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The Avenue Looks Well Worn Now, But Lets Go Down It One Last Time. Perhaps.
Stuart Redmond looked happily at the check for £1M he had just been handed from the lottery bloke and then smiling, wondered what the hell he was going to spend it on. A house, a Limo, a Yacht, a hell of a lot of expensive computer equipment - and it still wasn't all spent. Redmond was no idiot, and he knew how to wisely invest money to ensure he would be able to live happily ever after. He would buy a football club.
The problem was, there weren't many football clubs you could buy really for a quarter of a million pounds. But money talks, and Redmond felt some sort of nostalgic feeling when he recieved a letter from the Chairman of Bradford (Park Avenue) AFC, offering him the club for a fee of £25,000 plus twenty five tokens from Walkers crips. It was a done deal before the stamp had even been licked.
With a quarter of a million pounds to invest in his new club - who had just been saved from relegation from the Conference North because Hyde had failed to show up at the Promotion day organised by the League. If they couldn't be arsed doing that, the League said, then we don't really want them do we. Anyway, with a quarter of a million pounds to invest, the fans were hopeful that they would get A) a new manager and B) a lot of money for that manager to spend. A) was right, B) was not quite so right because most of Redmonds money went on upgrading the training and youth facilities, which the new chairman deemed more important. £48,000 was left for the new manager - the old one having been sacked because he was quite clearly pish. Or was that pished? Doesn't really matter, he was gone.
Redmond then had to get on with the task of finding a new manager, and thinking he knew all there was to know about football he placed the advert in the Telegraph and waited for the response. Five application forms were waiting on his desk, having been placed there by his newly hired secretary, who wishes to remain annonymous. Four of the candidates had very good CV's. Experience in the higher echelons of the league, the odd minor success, the odd failure, but all four would probably have made decent efforts of managing the club. And indeed, Redmond might well have invited them in for interview had he not opened the fifth envelope - although he had been dithering about whether or not to take the money.
The form was a complete mess, badly written and smudged with what he hoped to hell was chocolate.
I wud like a job wiv u., was all the application form stated, but it when Redmond looked at the name on the form he knew he had found his man.
The name was, of course, Dave Green.
03-29-2006, 10:01 PM
The Avenue Looks Well Worn Now, But Lets Go Down It One Last Time. Perhaps. Post #2
All we need is Mrs. Doyle and Jason Young. Nice start at recapturing your writing form! I can still remember the three nights it took me to read your first BPA story in late 2002.
03-29-2006, 11:24 PM
The Avenue Looks Well Worn Now, But Lets Go Down It One Last Time. Perhaps. Post #3
That Dave Green didn't really exist was of no consequence to Redmond. After all, it was he who had created the character, and Einstein had proven beyond doubt that there exists an infinite number of possible realities and in writing his story Stuart Redmond had indeed created Dave Green. It was no coincidence - or perhaps it was coincidence - that Dave Green had made it to this particular reality and was now sitting in Redmond's office being interviewed. After all, if Stuart Redmond could win £1m on the lottery when he never ever bought lottery tickets, then it was surely concievable that Bradford (Park Avenue) legend Dave Green could be sitting in his office. Anyone with even the slightest grasp of temporal quantum physics could understand that.
Redmond though had to admit that Green wasn't quite what he had expected, but then he guessed that perhaps trawling through the dimensions of space and time had changed the man and of course it was impossible to know just at what stage of his existance this particular version of Green was at. The man who sat on the chair in front of Redmond was a scruffy 36 year old, and was making a good job of pretending to not have a clue about football.
I really came for a job as a groundsman Dave Green stated, seemingly taken aback that he might be required to manage the team, I've never managed a football team and to be honest, I don't think I could he added whilst picking his nose then wiping it almost too casually on the arm of the chair he was sitting in.
Now now Redmond smiled, whilst making a mental not to have the chair burnt There's no use pretending with me, I know who you are. I know all about the success you had with this club, of the loads of other success you had that were never even written about. You were born to manage Dave, and manage you will. You start right away.
Well I dunno about that Dave insisted, I really only want to cut grass. What sort of wage are we talking about?
Well I know you don't really need any money so I'm offering you £400 a month on a part time basis.
Well I'll take it, if you pay me another £400 a month to cut the grass.
Redmond sighed. He had no idea where this grass obsession came from and it was slightly worrying, but this was Dave Green and Redmond knew he would bring success. The grass fetish was just something he would have to learn to live with.
Very well then, both jobs are yours He stood up and reluctantly shook the hand of his new manager, making a note to wash in disinfectant as soon as possible. Dave Green looked bemusedly pleased as he turned to leave the room.
Oh just one more thing, Redmond said, I'm sure I don't need to tell you this, but don't forget. Sign Jason Young.
03-30-2006, 12:58 PM
The Avenue Looks Well Worn Now, But Lets Go Down It One Last Time. Perhaps. Post #5
Originally posted by Educated Hick:
<BLOCKQUOTE>Redmond was no idiot
I beg to differ. :p
All we need is Mrs. Doyle and Jason Young. Nice start at recapturing your writing form! I can still remember the three nights it took me to read your first BPA story in late 2002. </BLOCKQUOTE>
I like the subtle way of saying all PMs recent stories ahve been awful
Not that I agree.
03-30-2006, 07:52 PM
The Avenue Looks Well Worn Now, But Lets Go Down It One Last Time. Perhaps. Post #6
At Thirty three years old, Jason Young wasn't exactly a has been. No, he was more of a never had been. When football rolled out its Hall of Fame, when the glittering prizes were awarded at star studded banquets, Jason Young wouldn't get a look in - unless he was there as a cleaner or a waiter. Because the quite honest truth was, that as far as football was concerned anyway, Jason Young was utter pish. He couldn't tackle to save his life, he could barely pass the ball in a straight line, and if he had to run he would be dead within seconds. Some people called him a poor man's Ally McCoist, but the harsh truth was that he was much much worse than that.
Once upon a time, it was alleged that Jason Young had played for Livingston, but injury had sidelined him and from there his career - using the term lightly here - had plummeted downhill. You can understand that there really isn't a lot of downhill from Livingston, and this merely underlines just how pish poor Jason Young was. Exactly why Avenue chairman Stuart Redmond had set the nearly retired Scots striker at the top of his shopping list was anyone's guess. But the chairman insisted that Jason Young was a great player, who would score goals for fun and if anyone should know this, that man was Dave Green.
At this, Dave Green - even though he himself professed to know more about grass that football - merely looked abjectly confused. He had, he claimed, never even heard of Jason Young, but if the chairman wanted him, then he guessed he would try to sign him. It wouldn't make a blind bit of difference to anything, because apart from cutting the grass Dave Green claimed that he didn't have a frigging clue what he was doing anyway. Chairman Redmond merely smiled, believing that Green was playing one of his games, and his manager wanted to pretend that he had no idea who he was that was fine - as long as he delivered the goods on the park. Which, of course, he would. It was his destiny.
In all of this, perhaps the most confused person was Jason Young himself. At 33, he was under no illusion that his footballing career was nearing its end in a serious manner. His dreams of playing in the World Cup, or indeed any Cup, were certainly over and he was no dishonest enough with himself to know that as career's go his certainly hadn't been anything to write home about. Earning a mere £25 a week at junior side Penicuik, Jason was quite happy just to be getting the odd game, whilst earning minimum wage working in a supermarket. It wasn't great, but it paid the bills.
Now it seemed Bradford (Park Avenue) wanted him, and were offering him £1200 a month plus free accomodation for him, his wife and their two kids plus a car and a signing on fee - paid by the Chairman direct, no questons asked and no-one needed to tell the tax man - of £10,0000. The offer seemed too good to be true, but just enormity of it made Jason want to investigate and indeed it seemed his fears were real. Stuart Redmond was a f*king looney. But it he wanted to throw away his money, Jason was more than happy to take it and it didn't take long to sign on the dotted line. It might well be that he only got a year out of this, but with Redmond throwing his cash around it seemed positively rude to refuse the man.
So Jason Young and Dave Green were back at a club they both claimed never to have even heard of before, but the Chairman knew they were lying. Everything was going to turn out just fine and it wouldn't be long before the Avenue were back at Wembley and Jason Young would be scoring the winning goal again in an FA Cup Final. That was always assuming of course that Wembley ever got finished. Or that Jason Young didn't up and die.
Again.
03-30-2006, 08:25 PM
The Avenue Looks Well Worn Now, But Lets Go Down It One Last Time. Perhaps. Post #8