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I've been reading this forum for a while now and thought it was about time I made a contribution, so what follows is my first attempt at an FM Story.
For the record, I'm running FM06 v6.0.2 with English leagues loaded down to League 2 and all German leagues loaded. I've also loaded a stack of players from eastern Europe.
This is a work of fiction based on a real FM06 game; use of real people is necessary but only in a fictional way, and any historical facts that are wrong I have changed to suit my story (or I've made a mistake ).
I sat in the smoke filled bar of The Viking Pub, a small holdall at my feet that contained all my worldly goods. In my pocket was the change from the crisp twenty pound note that they’d given me as they’d let me out of prison. All I’d had to do was cross the road from Cardiff Nick and stumble into the pub. Now, with my second pint in front of me I began to feel the hopelessness of my situation, and the hardest thing to accept was that it had all been my own fault, and it could so easily have been very very different.
Growing up in South Wales, I had resisted the pressure to join the egg-chasing set with fierce determination and had steadfastly stuck to my footballing preferences. This had paid dividends when spotted by scouts whilst playing schoolboy football by the local team, Cardiff City, who signed me up. I made quite an impact too, and by the time I was eighteen was highly rated and quite a prospect for the future. So much so that Aston Villa poached me and added me to their Youth team. Leaving home had been okay, bearing in mind that my father was originally from Birmingham, though he was a tad miffed that I’d joined Villa and not his beloved Blues, though that didn’t worry me in the least, being a Villa fan!
It had been like a dream come true for me, not only being part of a historic Youth Cup winning team, but also being at Villa during the glory years of 80/81 and 81/82. The decline that followed, relegation down to the old third division, saw me make my first team debut at that level and I held onto that place for a few seasons, culminating in the promotion year back to the top flight.
Now, I’d never been a pacey winger or a free scoring striker, my game was all about giving ninety minutes of box-to-box graft from the centre of midfield. Mine was never the glory therefore, in fact you could say that I was almost an unsung hero in that promotion side, but I certainly played my part. That’s why I was so disappointed to be transfer listed by Graham Taylor. His was the decision that started turning my wonderful dream life into a living nightmare.
Sold off without ever appearing in the top flight, I once again found myself playing in the lower leagues for a series of clubs. I guess I just never got over being unwanted by Villa, and started to throw myself away. The drinking and smoking started to affect my game, successive managers dropped me and sold me on until I washed up back where it all started, Cardiff City. Fitting in some ways then that my last competitive game was for the same team as my first. I retired early, too knackered to train properly and my name only a memory at the club I loved more than any other and had helped to promotion back to the top flight.
However, it was Cardiff City who once again gave me a future. They got me into some counselling and started me off on my coaching courses, and I managed to hold it together for long enough to get all my badges. I believe that I would’ve been alright at that stage if Cardiff had given me a coaching job proper, but no sooner had I qualified than they let me go, part of a swathing reorganisation under their new owners and management. That finished me. The evil drink called and I went willingly to her, cosied up comfortably with her and went right off the rails in spectacular fashion. That’s how I ended up in prison, doing five years for burglary. I was a burglar, stealing peoples possessions to feed my gambling, alcohol and nicotine driven existence.
And here I was, not even an hour out and already in a pub with a pint. At least this was by choice and not need though, three and a half years without had certainly cured that addiction! I downed the rest of the ice cold lager and left the place, the summer sun welcome on my pale skin and the fresh (ish) air blew the smoke out of my lungs, lungs that hadn’t tasted the acrid smoke of tobacco for three years.
I caught a train to Penarth and found the digs that they’d arranged for me. It was only a bedsit on Victoria Road but it was clean and I didn’t have to share it with anyone. By the end of the afternoon I’d done the rounds of post-prison offices, benefits and potential counselling, possible career advice and all that trash, and sat down in my room to contemplate what my future would be, what little niceties that fate had in store! As it was to turn out, she was going into a kinder phase.
I sat in the park overlooking the boating lake, it was a fine spring day and young mothers were pushing or toddling their offspring around the park, getting them to throw nuggets of stale bread to the ever hungry ducks. My eyes saw all this but it hardly registered in my head as my mind was off on another track.
I’d sat in that bedsit in Penarth that very first night out of prison and carefully went through that little holdall. The clothes and personal bits I’d tossed aside but spent hours looking at my coaching certificates and at the two promotion medals that I had hoarded jealously through all the crap times, and wondered if there was any way back.
Well, fate certainly was kind to me. It seemed that all those hours coaching the prison team had made an impression on the governor of the establishment who had recommended me to a friend of his, a friend of his who just happened to be the Chairman of Cwmbran Town FC. The job offer had come swiftly and I was just as fleet of foot in accepting a coaching position with the club who competed in the League of Wales.
It had been just the tonic I’d needed. Prison had cured the addictions that had destroyed my life, but it was only because of prison that I had been given another chance and I did everything to repay the faith the governor had put in me. Cwmbran finished the season mid-table, which was good for them, by which time I’d moved into a rented flat in the town and was at last paying my own way again, working with a smile on my face and enjoying life at long last. The demons had been exorcised.
But today I had a decision to make, a biggie at that too! Cwmbran had released me as soon as the season finished, with words of genuine regret on their part, and promises of a glowing reference. Finances just wouldn’t allow Cwmbran to keep the staffing levels as they had, and two coaches were released, me one of them. It hadn’t come as a shock nor had it fazed me unduly, indeed I had already been exploring avenues to reach my new goal in life, to manage a club. The decision that I was pondering was whether to take up a management position in the UK or to move abroad away from the very harsh spotlight of the British media. The decision had a very real focus too, as there were two jobs on offer!
I sat in my office at the Stadion Oberwerth, Koblenz and reflected upon the press conference that had just finished. It had gone very well on the whole. The journalists had given me some credit by mentioning my Villa days and not putting too much emphasis on what had followed, for which they would be rewarded in the coming months. I didn’t forget acts of kindness, even from the Press! The fans were cautiously optimistic at my appointment it appeared, and shared the board’s view that to stay in the German Regional Division South would be an achievement. Despite that, there was a transfer kitty equivalent to GBP 85,000 and some room in the wage budget to allow it to be spent. Certainly a challenge, but not an impossible one I thought.
As I waited for Klaus Sussmeyer, my assistant manager, to join me for a staff and squad review meeting, my mind wandered back to the park in Cwmbran just a short while previously.
Hereford United or Koblenz? It seemed like a straightforward ‘one or the other’ type choice when you said it aloud but nothing was ever that easy. The Bulls had offered a one year deal but expected promotion back to the League from the Conference. They offered no transfer funds and were already over their wage budget. Worse, perhaps, was that the fans and media expected promotion too. I liked the idea of managing in England, and my obvious long term goal was to return to Villa Park one day, but my thoughts were that this job at Edgar Street would be just too much too soon. On the other hand, I knew nothing of Koblenz and in truth very little about German football.
Before making the final decision, I’d caught a flight to Germany to see for myself what was being offered.
Fifty seven miles south east of Koln, where the Mosel and Rhine Rivers meet, lies the historic city of Koblenz. Established as a military outpost around 8BC, it takes its name from the Latin ‘confluentes’ or confluence (relating to the rivers) and is now home to nearly 110,000 people. It’s streets and river frontage on the left bank of the Rhine cover over 100km2. It’s a delightful city with wonderful architecture and a real sense of history in a dramatic setting. In 1911 it’s football team TuS Koblenz, was founded as a semi-professional club and now occupies a 17,000 capacity stadium with, it has to be said, fairly basic training facilities.
In truth, after spending a day exploring the city I was already more than half sold on the job, and what doubts I did still harbour were quickly dispelled by chairman Bruno Gauggel when we met the following day. I agreed a one year contract at GBP 1,200 per week. Thereafter everything went into ‘fast forward’, or so it seemed. Within no time at all I returned to Wales, surrendered the rental flat there and flew back to Germany to take up residence in a charming flat with a balcony overlooking the Rhine.
I then had a free week to settle in before taking up my appointment and I’d made the most of it, taking a year long lease on a car and taking trips out and around the city which had really captivated me. I’d found a lovely cafeteria too, and as cooking had never been my ‘thing’ quickly got into a routine of taking most of my meals there and soon built up a rapport with the owner Rudi, a die-hard Koblenz fan, and his Spanish wife Maria.
Klaus arrived with the usual German punctuality. I’d already had an informal meeting with Klaus and knew that he was in his second year at Koblenz and was a year or two younger than myself. My first impression of him had been a positive one and I was confident that we would get along fine. Looking at the files he had brought and the detailed notes therein I began to believe the stories I’d heard of German efficiency and was encouraged by the man’s thoroughness.
There was only one coach at the club, thirty-five year old Andreas Stein, whom Klaus spoke very highly of. I determined that we should seek one or two other coaches to ease the workload, and Klaus was in agreement of this. He even offered to make a few ‘phone calls to see who was available locally that he could recommend, and I was happy for him to do that.
Marco Probst and Alexander Meyer were our two Physio’s and were deemed adequate for our needs. Scouts Timo Simon and Daniel Reimann completed an all German, full time staff that I would be working with. Stefan Kuntz held the position of Director of Football, and I had my first meeting with him scheduled for the following day.
Klaus talked me through each player in the squad. There were twenty-one of them, eight of which were on part-time contracts.
We have three goalkeepers, all German. Peter Auer is the oldest and most experienced at 33 and Andreas Muller is the youngest at 20. Michael Gurski is 26 but looks a better bet for the number one shirt than the others at this stage, though early opinions can easily change after match performances.
There are four centre backs, Anthony Tieku from Ghana is 31 and will be first choice alongside 27 year old German Andreas Richter. Competent cover is in the form of 27 year old German Rudiger Ziehl and 25 year old American Josh Grenier. We have an outstanding left back in 33 year old Oliver Straube, who’s German, but no other left back. Tieku can play there but that would weaken the centre of defence so a Left Back is a must have. Greek International Evangelos Nessos, 27, will be first choice right back with 26 year old Dutchman Brenny Evers as cover.
In midfield we have the 29 year old Senegalise winger Salif Keita and 19 year old German Philip Langen. Mannheim are sniffing around Langen and have made an enquiry which I rebuffed until I have a clearer picture of how things are. Our only right winger is 24 year old local Anel Dzaka, so in addition to a left back we will need a right winger. In the centre we are overstaffed with defensive midfielders. We will keep 29 year old Croat Dubravko Kolinger and 23 year old German Ralf Klingmann for this role, and place the 28 year old Bosnian Nihad Mujakic on the transfer list. Klaus will inform the player later. 23 Year old Portugese Bruno Meirelles will provide cover in the attacking midfield role for 22 year old German Domenico Cozza.
Up front we have only three strikers on the books, so I will be looking to add another if possible. Lithuanian International Dimitrijus Guscinas will lead the line alongside 21 year old German Denni Patschinsky. 19 year old local lad Johannes Rahn will provide cover for now.
After this lengthy and detailed meeting, Klaus left to make a few ‘phone calls before calling it a day and I went over the squad lists once again. On paper it looked like a very poor side, and in truth with the objective being to avoid relegation it probably was, but with a bit of luck and a following wind I felt we could do the job!
The following morning I met with Stefan Kuntz and advised him of my team appraisal. My first reaction was to dislike the man, based I guess on the feeling that I didn’t need him, however he was keen to help where he could with contracts but promised not to interfere which suited me well.
I then met with my scouts and sent Daniel off to Eastern Europe where I was sure that there would be some inexpensive talent for hire, and got Timo sizing up the next opposition.
The pace continued to accelerate as I got things geared up for the first pre-season friendly scheduled for July 12th. I appointed two coaches to help in the running of the day to day training and take the pressure of Klaus and myself a little. Jan Zlomanczuk, a 53 year old Pole brought experience and a great sense of belief to the club, whilst 33 year old Czech Republican Jaroslav Dvorak brought an infectious enthusiasm and drive that complimented the existing staff beautifully.
It was a wonderful, balmy Wednesday evening as I sat on my balcony sipping an excellent Canernet Sauvignon from Australia. Around me, or rather below me, the city went about its business oblivious to my presence and my thoughts of the previous week’s events. Yes, only a week!
I’d taken my seat in the home dug-out for the first time as Chiasso visited us for the first of three friendlies arranged for the week. Chiasso scored just eighteen seconds into the game, but did very little else. Guscinas equalised for us very early in the second half and we should have gone on to win but couldn’t break them down for the all important winning goal. At least not a losing start, and we hadn’t let our heads drop after falling behind so early on.
Osnabruck came to town a few days later and again took the lead on us and set about pummelling us in truth. I changed the system to a diamond and urged the lads on for the second half and was rewarded with goals from Patchinsky and Guscinas late on to take the win. What a feeling!
Valladolid visited us next and despite thinking privately that we would get well beaten, I sent the lads out to go for the win, however first half injuries to Keita and Guscinas forced me into a more defensive system purely due to lack of personnel. It finished goalless and I had to praise the players for a first class defensive display that coped well with the Spaniards pacey attack and set pieces.
Also during the week, the draw for the first round of the German cup had paired us with Aachen at home at the Oberwerth to be played mid-August, and Nihad Mujakik had moved on to Stuttgarter K for GBP 5,000. All of which had pleased my new friend Rudi, who was doing wonders to champion my cause with the local fans!
I’d also had to learn some worrying lessons that week. It appeared that even players out of work and coming to the end of their careers didn’t fancy Koblenz. With the injury to Guscinas likely to keep him out for anything up to eight weeks that gave me a real and immediate problem too. More positively though, the games played had confirmed my early appraisals of the squad and I took a little confidence from the knowledge that my judgement wasn’t that bad!
As the sun went down slowly I had to admit to myself that the three performances so far had been better than expected overall and I was encouraged by that. Two more friendlies were scheduled for the coming week, away at Dresden-Nord and then at Ulm. I really needed to get three players in before the season started proper on August 6th, and this I determined to set my maximum effort to from early the next morning.
As the month drew to an end I took the opportunity to take a few hours out to dine with the Chairman. Bruno had been careful to let me settle myself in and find my own way as it were, but was keen for a personal update from me and suggested that we do so over dinner.
The trip to Dresden-Nord had been a successful one. We didn’t really give them a chance in the game and a brace from Patschinsky and a screamer from Kolinger secured an easy win.
Straight on the back of that game I was able to introduce two new faces to the squad. Right winger Christian Schlosser, aged 20, was on a season long loan from near neighbours Koln and would bring much to the squad as well as to Dzaka who had had very little rest time, and similarly left back Roman Goretskyi. The Ukranian left back is 23 and had been captured for GBP 1,000 on a three year contract.
The subsequent trip to Ulm would see them both making their debuts as half time substitutes in a game which finished our pre-season nicely with a Johannes Rahn hatrick inside the first fifteen minutes and another Patschinsky goal before the half hour. The 4-0 win assured, I dabbled with substituitions and tactics for the rest of the game and was deeply pleased not be Ulm’s manager.
We still desperately needed a striker though and this was my main concern just a week or so away from the start of the season proper.
As it transpired, Bruno was more than pleased with how things were going, and the evening turned more into a social occasion than a ‘working meal’. When I returned to my flat later that evening I realised just how well I had settled in at Koblenz and how much I was enjoying life. A far cry from what I had called life eight or so months previously, that now seemed eons ago.
The search for a striker continued as July became August and the new season got closer by the day.
The morning of the 6th dawned very brightly, and for me very early as I awoke with the dawn full of nerves on this the day of my first competitive match in charge of Koblenz. Eschborn, the opponents to visit the Oberwerth today, were newly promoted to the Regional Division South and had a team that Timo desribed as ‘capable but lacking pace in attack’.
I took my morning coffee on the balcony, only vaguely aware that the city was waking up all around me on this glorious August Saturday morning.
It had not been a good week. Bids for three strikers had been accepted only for each of them in turn to reject any approach from Koblenz, which meant that I would have only two fit strikers for my first league game. Also, midfielder Bruno Meirelles had injured his chest overdoing things with weights in the gym which put him out for up to four weeks, and after the game today Klaus and I had to make some progress on the twenty players in the squad who were into their last year of contract! Morale, despite this however, was very good in the camp and the players were looking forward to some real action again after the summer lay-off.
The early morning sunshine had faded away as I made the short drive to my office at the Oberwerth, and the forecast for our 2.30pm kick off was wet and warm. The Regional Division South consisted of eighteen teams and I was allowed the luxury of naming seven substitutes for each match, though I could still only use three. Further, there were some regulations about how many German born players had to be in the matchday squad, but that wasn’t about to cause me any problems.
Arriving at the stadium I parked my car and walked slowly to my office for a pre-match meeting with Klaus before a light lunch with the players, nerves starting to jangle a bit more as the realisation dawned that this was it, that there was no turning back. The season started right now! Just like the rain!
The cafeteria was a little more crowded than usual when I finally got there that evening for dinner. Rudi gave me a huge bear hug when I arrived and I was cheered to my table by the locals. Rudi had arranged a screened off table for me so that I could eat privately and tonight he had provided ‘on the house’ a bottle of excellent Shiraz from sunny Australia.
My first competitive match couldn’t really have gone any better. We had simply taken Eschborn apart from the first minute, our midfield completely dominating their unusual 4-1-2-1-2 formation. Johannes Rahn started the scoring with a diving header after 14 minutes and made it two on the half hour with a more straightforward header from a pinpoint Dzaka cross. At half time I told them to keep their concentration and go and do it all again, replacing Cozza who had a minor knock with Klingmann to really solidify our midfield in search of the clean sheet. Rahn completed his hatrick, rounding the ‘keeper to slot home after 54 minutes and the game was over. Nessos picked up a knock and so Straube was switched to right back and Goretskyi had made his league debut at left back. Rahn tired as the game wore on, so I’d moved Leita into a more attacking position and put Langen on the left wing to see out the result. Our only scare in front of nearly 5000 fans was in the very last of the 94 minutes when Eschborn rattled the cross bar, otherwise the defence had been simply magnificent. We were off to a flyer, three points in the bag and a clean sheet to boot!
Klaus and I had been so pleased that we’d waived our post-match meeting in favour of a Sunday morning session, but it was still late enough by the time I’d finished with the local press when I finally made the short drive home, and the even shorter walk to the cafeteria to eat.
Freshly showered I slid unsteadily into bed. The Shiraz had gone beautifully with the excellent steak cooked and served by Maria, and the atmosphere had been intoxicating too. I did wonder what it would be like when we inevitably lose a game, but resolved to still go there come what may. What a simply wonderful day to be a football manager, to be Koblenz manager even!
A week later found me much less spirited. I ate my meal in the caferia, and the atmosphere, though less of a party one, was still very warm and welcoming, and the wine was just as good except I was paying.
Contract negotiations with a couple of players had commenced and were ongoing, but two players had flat out refused new deals, one of them Richter a key centre back who had promptly got himself sent off at the Moselstadion as we slumped to a 1-0 defeat at the hands of Trier. A good side, and they’d played well, but with a depleted team for 80 minutes we were only ever going to hang on for a draw, and as it turned out lost. Not only that but left winger Keita picked up an injury that would sideline him for four weeks.
So with him out injured and Richter suspended, we took on Pfullendorf at the Oberwerth in front of nearly 5000 and never got out of the starting blocks. The players looked tired and out of sync’ and though we defended well and could have equalised late on, we went down to a second 1-0 reverse and ended the week on a real low.
Klaus had been given my brief on contract renewals and I’d left him to try and sort some things out whilst I concentrated on bringing some much needed new faces to the club.
Rudi was cheerful as usual as I left and Maria gave me an encouraging smile, but I couldn’t help feeling that I was letting these people, the fans, down already. Our next game was Aachen from the second division in the German Cup and I was determined to get a more positive display from the lads.
Just About Managing 
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