retired_007bondgirl

best story ive read so far,this is OFFICIALLY the best story on here, hu agrees???????

retired_gohilharshajit

i agree, briliant mate well done keep it up :thup:

retired_lovelyminoo

Thanks for the comments guys

I'd had enough of managing this club and the story there has kind of run its course so I felt a change of scenery would keep the story fresh.

retired_kjthes

Just read this in one sitting. Very good story so far. Long may it continue I say.

retired_gohilharshajit

any chance of knowing when the next update is due? looking forward to it

retired_lovelyminoo

I started on the next part before the weekend, but it won't be until the middle of the week it'll be posted I think. Gotta determine what I'll be doing next.

retired_shift23

i read the start of this story a weeks back, when you were upto getting a job i think, or something like that. anyway i was enjoying it then but now...its bloody fantastic. well done mate. :thup:

retired_lovelyminoo

17th November 2007
My tenure with the club has come to an end. One moment of madness has undone all the good work I've done over the last year. I was gutted, an absolute wreck.

We'd agreed to keep the incident in the pub between ourselves and make sure no-one else knew about it, but being such a small place, and with Lenny sporting a large cut that was made even more obvious by the oversized bandage strapped to his face I knew that the news would have spread like wild-fire around the town.

I had nowhere to go. My wages were so low that I couldn't afford a flight home. I took a taxi out of the town and headed 30 miles down the road. The last of my savings were going to be used staying in a B&B for the next week.

It was a very small place. A bungalow in fact. There really wasn't any privacy. As soon as I stepped out of my room I was in the kitchen, which always seemed to be full of different people. Something I didn't understand given that there was only 2 rooms in the place, and one of those was occupied by the owners.

I tried in my best Norwegian dialect to ask if there was a phone socket anywhere so that I could check my emails, just to see what jobs were about, but they couldn't understand a word I was saying. In fact, they resorted to grunts of “ugh, ugh” and waving bread in my face as if to ask “do you want something to eat Mr. Alien?”.

**** it, I thought. I just hunted around for a socket in their living room and plugged in. 20 jobs available. I applied for 3. Lyon (obviously, given my track record so far, they'd be foolish to turn me down), Degerfors in the Swedish First Division and Krokom who were biding their time in the Swedish Second Division Middle Gotaland.

Why not a Scottish club I hear you say/think? My travel money doesn't stretch that far. Well, it doesn't stretch anywhere really, so I'm pinning my hopes on a job in Sweden. Lyon can afford to fly me over themselves if I get that one too.


5th December 2007
I'm officially homeless dear diary. I almost managed to string out 3 weeks in the B&B before they flung me out onto the street for not paying them. I did try the old “Don't you know who I am?” remark, and it turns out they did know who I was which made matters worse. They burned my socks.

My laptop now only has it's battery to live on, so I'm using it as sparingly as possible. This morning Lyon emailed me back to tell me my job application was unsuccessful. Out of desperation for a place to stay I emailed Steve but as yet I've had no reply.

This isn't how things were meant to turn out was it? God, if only Lenny had pressed charges I'd be sorted. Living it up in a concrete cell for a few weeks waiting for my trial. Maybe I could turn myself in? I could tell the police I've been responsible for paying people to pleasure others? In a way it's true, footballers are there to entertain, so I wouldn't be lying.

Sod's law was that there was no holding cells in where I was staying. It was a further 15 miles up the road and I had no energy left to go there. I'm writing this entry from a small alcove by a nightclub that has just closed for the night and I just want to cry. I want to blub myself delerious only for someone, just anyone to grab my hands and tell me “everything will be okay son, everything will be fine.”


9th December 2007
Out of desperation I called Steve on his mobile continuously until he answered. He wasn't really in a listening mood after what had happened to his sweetheart Lenny but I told him straight what my situation was and fairs fair, he did take pity on me. He told me to meet him at the train station where I was staying and he'd be there to greet me later on in the evening.

The train station was only 5 miles down the road, but it seemed like a marathon journey away, especially after living on only the lukewarm scraps that the restaurants were tipping into the waste at the end of a customers meal.

Hours passed as I sat in the freezing cold for Steve. He said he'd be here at 7pm and it was now 9:30pm, well past the time that the fish was tossed into the bin. There goes dinner.

10pm – still no sign of the bastard. I rang his mobile but there was no answer. What the hell was going on???

10:30pm – two text messages sent to him, 5 more calls. Still no reply. Then my phone rang. It was Steve.

He had told me that he was very sorry, but he had been away in Paris for a few days, and his phone wasn't working abroad. He had decided to go along with the club scouts to run his eye over a player they were planning on signing.

Whilst there he got a terrible virus and it meant that he couldn't travel (back and forth to the toilet every 5 minutes, vomiting etc.)

I stopped him short with a plethora of English expletives mixed with some new words I had picked up from my time in Norway. It was exactly the same excuse I had used on him some months back. I ended the call and stuffed my phone back in my pocket muttering at what a bastard he was under my breath.

The phone rang again, and once again it was Steve. I let him know in no uncertain terms that what stunt he had just pulled was not funny in the slightest and he let out a small chuckle and told me to be thankful that I had only spent a few days out on the streets fending for myself and not the several weeks he himself had endured. Touché Steve.

A few seconds later a car pulled up beside the station and the car horn beeped a few times. I looked over to see who it was and there was Steve, mobile against his lug, waving over to me.

To show my gratitude that he had rescued me from certain starvation and death by hypothermia I laid into him about using a mobile when in driving. It took me the whole drive home before I dragged myself away from my stubbornness to tell him “thank you”.

Turns out that Lenny doesn't know I'm coming home by the way. And he's off on a business trip until Christmas Eve. If Lenny was still here, then it's highly doubtful that I'd be allowed to stay, and I'll need to be out the door before his Highness returns.

The need to get myself a post at another club now had a fast approaching deadline attached to it.

patrickgudes

good story mate..
could i ask which leagues and countrys did you pick at the beggining of ur game

retired_lovelyminoo

U.S.A (MLS Only)
England (Conference North/South and Above)
France (CFA and Above)
Germany (Regional Division and Above)
Greece (National B Division and Above)
Italy (Serie C2 and Above)
Holland (First Division and Above)
Norway (Second Division and Above)
Portugal (Second Division and Above)
Ireland (First Division and Above)
Scotland (Third Division and Above)
Spain (Second Division B and Above)
Sweden (Second Division and Above)
Wales (Premier League Only)
Australia (Australian Premiership Only)
Brazil (Third Division and Above)