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Throw in Shakira tickets and you've got yourself a manager
Although I've posted LLM updates before, this is my first crack at an FM Story. Some LLM patterns may still be apparent. And, as you will see, I have a ton of leagues loaded so if it goes too slowly I may just chuck it.
Technical details: Game: FM 2005 (latest patch, no data update) Leagues: USA, Mexico, Colombia, Peru, Brazil, Argentina, Uruguay, Chile, England, Scotland, Germany, Spain, Italy, Switzerland (all divisions loaded with large database)
Prologue
At some point you just have to take chance. Usually this realization comes when a chapter is firmly closed, when you realize continuing to do what you've been doing is insane.
For people in the business of soccer, that moment of clarity can be a rude awakening brought on by the latest injury the physio/witch-doctor "treats" with the magic lemon juice. Sometimes it's just sitting in your car at a traffic light when you suddenly realize the absurdity of racing teammates to the bank because everyone knows the club has only enough money to make half the payroll.
So it was with me. Nearly a decade spent knocking around the lower leagues of the United States, traveling from one end of the continent to another. All for the "thrill" of sharing a 14-hour van ride with 4 other players, going from somewhere like Atlanta to Rochester for a Friday game, followed by a Saturday game in Montreal. All for the thrill of reporting for training camp only to find five trialists looking to take your job, all refugees from teams that have just hung up the "out of business" sign, like San Diego, Milwaukee, Cincinnati. Maybe if you're lucky you land in Rochester or Charleston, some place that can pay you more than your cousin gets working 40 hours a week in a dying Michigan factory. And then the cycle begins all over again.
Somewhere around my 29th birthday is when that moment hit me. Funny thing is, I don't remember when it happened. It might have been the bounced paycheck in Cincinnati. It might have been when Atlanta would only offer a "pay-for-play" contract. Oh sure, you can make some extra money teaching at the numerous youth soccer clinics, but who wants to deal with that for 30 years? Who wants to deal with smart-ass 12-year-olds who think they can "bend it like Beckham" but refer to the "Glasgow Celtics"?
I decided that wasn't for me, but I still love this game for some strange reason. So I went and got my "A" license from the federation. I was never the best player, I'll admit that, but it's bad when you realize you know more about the game than some glorified college soccer coach who never played beyond the PDL (at best) teaching you how to coach the sport you've been involved with all your life.
But, "A" license in hand I immediately set out to make myself useful. There were no vacancies in the US, or at least nobody willing to take a shot on a 31-year-old coach, so I loaded up my clapped out 1997 Jeep Cherokee and hit the Pan-American Highway.
February 2005
Like I said, I admit I was never the best player. But if there was one thing a manager could count on it was my determination, that "bulldog spirit" so prized in England. I hated to lose, hated to fail, and that led to the red mist decending a few times in my career.
Anyway, so it was that I found myself continuing to go south. Rejection after rejection. Mexico. Guatemala. Honduras. El Salvador. Costa Rica. They piled up, but I kept going. Somehow, that old Jeep Cherokee kept going too, until I found myself near Bogota, Colombia.
It was there I heard from Eduardo, one of my former teammates from El Paso, about a vacancy with the second division side Girardot FCNC, a commerical center and transportation hub a few hours from Bogota. He was busy running a bar about halfway between the two and, since my Spanish was limited mostly to "Un cerveza, por favor," agreed to accompany me to a hurried meeting with the chairman.
I'm not sure how it happened or what Eduardo said (for all I know he might have offered the chairman a night with his sister), but for whatever reason the chairman decided to take a chance on me. The cost of a translator, however, would come out of my own pocket.
2005 season
When I arrived in Girardot, the club was already a couple matches into the Colombian season. I surveyed the squad and considered it wholly unimpressive. But what was I going to do, with one scout who was blind in one eye (the victim of an unfortunate misunderstanding with some of the local paramilitary)? Not to mention the challenge of learning how to deal in a currency that's so devalued you're paid in millions of pesos.
I decided to settle on a Christmas tree formation, given that I actually had a couple of decentish midfielders. It didn't work.
A tactical switch ensued and we performed competently, if not consistently. We found ourselves on the wrong end of a couple of hammerings, but also had a glorious moment beating playoff-bound Real Cartegena 2-0 in their building in front of a television audience.
Unfortunately, consistency was in short supply and while we were never in any real danger of relegation we also were never a threat to crack the top 8 -- the playoff spots. We finished 13th. I pronounced myself satisfied and sent the players on their close season.
03-15-2005, 09:47 AM
Throw in Shakira tickets and you've got yourself a manager Post #2
Stylish update, it oozes class. Although it is a bit longer than I was used to read from you, Jason.
Poof.
Quote:
Originally posted by Peacemaker7:
'Welcome' to FMS Jason. That is a hell of a lot of leagues, havent had that number running since CM3 01-02 You must have a super duper computer
It's an eMachines I got a few months ago. 3200+ Athlon processor, 48x CD-ROM, 512 MB DDR SDRAM
It's chugging along okay. Some weeks in game play are slower than others, but I can get through a year of game time in roughly a day or so of real time.
03-21-2005, 02:44 AM
Throw in Shakira tickets and you've got yourself a manager Post #5
1 August 2006
I suppose I should have known moving to Colombia would eventually end in tears. But you're never really ready for it.
2006 was going to be challenging, right from the start. The chairman told me the transfer budget would be cut in half, but I wasn't too concerned. After all, even with a 900m peso transfer budget last season, I'd only spent about 80 million.
Again I was told simply to start rebuilding the squad. The usual crop of youngsters and players released from First Division clubs came in and we signed some of them.
I dipped into the transfer budget for some defensive cover. Last season, injuries and suspensions had forced me to use a defensive midfielder in central defense on more than one occassion. I didn't feel like going through that again, so I signed Cortez, a central defender from Deportivo Wanka in Peru for 4 million peso and Amu, a left back from Antioquia for 1 million pesos. I was further encouraged by the development of Machado, a 17-year-old who'd signed with us during last season's campaign and was showing signs of becoming a quality midfielder. Good enough that I decided to start breaking him into the first team this year.
Pre-season training was encouraging as we were competitive in losses to First Division sides Atletico Nacional and Deportivo Cali.
But then my assistant left to take the manager's job with Second Division debutants Atletico Popayan.
It meant I was flying solo as the league campaign opened. Which was unfortunate as, with the league campaign taking a break for this year's World Cup, the fixture list was being crammed into fewer weeks.
Our opener was at Antioquia. And it was hot, with temperatures around 40 degrees Celsius (104 Fahrenheit) at kickoff. We lost 3-0, and the players were gassed. Which was bad, because the schedule-makers had done us no favors: 3 matches in the first week of the season, 2 of them away and all against 2005 playoff teams.
The struggles continued. We lost 2-0 at home to Real Cartegena and 7-1 away to Expreso Rojo. Three matches, three losses, and a goal difference of -12.
Fortunately we started to get on the right track with a draw against Centauros and a win over my former assistant.
Speaking of assistants, I'd definitely upgraded there. I hired former Trinidad international Russel Latapy. The downside was I had to give him a bigger salary than even I was getting, but hey, he had 100 caps. I didn't even have one.
Anyway, Latapy's arrival didn't seem to help. The goals dried up. The defense leaked like a campesino's hut. The club hurtled toward the bottom of the table, with only Atletico Popayan's awful form keeping us well away from relegation worries.
But things never got on track. After getting to 1-1-3, we would only one of our next 15 matches. I was still hopeful though. Hell, England had just beat Brazil in the World Cup finals. Who saw that coming?
I was preparing for our July 30 match against Centauros when the chairman called me in.
I knew he was concerned. We'd just lost 4 in a row and had not scored in 5 matches. Hell, we'd only scored 11 goals in 20 matches so far. But we were still 13 points clear of relegation and the youngsters were developing nicely.
So it was a bit of a shock when the chairman told me my services were no longer needed and that Latapy would take over preparations for the Centauros match.
Eduardo offered to make some phone calls on my behalf and a room above his pub. I'd had enough of Colombia though. I loaded up the Cherokee and headed north on the Pan-American Highway the next morning.
03-21-2005, 02:46 AM
Throw in Shakira tickets and you've got yourself a manager Post #6
Two months went by and I amused myself with coaching at various clinics in the U.S.
Even though I'd told him not to bother, Eduardo went ahead and made those phone calls on my behalf.
Eventually, the call came from Temuco, a professional club in Chile about 650 km south of Santiago. They had been relegated from the First Division the previous year and were nowhere close to getting back in at the first attempt.
I took over with just 2 matches left, enough to see that the club was lacking in players. I'd been left about a half-dozen attacking midfielders, but only one goalkeeper and one forward.
The result, perhaps not surprisingly, were two 0-0 draws to end the season.
Throw in Shakira tickets and you've got yourself a manager 
You must have a super duper computer 
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