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I had been that keen to make sure that I wasn’t late for the interview that I had ended up being twenty minutes early. The receptionist had been kind enough to fuss over me, getting me a cup of tea and even finding a biscuit to go with it. Now, after half an hour of waiting in the foyer, the receptionist took a phone call, spoke a few words, then replaced the handset and looked over to me.
“Mr Murphy, that was the chairman. He apologises for running late, but he will be with you in just a few minutes”.
“That’s not a problem. Thanks for letting me know”.
“He’s asked that I show you into the boardroom for your interview”.
She rose from her desk and walked around to the other side.
“Please follow me, Mr Murphy”.
I did as she asked and followed her down the corridor. She stopped at a set of double doors and opened them for me.
“If you would just take a place on the left hand side of the table, then the chairman will be with you in a few moments”.
I did as the receptionist asked while she left the room and closed the doors behind herself.
Finding myself alone in the room, I tried to calm the butterflies in my stomach. I reflected on the past few years and what had bought me here. There had been my playing career. Nothing spectacular about that – just ten years as a hard-working full-back in the lower reaches of the Football League with Mansfield, Bury and Hartlepool. Then there was gut-wrenching decision to leave that particular line of my career and take up a player-manager role with Greys Athletic in non-league football. That had started well, but after a season and a half a car crash had ended all that. The injuries were severe enough to end my playing days. When I had improved enough to leave hospital after several weeks, I still had to face months of physiotherapy and rehabilitation. I agreed a settlement with Greys to terminate my contract and got on with my recuperation. In the end the lure of football was too much though and I got back into management with Billericay. The fortunes of that club were now on the rise, thanks in part to my efforts.
All of that took me to where I am today – sitting in the boardroom of the Lincoln City Football Club. The club was without a manager and currently sitting in 23rd place of the 24-team Nationwide League Two. Relegation out of the Football League was threatening and the previous manager had been relieved of his duties. I wanted to manage at the highest level, but I had to start somewhere. This would be a big challenge, but it would also be a way to get myself a reputation if I could get the job and turn around the fortunes of the club.
I noticed that the palms of my hands were sweating as I had held my fists clenched tight for the past few minutes. I reached down to wipe them on the legs of my trousers and, as I did, I heard the doors being opened. Time to get this over with, I thought to myself.
The man who walked in was still looking down at a set of papers as he entered the room. He lifted his eyes as he approached the boardroom table.
“Mr Murphy, my apologies for keeping you waiting. Things are very hectic at the moment”.
That’s fine, Mr Bradley. I fully understand”.
I started to make a move to offer my hand, but he quickly waved his hand in my direction.
“Please Mr Murphy, remain seated and we’ll get this completed as soon as possible”.
He took a seat opposite me and placed his papers to one side. He had looked distracted as he first entered the room, but now he focussed on me and gave me his full attention.
“Mr Murphy, I’ll be straightforward with you. Lincoln City is not in a very good position at the moment. We desperately need someone who can turn around the fortunes of our team. We are also not in the best of positions when it comes to finances either. I could hire one of those has-been managers who come filing in for jobs like this one around this time of year, year in, year out. Or I could take a gamble and hire a young man like you who is keen to prove himself and doesn’t come with a list of prerequisites before he will take the job”.
He paused, perhaps for effect, but more like just to catch his breath.
“Mr Murphy, I have heard very good things regarding your man-management skills, both currently at Billericay as well as at your previous club Greys Athletic. I believe that you can lift the current playing staff enough that we can avoid relegation from the Football League this season. You obviously feel the same way yourself or you would not be sitting here in this interview”.
Again he paused, but this time I felt it was so that I could reply.
“Mr Bradley, thank you for being so frank with me. In a nutshell, what you have said very simply covers my application for the manager’s position. I’m ambitious, I’m skilled and you need someone to get a job done. I’m the man that you need”.
He rocked back a little in his chair and appeared to make a quick decision.
“You’re right, of course. Mr Murphy, I can offer you the position of manager of Lincoln City Football Club until the end of the current season. Based on your performance in the next two and a half months I may be prepared to offer you a more permanent deal for next season. What do you say?”
There was no need for deliberation on my part. The conditions were what I had expected and the job was what I wanted.
“It’s exactly what I want and I’d like to get started straight away this afternoon if I could, Mr Bradley”.
A smile broke across his face. He pushed his chair back and rose from the table, then began to walk around the end of the table towards me. I put my hands down to the wheels of my wheelchair and backed it out from under the table to set out and meet him half way. The smile left his face and a quizzical look replaced it as Mr Bradley stared down at me in my wheelchair. I could immediately tell that he had previously been unaware of my physical condition.
“Mr Bradley, you obviously didn’t expect to see me in a wheelchair”.
“No, I did not”.
“Thirty seconds ago I was the man who you believed could save this club from relegation. Does what you now know in any way change your decision?”
Mr Bradley hesitated momentarily and then the earlier smile returned to his face.
“No, it does not, Mr Murphy, it certainly does not”.
With that, he held out his hand towards me. I took it and we exchanged a firm handshake. It was time to get started – I had a job to do.
Good start there and good luck. You might need it if you both have to get the players to adapt to an eventual new tactic, raise morale and get enough wins
Don't forget a table so we can see how bad the situation is. :thup:
Harleqin andLEEMOD1 - There's a table coming up before the first game. Basically there are 12 matches left to play in the 2004/05 season.
simonh1979, BoN and Tyrone - Cheers.
Daz the Imp - Great to have a Lincoln fan on board. I will admit that I know nothing about the club or the area, so please excuse any errors that I make out of ignorance. I hope that you will have something to cheer about at the end of the season.
Later that afternoon I was presented to the media at a hastily arranged press conference. To be honest, there weren’t too many people there. Mainly it was the local newspapers, but there was one camera crew filming the events for probable distribution to a wider audience. Mr Bradley walked in ahead of me and I wheeled myself around the end of the table and pulled up myself next to his chair. Mr Bradley began by welcoming everyone and thanking them for their attendance. He then introduced me as the new Lincoln City manager and briefed the reporters on the background of my career. After that, he threw the press conference open for questions. The first man he pointed to was obviously itching to ask me a question.
“Mr Murphy, how do you ..…”
I quickly held up my hand and interrupted him.
“First up, my name is Willie. Please feel free to call me by that name. Secondly, please identify who you are and what organisation you work for”.
The reporter pulled a face that looked like someone who he had just stepped in dog ****, but he quickly regained his stride and answered.
“Tony Cunningham, Lincoln Standard. Willie, the most obvious question, how do you think your disability will affect your ability to properly manage this football club?”
So much for political correctness, it appears. Straight for the jugular and why not attach the label ‘cripple’ while you’re there, I thought.
“Tony, first of all let me correct you on something. I don’t have a disability. I am suffering from the effects of a car crash that I was involved in approximately 18 months ago. Since then I have been undergoing rigorous treatment for those injuries that I sustained at the time. The doctors tell me that with continued physiotherapy and a little bit of luck I will be walking again in the near future. In the meantime, to protect my injuries and to still allow myself some freedom of movement, I use this wheelchair”.
The reporter looked to interrupt my answer, but I was determined to finish on my terms.
“Secondly, Tony, until earlier today I was the manager of Billericay and I performed that job without any issues arising from the fact that I am currently confined to a wheelchair. Plus I think you will find that my achievements at that club speak for themselves and I certainly have left them in a far better position than they were in when I first arrived”.
Again the reporter looked to speak, but I carried on now that I was on a roll.
“Finally, Tony, let me point out that most of the media think that they can sit on their arses and do a great job of managing a football team, so why shouldn’t I sit on my arse in a wheelchair and do exactly the same”.
There was a ripple of laughter from those gathered in the room. I looked to Mr Bradley sitting beside me. He had a smile on his face. He glanced at me and then looked out ahead at the reporters.
A Question Of (Dis)Ability 
Good start mate.
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