shannon2007

Haiti

Enrique found himself, head covered with a sack that smelled like an old woman who hadn't washed herself for like 20 years, dragged from the vehicle he had been riding in for what seemed like an eternity and with what he could only assumed were tha AK-47's still prodding his back, made to walk up a never ending spiral staircase. Eventually they reached the top and Enrique was pushed roughly onto what he assumed was a chair.

'You wait here Mssr Fernandez. Be a good boy and no-one will get hurt. D'you undertand?'

Enrique mumbled that he did not really understand only to have someone wallop him with what he assumed was the AK-47 and he meekly agreed to wait. Quietly. Like a little, tiny, frightened mouse. A little tiny frightened mouse that was, quite literally, in danger of peeing itself. But Enrique held on for grim life, he would not give these thugs another reason to humiliate him.

As he sat waiting for his fate, Enrique tried to think who these people could be. Could it be his drug smuggling racket to Uruguay had been found out? Unlikely as that may seem, because Enrique didn't have a drug smuggling racket. He didn't even have a tennis racket. OK so it wasn't that. Could it then be his involvement in the white slave trade, shipping off young girls to Europe to serve as whores and slaves? No, that wasn't it. The nearest Enrique had ever come to the white slave trade had been that rather cute looking prositute he had had picked up once or twice in Port Au Prince who had known some rather kinky games.

No there was only one thing it could be. The authorities had uncovered his dodgy dealings with Uruguayan club side Uruguay Montevideo which had seen two players from his club transfered there and Enrique had pocketed a quite nice fee. But would that really require an armed gang? This wasn't the 1930's after all. It was hardly illegal to take a bung - well perhaps it was, but come on everyone in Haiti was doing it. Except Mannon, he was a bloody saint.

After what seemed liked hours, with his bladder about to burst, Enrique was frogmarched again, made to sit down and the sack was finally removed from his head. He found himself in a rather luxurious office, that reeked of cigar smoke. As his eyes focused, Enrique recognized the man behind the desk at last.

'You bastard!' He shouted at him. 'You utter bastard!'

'Come now Enrique' An exceptionally fat, round man with a huge cigar sticking almost obscenely out of his mouth spoke, 'There's no need to be like that.'

'There bloody is!' Enrique was outraged, 'I've gone and fecking wet myself!!'

shannon2007

Well, It's A Job.....

It wasn't exactly his dream job. No, that would be managing Barcelona, Real Madrid, Juventus - some big European club that would propel the name of Juan Sebastien Juarez to great honour and glory. No, that would be managing the club he had supported as a boy - but for whom he would never be good enough to play - the mighty Penarol, thirty six times Champions of Uruguay, the greatest footballing nation on earth. Not that many shared that view, but Uruguay had after all won the first ever World Cup.

So perhaps it wasn't his dream job. Perhaps this wasn't the biggest club in Uruguay - hell it wasn't even close to being the biggest club in Montevideo, living in the perennial shadows of Uruguay's two mightiest clubs, the great Penarol and the detestable Nacional. But a job is a job and you have to start somewhere and goddammit man, Juan Sebsatien Juarez would simply have to make this club become his dream job, to make the eyes of the world look down on this club and be green with envy.

That of course would not be easy. Aside from the fact the squad was pretty poor to say the least. Aside from the fact there was little, if any, money to spend. Aside from the fact that two of the three non-Uruguayan places had to be taken - the Chairman insisted - by two very raw and very ineffectual looking Haitians. Aside from the fact that his coaching staff were from Haiti - and what the hell was this ridiculous obsession this Chairman seemed to have. Aside from all that was the very obvious fact that, no matter what success Juan Sebastien achieved at Uruguay Montevideo, no-one would give a damn. Uruguay is not in Europe and everyone knows that only in Europe is real football played.

Everything else is just bloody pointless.

shannon2007

Well, It's A Job.....

'We'd like to offer you the job as Manager of the National Side.' The rather fat sweaty man with the huge cigar beamed broadly.

'You'd like to what?!?' Enrique felt himself about to explode.

'We'd like you to become the new manager of Haiti' Fatty smiled hypocritically, 'We are sure you are the right man for this highly prestigious position.'

'You drag me here at gun point, with a bag over my head, scaring me half to death, making me think something terrible was happening, and then..... and then you offer me a ... a.. JOB!'

'Sure' Sweaty Fatman blew his smoke very deliberately into across Enrique's face.

'Well that's outrageous. I mean, after the way you've treated me - you could have sent me a fricking letter! Or phoned me! But no, you kidnap me at gunpoint, and the you offer me a freaking job!'

'Well we do like to add a little bit of drama. This will be a demanding job, had to know if you had the bottle for it. So, will you accept? No pressure like.'

'Will I accept? Brought here at gunpoint and nearly murdered! - Sure, why not.'

'Excellent. You can begin tomorrow. This is going to be a most wonderful relationship. You will lead us to glory, even more so than 1974. Together Enrique we will become legends!'

'Erm yeah sure and if I fail, you'll have me shot!'

Fatty dropped his cigar, his face awash with indignation.

'Have you shot? SHOT! My good man, whatever could have given you that impression!'

shannon2007

Meanwhile, Back in the USSR.... erm Uruguay.

Juan Sebastien Juarez had hardly set the Uruguay Montevideo fans buzzing with excitement on his arrival at the club. Sure, he had played here for about five years, flitting in and out of the first team but few fans could tell you much about him. He had scored the odd goal - very odd, in fact only three times had he managed to send the ball over the goal line. Five if you count the twice he had put the ball in at the wrong end and you kind of get the picture that Juarez was not exactly a hero at this club. His coaching credentials were not great, mediocrity of three years spent at a lower league club taking them nowhere really. It might not come as a surprise that this man's appointment did not thrill a fanbase that was far from expectant at any rate.

Juan Sebastien though really believed that he was no on the road to greater things. Probably not with this club - hell that would be a miracle indeed - but surely if he could just get noticed here a big club would call and a dream move to Europe would finally happen. Extremely unlikely, but you had to have a dream didn't you. And all dreams have to have start somewhere, even here. Even if, technically, this was not really the start of his career. In many ways though, it was.

Montevideo were not a big club, they did not have oodles of money to spend on the transfer market. The sales of left back Pablo Madruga - the clubs most promising young player - and central defender Cristian Rodriguez did bring in round about 8 million pesos. It sounds a lot until you do the maths and realise that is only £200,000 and that will not even buy you Alessandro del Piero's nose hair. Although it has to be said such nose hair would still be a better footballer than most of the Montevideo squad.

Even though there was now a little bit of money to spend, and Juarez did move to bring in some new faces, only £14,000 was spent. Most players who were worth any money did not want to come and play here. In the end, although the squad was in reality fairly crap, it was crap that on the whole Juan Sebastien had signed and he felt happy enough. His squad may be crap - there really was no denying that - but if there was one thing that was, hopefully, riding in the manager's favour it was quite simply that, when all was said and done, virtually all the other teams here were crap as well.

retired_rkp278

Excellent story. :thup:

retired_satishgraj

Brilliant!

KUTGW

shannon2007

1974 And All That

Enrique closed the door of the office, first making sure there were no people waiting to 'surprise' him - with guns. This had, perhaps, been one of the more unusual job interviews he had ever had, but in the end he could not turn down the opportunity to manage his country. And that letter from the President, threatening to have his legs broken if he refused, in no way influenced his decision.

Much.

Haiti were not the most successful of footballing countries in the world. They were not even the most successful in their region. But nevertheless they were a very proud country and they tried as hard as they could to love their football team. A football team that had over the years provided very little cheer for their nation. The equivilant of a regional championship win in 1957 was all they had to show, until the glorious year of 1973 when they hosted what combined as the regional championships and more importantly, qualifiers for 1974 World Cup Finals in West Germany. And a legend was born.

Enrique had been so proud to have been a member of that 1974 squad, even though he did not take to the field in the Finals. Even though all the glory went to Manno Sannon. It had, nevertheless, been the highlight of his footballing career, nay, his very life to have rubbed shoulders with the footballing greats and for Haiti the 1974 World Cup had been a wondrous occasion. It had also become a millstone round their necks ever since.

One minute into the second half of their opening World Cup tie of the 1974 Finals, Manno Sannon sent tiny Haiti into the lead against the might Italy and wrote his name into Haitian folklore. The lead was to last only six minutes and Italy went on to win 3-1. A 7-0 drubbing followed from Poland, and although Sannon bagged a goal against the Argentine, that match too was lost, by four goals to one and tiny Haiti, the first Caribbean country to qualify for the Football World Cup, were sent home again, battered and bruised but mighty proud of their efforts.

Thats was now 31 years ago. The years had passed and Haiti had never again made it to the Finals of football's premier competition. But though the years had passed and memories faded, still burning within was a deep desire to emulate that 1974 performance. Yet such expectations continued to prove to much, and many players and managers had suffered the wrath of a countries expectations. And now, having made it to the final qualifying group, a disasterous opening five matches had left Haiti with just four points and another manager had bitten the dust.

For Enrique the task was to reach the World Cup Finals. He could only pray to God that the President had not meant 2006, but would have the good sense to realise that 2010 was the best bet. But somehow, Enrique wasn't so sure.....

hotgirl23

:thup: kutgw!

retired_rassoulis

So Far, so good, KUTGW, it's shaping up to be a cracker

shannon2007

A few notes......

Doh, ray, mi....... erm sorry, wrong sort of notes.


Ok I will be concentrating mainly on the Haitian aspect of this story and will only do probably yearly updates from the club side because, well because I want to and it's my story.

I have taken the liberty of adding all of the Haitian U-17 squad as found on a website somewhere - well actually, here.

The names and DOB's I've entered are correct but the positions I've made up and when the time comes I will post screenies of the kids. Atm they are all very young so are unlikely to be in the full squad.

There were also a couple of players I noticed in the db who had no nationality and I stole them for Haiti, although whether they actually appear is a matter of whether they are any good. Just thought I'd mention it in case some sad git pointed it out. HD. :p

Thats all.