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”Just who the **** do you think you are?! You think you can come in here and strong-arm me you little punk?
The familiar booming voice of Miles McNiell blew through the deserted corridors of the ‘Intrepid Observer Newspaper’ offices. It was a voice which projected an aura of authority and power - and rightly so: Miles McNiell is the owner of Intrepid News International PLC as well as being the editor of the Intrepid Observer Newspaper, however, Mr McNiell seems more flustered than we would usually see him.
“Please Mr McNiell - hell, I’ll call you Miles, I’d say since I’m about to destroy you we may as well be on first name terms - there is no point in raising your voice. I’m not one of those little hack peons that are so ready to quake at the sound of you getting a little cranky. You’ve heard the tape Miles, so perhaps we should just get through with the nasty business of you signing over your 70% share of the INI Empire and I’ll leave you to clear the desk.”
The other deliberate, cool, empowered voice in Mr McNiell’s office is not quite so familiar. He’s just a drifting freelance, probably brought up on a diet of ‘how Miles McNiell is destroying impartial news’ as an Undergrad and so he decided to try and get a story out of him - and boy did he! This is the type of kid that Miles McNiell has made a career out of crushing, but the little black Dictaphone on Mr McNiell’s desk heralded something of a shift in power in the impromptu meeting. One things for sure, Miles McNiell will be more careful where he meets with Government officials he is bribing from now on…..
”Listen son…..”
All of a sudden Mr McNiell’s voice was calm again, and it had more then a hint of malice within the tone, the balance of power had switched again
”…..have you no idea the amount of positions like this I’ve been in. I’ve been in this game for 25 years. I’ve owned an International corporation for 10 - you think you’re the first person to take a shot at me?! You’re NOT!! So here’s what I’ll do, I’ll give you 10 seconds to leave my office - leaving the Dictaphone, and forgetting about anything you may have been foolhardy enough to learn about me and my associates. Otherwise I’m going to push a button under my desk and very unpleasant things shall ensue from that.
Whether it was conviction, bravery or if he was frozen with fear on the spot no-one will ever know - but the teenage freelance did not move. And with the smirk of a man with £700 Million in the bank - about to be made safe again, Miles McNiell pressed the button.
The two men stared at each other. It took all of the young Journalist’s strength not to flinch from the piercing stare of Mr McNiell. All was silent….seconds passed…a minute passed…the young journalist looked around, no unpleasantries were ensuing, it was a bluff. YES! A BLUFF! The young man’s confidence grew once again.
”So, if we’re done with the theatrics, you’re signature please Mr McNiell! Pfff, a button under the desk indeed! What do you think you are? A Bond Vil-”
At that point the young man was stopped in his tracks by the feeling of cold steel against the back of his neck. A feeling unfamiliar yet terrifying, then followed the click of the weapon being cocked - the young man seized up, and a small trail of urine made it’s way down the leg of his hired suit trousers.
You should’ve left when I offered kid! I was fair. You remember the names of all the others who took a shot at me I was telling you about?? No? No-one ever does. And no-one will remember you either sonny.
A broad smirk broke across Mr McNiell’s face, “Now HE was intrepid”, he said to himself, chuckling as the young man was lead away to whatever fate awaits him.
However, within seconds the smirk was frozen on McNiell’s face, as just as the young Journo was lead away he locked eye’s with one of his staff, Derek Arthur. God knows what he was doing working at 4am in deserted offices, but he had been hiding in the shadows and had been treated to the spectacle of the kid being marched away at gunpoint. McNiell’s fierce eyes stared in disbelief, and Derek fled down the corridor and towards the exit.
“Great, that’ll have to be dealt with tomorrow“, said the weary media mogul, while rubbing his eyes. It had been a busy night.
When I woke up this morning my stomach was twisting and writhing inside my body. It wasn’t one of those familiar ‘I drank far too much last night’ or ‘what’s that thing lying next to me this morning?’ type twisted stomach. I was severely riddled with guilt. Last night I watched a young man marched to god-knows-where at gun point, and I just hid in the shadows, until I was spotted, then I simply ran away. Oh yes, cowardice is my middle name: Derek Cowardice Arthur, that would be terribly fitting.
However, the guilt was now mixing with an equally deplorable emotion - fear. What was going to happen to me today as I went into work to face Mr McNiell? A man who overnight has become something of an Al Pacino-in-Godfather Pt 2 type figure to me. Damn my curiosity, I should have just ignored the voices! Still, we’re in office hours, he can’t do much to me in a crowded newspaper office. I hope.
“Oi Deke! Sir Alan wants to see you in his office!”
That was my greeting as soon as I entered the Interped Observer Newspaper offices, and it sent a shudder down my spine. ‘Sir Alan’ being the ‘humorous’ nickname for Mr McNiell at Intrepid Towers. I’ll tell you, Alan Sugar’s a pussycat in comparison.
Suddenly I was taking baby steps, edging my way across the freshly vacuumed carpet adorned with the INI logo. I really was not looking forward to going face to face with this man, especially after that look in his eyes last night. Oh God! That Look! I paused as I reached Mr McNiell’s office, I told myself I was just admiring the Charles Rennie-MacIntosh stencilling of his name on the panelling of his door. I wasn’t. I was stalling.
‘Come In!!!’, Mr McNiell yelled.
What the….?!?! I didn’t even knock. However then I remembered the hidden cameras that are set up around the office, he had probably watched me for minutes dallying in his doorway like a prat! God, I bet those camera’s got some golddust footage last night, not that anyone will ever see it.
“Derek!!!”, Mr McNiell enthused, ”It’s good to see you again, you’ve been producing some great stuff lately. Especially that story about the London clubs merging - no-one else saw that coming. So all in all I thought it was time to have a chat.”
Oh ****, ‘a chat’ - Tony Soprano is my boss!, was my natural reaction.
“Listen Deke, I got a feature opportunity through this morning, a team’s manager has just suddenly died and I want you to cover the story from the inside of the club for a while. I have cleared it with the Chairman and I think it could make a really unique - career making a would guess - series of features. Listen I wouldn’t give you this unless I had faith in you, this is a proper exclusive and I want you to nail it.”
I hated myself for it, but….I really liked the idea. I could obviously see the lack of taste involved in such a story, but they were far outweighed by the potential scope of the story: the imagery; the emotion; the conflict; the rebuilding. Only one thing bothered me: I had my finger on the pulse of football - for want of a more tasteful phrase - in this country, and I had not heard of any managers dieing lately.
”So is he like a lower league manager then, Chief? ‘Cos I didn’t hear anything about it on the wire this morning.”
Mr McNiell gave a jovial chuckle, he was being particularly amiable today.
”No, you wouldn’t have, he was the manager of a team called Breiðablik. I’m sending you to Iceland, maybe that’ll teach you to stay out of my ****ing business! Now get the **** out of here!”
All joviality was gone, and I was happy to scamper - Derek Cowardice Arthur was bolting to Iceland.
When I was on the plane heading to Reykjavik Airport I couldn’t shake the feeling I was being followed; being watched. The coughing wheezing man was one of Miles’ henchmen, so was the old lady adjacent, so was the annoying kid kicking my chair incessantly for an hour. Paranoia was setting in.
Still, I was made more comfortable when I landed. One little stocky Icelandic fella hailed me over towards his cab and we set off. He could’ve been a henchman, I thought, but then again I think I could’ve taken him.
It turns out the flight was the least tedious part of the journey. Three hours the taxi journey took from Reykjavik to Kópavogur - three hours of incessant ramblings from an overexcited taxi driver, clearly very excited about the fare he was going to receive for this journey. Oh how I wish he didn’t speak English; and Oh how I hope I’m not the one paying for this.
After what seemed liked around 84 Days in the taxi we finally pulled up to a rather modest looking little football stadium. It had a lovely original brick fronting which held the main entrance. From there it deteriorated slightly though, there was a brick wall which ran around the perimeter of the ground, with two turnstiles knocked out of the wall in the north and south of the ground. There was one seated area, directly opposite the main entrance which held all of the 470 seats in the ground, although the capacity is apparently 3500 with standing spectators. I doubted that.
All of a sudden I was feeling kind of guilty again. I was being slightly derisory and cynical when it really was not appropriate, for god’s sake, their manager has just died - it’s fair to say that stadium housekeeping may not be forefront in their minds. For a moment I wondered if I was really any better than Miles McNiell.
In a fit of quite selfish conscience-appeasement I decided to take a moment to think of poor dead Gudni Thorarrsson. I bowed my head solemnly as a small man in his mid twenties chirpily approached the cab.
”There you go my good man!”, said the young man, handing over a wad of money to the taxi driver before turning to me, ”You must be Derek Arthur? We’ve heard so much about you, we cannot wait for you to get started! Come upstairs, Mr Eyjólfsson and Gudni Thorarrsson can’t wait to meet you.“
I was frozen. In shock. Just like back in the corridors of Intrepid Observer Newspapers the other night.
”Gudni Thorarrsson?!? But he’s……”
There was something seriously not right in Kópavogur.
I was ushered into a sparsely decorated office by the young man, before he quickly departed - clearly he was just some kid given a bit of cash to act like a damn valet, and at the same time make the club seem like they are important enough to have people escorting guest places. Fair play to them for making the effort, it was quite refreshing, hacks don’t usually get this kind of treatment - especially when they are ultimately trying to profit on a tragedy.
”It is fantastic to see you Mr Arthur!!”, said the robust older man sitting at his desk. He was Mr Eyjólfsson, club Chairman, and he seemed awful cheery given the circumstances of the past few days. However, all was not as it seemed, as illustrated by the fact that Mr Eyjólfsson was being flanked by a man of about 45 years old wearing a tracksuit whose name is Gudni Thorarrsson. He was looking quite glum, perhaps because he’s supposed to be dead.
”I’m sure you know why you are here Mr Arthur”, Mr Eyjólfsson continued, ”Mr Miles McNiell has sent you to us with a glowing reference and a remarkable CV for someone of your age. We firmly believe we are very lucky to have you and we believe you can take the club forward.”
Mr Eyjólfsson smiled somewhat manically. Gudni Thorarrsson looked like he was about to break down in tears. I smiled - confused. These chairman types do expect an awful lot, I’m only a journalist, there’s only so much that publicity can do for a club. And I didn’t even know if I had a story - my dead guy was alive! I had to pipe up.
“First of all, thanks for the welcome, you’ve made me feel really at home and I’m quite flattered, I’m not used to this kind of a welcome. But I’m really not sure how much of a help I can be here. The story seems to have changed quite a bit from what I was told by Mr McNiell and I’m not sure what my role is here.”, I was watching my feature go down the tube, I think I was doing a good job of being diplomatic.
”You are far to modest Derek, my friend. You know exactly what your role will be - the most vital role. And you are the man to fill it!”
With that Mr Eyjólfsson slipped a piece of paper across the desk towards me. This day was getting stranger by the minute, I almost didn’t dare look at what he was giving me. When I did, I saw the heading: ‘Official Contract of Management - Breiðablik’.
“You can’t be serious! I am not a football manager, I’m a journalist I came here to write about this club’s struggle. I can’t stay here.”, I was now starting to lose my cool, I felt trapped in a cage, like there was no escape from this ambush.
”Ahhh, Mr McNiell said you may seem reluctant, so he told me to tell you: ‘you cannot afford to turn down this offer Derek, if you do you will dissapoint me’”, Mr Eyjólfsson smirked at me, his eyes all of a sudden lit up with the fire of a plan gone perfectly; at that moment they could have been the eyes of Miles McNiell. And at that moment I had no other choice.
I signed my signature - my life away - on the contract. I was now the manager of Breiðablik in a remote part of Iceland…..Why did I have to be in the office late!?!
The now Ex-Manager Gudni Thorarrsson, - a distraught Gudni Thorarrsson - who had been the unknowing bate (yet also a victim) of this ambush solemnly trudged past me, handing me a clipboard with a few sheets of paper attached.
”Here, these are the squad evaluation sheets for this coming season, you’ll be needing those. Good luck this season, they’re a great bunch of guys”, with that he left the Mr Eyjólfsson’s office for the last time.
Not only had I been forced into this job through threats and a campaign of what I guess you could call ’malicious persuasion’, but I had cost a man who truly loved his post his job in the process.
As I woke up on the morning of the 2nd of January 2005, it seemed like as good a time as any to evaluate my life, as quite a bit had happened to it lately.
Gone was my bed-sit flat and on-the-go journalistic lifestyle; I was now living in a rather pretty little cottage in a lovely little Icelandic town called Kópavogur. Not only that but I was now manager of the local football team - second division Breiðablik - and life was not all that bad.
After a couple of chats with Mr Eyjólfsson, he actually seems a fairly decent guy - I guess it is awful easy to see malice in someone’s eyes when you are paranoid.
It turns out that Mr Eyjólfsson has actually employed me in good faith, Miles McNiell apparently sent my CV (the CV of a ‘young manager championed by the Intreped Observer’) with a note saying I was very interested in taking over the reigns at Breiðablik. Mr Eyjólfsson now believes he has acquired the winner of 2 FA Youth Cups in Scotland, former reserve team coach of Derby County, and former Scotland Under-19’s coach Derek Arthur - I’m fairly sure no such Derek Arthur exists! You would think Mr Eyjólfsson would’ve checked this out. Still, it was a beautifully crafted plan by Mr McNiell: had I not been in the centre of it I would have stood on the perimeter applauding.
I have also decided that it is probably safe to lay low here. I did witness a very powerful man ordain a killing, so I think the best place I could be is in a different country, plus I did always want to be a football manager when I was a younger man. I guess I may as well try and enjoy life as a Football Manager, hell I may even be good at it.
As I made the short drive (the club were good enough to provide me with a nice sporty little Renault as well as my cottage accommodation) to the clubs training ground - which was a field adjacent to the Kópavogsvöllur Stadium - I decided that today would be the day that I grew into my new role! I had spent the last few days rather confused: coming to terms with my surroundings; my situation; putting names to faces in my squad. However I was no longer paranoid my Chairman was out to get me, the guilt over the unfortunate Gudni was gone, and I was ready to manage my football club.
My Assistant Manager was a 36 year old ex-pro called Svienn Ari Gudjónsson. He had been appointed by the club shortly after I was hired, putting to bed any hopes he had of continuing to play this season to become my right hand man at Breiðablik. As usual Svienn was there to welcome me as I rolled into training.
”Good morning boss”, Svienn enthused, ”I hope you are well, all the boys have already started training this morning and they are all looking fit and raring to go. I’ll let you go and get changed and we can go over the squad evaluation sheets. We should probably decide where we need to strengthen since we have a game in 4 days.”, with that, my Assistant bounded off towards the training session he was overseeing.
Svienn’s enthusiasm got me even more fired up, a day of evaluating the squad and looking at potential strengthening of the squad was exactly what I needed to make me feel like a real manager. I was quickly forgetting the horrific events which brought me to this point, I was trying to focus on the now; and now I’m a football manager. The past was a different life.
As I walked out onto the field in my lime green Breiðablik tracksuit I met up with Svienn and we begin perusing the playing squad, all of whom were embroiled in a particularly fierce 10-a-side encounter (they must know it’s evaluation day). I looked down at Gudni Thorarrsson’s evaluation sheet and began to analyse the playing squad:
Hjörvar Hafliðason(GK, 24 y/o, Icelandic): From what I have seen in training Hjörvar will go into the season as our number one goalkeeper. He looks a good goalkeeper for this level and I have no doubt he will inspire confidence in our backline. Goalkeeper is not a position I am worried about as I have two of quality. Needs to work of his distribution though. Best Attributes: Handling & his Command of the Box
Ólafur Pétursson(GK, 32 y/o, Icelandic): Ólafur is an extremely competent all round goalkeeper and honestly: probably too good to warm the bench at this level. So I am expecting him to keep the pressure on our younger number one, as I feel competition for places is vital to the progression of the squad. Best Attributes: One on Ones & Aerial Ability
***
Þorsteinn Sveinlaugur Sveinsson(DL, 32 y/o, Icelandic): There is little doubt Þorsteinn will be a lynchpin in our defence this season. We are actually shaping up to have a fairly strong back line this season and Þorsteinn is one of the reasons for that. At 194 cm he will be a force when defending, and he has a real appetite for going forward. He will be a huge player for us - literally. Best Attributes: Jumping, Tackling & Bravery
Hans Froði Hansen(DC, 29 y/o, Faroe: 20 Caps/1 Goal): Hans is one of a few players that have international honours to their names in my squad, and his caps - at a modest level to be fair - are thoroughly merited, Hans looks a real quality defender and I will be looking for his partnership in the heart of defence with Petr Podzemsky to provide the foundation of this clubs success. Best Attributes: Heading & Marking
Petr Podzemsky [i](DC, 30 y/o, Czech): Although we have some real quality in our backline, former Viktoria Plzen man Petr is by far the most gifted. A real all round defender, he can play with the ball at his feet, starting attacks from the back or he can go through a tricky forward, punting the ball out the ground in the process. Petr should be a fantastic asset to this club if we can get the best out of him this season. Best Attributes: Flair, Concentration & Tackling
Arnar Arnarson(DC, 35 y/o, Icelandic): I have no doubt that when called upon Arnar will do a warriors job at the back. It is simply unfortunate the hard tackling defender finds himself vying it out in a particularly tough department and he may find his first team opportunities scarcer than he would like. Best Attributes: Bravery & Aggression
Árni Kristinn Gunnarsson(DC, 24 y/o, Icelandic): Árni is another player deserving much more playing time than I foresee him getting this season. He looks a really good standard of defender, just not quite at the level of Hans and Petr. However, as I said, squad competition is vital and my number one pairing will know I have a quality replacement waiting in the wings. Best Attributes: Concentration, Decisions & Teamwork
Kjartan Antonsson(DC, 28 y/o, Icelandic): Centre-back in this squad is a tough position, and im not sure he has the quality to make an impact. The harsh truth is He and Arnar Arnarson are probably vying it out for 4th choice defender, and I can see one of them moving on - and with a marker value of £3,000 (one of only 8 players in the squad with ANY market value) Kjartan looks a likely candidate. Best Attributes: Strength & Jumping
Olgeir Sigurgeirsson(D/WB R, 22 y/o, Icelandic: Olgeir looks a decent enough little full back, however I feel that this is a position that could do with strengthening, this young man is just not to the standard of my left back - and I’m very keen to have a good balance going forward and defending with my full backs. Nevertheless, with no funds to buy a replacement it looks as though he will be my right back. Best Attributes: Bravery & Stamina
Hjörvar Freyr Eiðsson(D/ M R, 23 y/o, Icelandic): Hjörvar would happily run his heart out for the team 90 minutes and give every ounce of strength in his body for the cause. Unfortunately he lacks the basic qualities needed to make it even at this level, it is a sad truth, but the kind of realisation we have to make if we are to progress in this country. He was listed for transfer by previous boss Gudni; I will be leaving him on that list. Best Attributes: Natural Fitness, Teamwork & Work Rate
***
Guðmundur Örn Guðmundsson(MR, 27 y/o, Icelandic): Guðmundur looks like a fairly good winger, he is another player who will undoubtedly give his all for the club, but he looks like he may have enough quality so that his hard work isn’t rendered redundant. He looks like he will be my first choice on the right side of midfield, although there is a bit of competition, and the coming friendlies will no doubt provide food for thought for me. Best Attributes: Work Rate, Influence & Composure
Ásgeir Ingi Einarsson(M RC, 19 y/o, Icelandic): The first of the Einarsson twins now! Ásgeir is not the most gifted of players but he is - funnily enough - a very similar player to his brother. He plays with the fearless enthusiasm of youth and has a real willingness to run at players, despite the fact it is arguable whether he has the quality to do so, or to deliver a telling ball afterwards. Best Attributes: Pace & Dribbling
Kristján Ingvi Einarsson(MR, 19 y/o, Icelandic): Now the second of the Einarsson twins who are looking to usurp Guðmundur Örn Guðmundsson on the right wing this season. Again, Kristján has plenty of pluck and willingness to go forward but will have to improve as the season goes on to displace Guðmundur. The sad thing is there may not be room enough for both Einarsson’s at the club. Best Attributes: Flair & Pace
Sævar Pétursson(M LC/ ST, 30 y/o, Icelandic): With such a small squad, and the inevitable injury crisis, versatility will be a key factor this season and Sævar possesses said versatility. It also helps that he is a fairly competent footballer. Although not someone who will be in my First XI when everyone is fit, im sure Sævar will see plenty of minutes this season. Best Attributes: Acceleration & Stamina
Hreiðar Bjarnason(MC, 31 y/o, Icelandic: 3 Caps): For a man with 3 caps for Iceland I am quite underwhelmed with Hreiðar to be perfectly honest. I expected him to be clearly my most gifted central midfielder, instead he is down in the dogfight with the rest of them - fighting for a starting slot. Time will tell if the undoubted class of the man who was playing Premier League football at Fylkir just two season ago can once again show through. Best Attributes: Bravery & Creativity
Hákon Sverrisson(MC, 31 y/o, Icelandic): My Captain. I’m not sure whether he will play the attacking role or the withdrawn role in my 442 Diamond formation, but he will definitely occupy one of them, and he will definitely be leading the team. Hákon is simply a born leader, and after 11 years with the club is a bit of a legend in these parts, and I have no doubt that he will be a huge asset to us this season. Best Attributes: Influence & Composure
Kristján Óli Sigurðsson(MC, 24 y/o, Icelandic): Kristján will probably be fighting it out with former - I say ‘former’ after looking at his current state - Iceland international Hreiðar Bjarnason for whatever central midfield berth is not taken by Hákon Sverrisson. And it should be an interesting battle, both players are decent footballers, with plenty of scope for improvement, and I’ll be looking for plenty of progress from them as the season progresses and the competition for midfield places hots up. Best Attributes: FlaI & Long Shots
Marel Baldvinsson [i](AM L/ ST, 24 y/o, Icelandic: 14 Caps): I have absolutely no idea why this man is in my squad! After floating about in the Belgian Premier league with Stabaek then Lokeren he has somehow bounced back to the Icelandic Second Division - Mr Baldvinsson should fire his agent. Not that I’m complaining, he is a tremendously gifted winger who will excel out wide or up front for us and we are incredibly lucky to have him. He should be setting this division alight this season with his quality. Without. A. Doubt. Best Attributes: Heading, Jumping, Pace & Crossing
***
Bjarki Pétursson [i](ST, 33 y/o, Icelandic): Former Fylkir and ÍA star Bjarki is our archetypal ‘big man’ up front. We will be looking to him to hold up the ball, win balls in the air, and bang in the goals this season. He will be a huge player for this season as he is vital to my tactics, my only concern is whether his 33 year old legs will take a whole season without packing in - as I simply can’t afford to replace him! Best Attributes: Influence, Jumping & Finishing
Eyþór Páll Ásgeirsson [i](ST, 19 y/o, Icelandic): Teenage Eyþór is pretty much my second striker by default, simply due to a lack of options in the striking department. The truth is he is not particularly talented, but I expect plenty of work rate when he’s out there and I can only hope his enthusiasm and speed working off Bjarki can grab him a few goals. Best Attribute: Pace
After training was over and our part-time squad went off to their ‘other’ jobs, me and Svienn sat in the office and had a chat about the current state of the squad. There were certainly obvious areas that we had to strengthen in: right back; and attacking midfielder as all of our current midfielders were more comfortable holding in the middle of the park; and a striker. The only problem was that Svienn was shaking his head every time I mentioned bringing someone in. It seemed this was not a ‘buying’ club - due to a lack of money to ‘buy’ with!
However, I needed players, we had a good little squad for this level, but it could be better - and by now I was becoming increasingly determined to have a good crack at this management lark; it beats journalism!
So before we went our separate ways after training I gave Svienn a mandate to find me potential signings in these positions in the next few days, and we would go over them before the home friendly with Premier League Keflavik. And with that we went our separate ways for the day.
As the day of my first match in charge of Breiðablik approached I found myself becoming more and more excited. Granted, this was not nearly management at the highest level, but I still felt that I was - for the first time in my life - doing something I loved.
The past few days in training had been a good laugh, and I was starting to really get to know the players; and they, in turn, were looking good in training. So, all in all there was reason to be confident looking ahead to my first game in charge tomorrow, however tonight was about focus. Svienn was coming over to the cottage to talk about potential signings - I felt the conversation may be a short.
As I answered my door Svienn was holding a large white plastic box.
”It is a Fax Machine! Courtesy of Mr Eyjólfsson, so we can send some faxes to clubs; I have players for you.”, he said, sounding almost surprised in himself that he had found any targets.
”Great! I ask for a right back; he buys me a ****ing fax machine!”, I joked, smiling, as I welcomed Svienn into the cottage.
”Fax machine first; then right back”, Svienn said, heading for the living room.
As we sat down at the living room table Svienn pulled out a few sheets of paper, each sheet had a players name, profile, club and contacts details. The pile wasn’t very big, but at least there was a pile.
After a few coffees and lengthy discussions about the players (the tedious details of which I will spare you) we decided to make a couple of offers. We had been told that we could not offer any money for players, but that we could offer to give the selling clubs upto 50% of any future fees, we hoped that would be an incentive.
So late night offers went out to: Magnús Einarsson, an attacking midfielder who can play anywhere along the midfield or up front; young attacking midfielder Guðjón Aðalsteinn Guðmundsson; and Ásbjörn Jónsson who looks a promising striker. That trio all come from non-league Afturelding, who look to have some great little players for a non-league outfit.
Away from the (hopefully) rich pickings of Afturelding, offers were also made for 32 Year old right back Georg Birgisson of non-league Stjarnan (with whom former Aberdeen youngster Calum Bett is currently contracted), and 34 year old attacking midfielder or striker Ingólfur R Ingólfsson who could potentially bring a killer touch to the midfield.
Only time would tell how successful these ‘well, we’re offering nothing, but you can have a cut when we flog him’ offers would prove, but now that those faxes were sent and we had done a good nights work my mind began to wander. So Svienn said his goodbyes and headed home; and I headed back to dream of great glories to come - starting tomorrow.
So perhaps the 47 person crowd, the drizzly weather, and the average quality of player on show isn’t everyone’s idea of a fairytale, but as that whistle blew and my first game in charge kicked off I could not have been happier.
And it was a shame there were only 47 people in the crowd, because we came out the block as if we were being cheered on by 60,000. Snappy passing, good movement and dangerous balls into the box by the wingers littered the opening 5 minutes, and we were looking a promising side.
Indeed, it only took until the 8th minute for that early pressure to pay off. One of the players I was quick to doubt in training, Olgeir Sigurgeirsson, picked up a loose ball on the right wing and showed great vision to slip a delectable through ball to put Bjarki Pétursson through on goal; he, in turn, showed the composure I would expect from our top striker by thrashing the ball past the Keflavik keeper. 1-0 and we were flying.
The confidence was flowing through the side and we were playing some really good stuff, good nippy passing. However as Keflavik began to get their act together we lost that cutting edge and we began to struggle to create chances with the regularity of the first 15 minutes.
Infact as the half wore on Keflavik began to come into the game - as you would expect. A couple of nice moves stretched our backline and Hjörvar Hafliðason was forced to parry wide a shot on the stroke of half time,
With former Icelandic international Hreiðar Bjarnason and young speed demon Ásgeir Ingi Einarsson coming on for the beginning of the second half I was looking for us to charge out of the blocks once again, but it didn’t quite materialise, although Baldvinsson was unlucky not to have his name on the scoresheet with a great free kick which clipped the outside of the post on the hour mark.
All in all the second half was a very scrappy affair, perhaps due to the 13 (oh yes, they substituted substitutes) substitutions made by Keflavik. And despite having to withstand a little bit of pressure towards the end of the match our defence coped marvellously and we saw the game out for a great 1-0 victory.
A Tale of The Fourth Estate 
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