doesn't make me cringe though. I loved the game and I loved the club and I think that showed in the way I played. Hence why the fans loved me too.

Following the last day survival at the end of the 97/98 season, Peter Johnson the then Chairman agreed a deal to sell me to AC Milan. I flatly rejected the move, not being able to speak that language and having no desire to leave being the cheif reasons. I was told, bluntly, that the club needed the money and that if I didn't go the club wouldn't be buying anyone to strengthen the squad and the future was bleak.

I wasn't alone, Duncan Ferguson and Michael Ball would be given the same speech and would leave Goodison with tears in their eyes. I enjoyed my time at Milan, you'd have to be insane not to. But something out of the game was different. Sure I still enjoyed and wanted to win games but losing them never seemed to hurt as much anymore. I played at the San Siro until 2006 when at only 29 my playing career was effectively ended by a crude challenge which left my right leg in pieces.

I'd not been idle in my summer's however, a lot of players like to play golf and carry their wife or girlfriend's expensive designer shopping. I'd completed my coaching courses and it was on a trip back to Liverpool that I received a call that would change my future quite drastically.

foozle

I was back in Liverpool visiting friends and family. Liverpool's a football city and news like that literally brought at least one half of the city to a standstill. I was with a group of friends in a bar in town when the last to arrive had turned up breathless bringing the news with him.

"You'll never belive is lads, Moyes has quit!" Panted Foz as he crashed down at the table and swept up his pint. "No-one's saying why either, just the club are after a replacement."

"Blimey, he's brought in a load of players this summer as well hasn't he? Odd timing that," mused Joe, "wonder who they'll go for?"

"Proven manager I reckon, probably Sparky at Blackburn. Or maybe they'll look abroad. I'd love Ramos from Sevillia," I said salivating at the prospect of Ramos bringing his unique brand of attacking style football to Goodison. I'd thought about it for a split second but I knew I wouldn't be able to do it. The terror of getting it all wrong and damaging the club was too great and besides, I had no coaching or management experience. Just a nice Fifa accreditted certificate.

"You could go for it Rob," my mate Baron piped up. "You'd be quality Mate."

"Nah not for me just yet, I need to go somewhere with just a little less pressure I reckon. Anyway another round?" I queired to general agreement. I say general, an offer of another round of drinks is always universally met with approval.

I couldn't help but mull it over though. I got into management wanting to manage Everton, no point denying that. Problem was, I was 30. No Chairman would appoint a 30 year old with no experience would they? I ordered the round at the bar and absently watched the tv behind the bar. Everton's chairman Bill Kenwright was on. I couldn't hear what was being said over the general noise of the bar though it would be doubtless to do with the vacant manager's position.

Maybe they'll offer it to Duncan I thought, thinking fondly of my old team-mate Duncan Ferguson. It'd be brilliant to see him and Roy Keane attempting to share a techincal area.

My phone buzzed in my pocket but I ignored it. I'd had too much to drink and it would no doubt be a paper or some other media source wanting an ex-player's take on the day's events at Everton. I'd only had a few but the thought of even slightly slurring my words terrified me. Last thing I wanted was to be labelled an alcoholic or something similar by the trigger-happy press. Build them up to knock 'em down.

My drinks arrived and I carried my round back to our table. If the phone continued to ring tomorrow I'd glady share my views with the aid of sobriety but right now, I was back in my city and I was going to enjoy myself.