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"What's the opposite of a superlative?" A Scotland story
Here goes, sorry about the last attempt people, it was my mistake. Should control my CM games time, but it just proves how addictive the game is, and why I started playing it in the first place!
***
“ What a failure,” I said to David on my right-hand side. I took a sip of my chilled can of Guinness, before continuing. “ I mean, England, a crap nation, let’s be honest, can get through, and we can’t even get qualify the whole competition?”
We were watching the Euro 2004 finals, with England in action against Switzerland.
What we watched before the conversation was one of the flukiest goals ever; Wayne Rooneys “wonder-strike” (off-target as David pointed out), cannoned off the post, and struck the Swiss goalkeeper on the ball, and it fired into the back of the net.
The oldest ‘keeper in the competition looked dejected, Wayne Rooney the “wonder kid” (fat *******, as David correctly added) zoomed off in celebration “the fastest he had ever run in his life,” according to David. He doesn’t know, however, despite his size, that Rooney is infact very speedy! Shows how much he watches the game, really...
But, while watching the ninety minutes drag away, with the continuing comments from Dave, who I met during my schooling days almost twenty years ago (It’s sad to think, isn’t it? Twenty years is a really long time, I’m getting older, aren’t I?)
In the final few minutes, as England had almost certainly sealed their place in the next round, I thought more about Scotland. We’re a failure, I told myself continually and I also reminded myself there’s nothing I could do about it....
Oh how wrong was I!
10-08-2004, 08:25 PM
"What's the opposite of a superlative?" A Scotland story Post #2
“ There’s nothing we can do about it though, is there?” David asked me, as England celebrated unsportingly while inbetween the celebrations shaking hands with the understandably upset Swiss players.
I thought for a second, it’s all it needed. “Nah, Davey your right... there isn’t!” The only thing was, when I said this, my head gave a funny jolt. Not a “sare yin” as a Scot would say, but more like my head was trying to tell me something. It was funny.
I kept on thinking about it... Maybe there was something I could do. Have children to someone who regularly has twins and triplets, leave my job, and train them all day long? Nah, waste of time, they’ll be too small....
I could maybe help a few “wee yins” with the coaching or something? You know, get my SFA Coaching Badges then take up a young team or something.
Sounds like a good plan, I told myself.
“ Do you know about all the Badges and things coaches have to get?” I asked Davey, wondering if his knowledge of the beautiful game extended that far.
“ Can’t say I have?” Davey replied honestly.
“ Oh well, I suppose it’s just training for becoming a coach. I’ve always wanted to do that” (when, in truth, I had never thought of being a coach because I had never been a leader at school), “ Just seeing Scotland not in the Championships as made me angry... I’m going to do it as soon as possible.”
“ Good plan,” Davey answered, “ could I come, by any chance?”
10-15-2004, 06:04 PM
"What's the opposite of a superlative?" A Scotland story Post #4
A few days after our conversation, I had already scanned most Scottish related websites, but not found any dates / “how-to-starts” on the Internet. I did, however, find a contact number, and the very next day, I gave them a ring.
“ Good afternoon, the Scottish football association here, may I ask who’s speaking?” An attractive voice answered after about twenty to thirty rings.... and to think, Scotland needs more coaches!
“ My name is Rick Thomson. I’m calling to try and set-up a course in which I can earn my badges?” I replied.
“ Of course. Well, I would say you’re in luck... there’s a course next month!” When she said I was in luck, I expected it would start in a few days... not that bloody long!
“ That would be great thanks, could you book two places please?” I asked the young woman.
“ Unfortunately, there’s only one place left in the course. You could leave it, and start sometime next year, or one of you could go in for it...” My heart sank.
I had to make a decision, I couldn’t wait, this is something I simply had to do. For my country. “ Well, then, put Rick Thomson down for that place please.”
“ That’s fine, you can pay by direct debit, or send a cheque....”
And so, that’s how I booked my place into a course.... My “dream” had finally been accomplished.
10-15-2004, 06:06 PM
"What's the opposite of a superlative?" A Scotland story Post #5
Since I haven't posted in a couple of days, I will reward you (probably bore you is closer), with another post. Thanks for reading.
***
“ YOU DIDN’T BOOK ME A PLACE?” Dave shouted down the phone line, “ARE YOU STUPID? THIS WAS SOMETHING WE’RE SUPPOSED TO DO TOGETHER!”
I hung up. I couldn’t cope. Tears were almost in my eyes. Me and David had never falling out before. Not since, well, never basically.
I sat on my seat, and since it was a Saturday morning, put on Soccer AM. It’s a funny program, and managed to capture my attention at times, but still, the thing about David was always in my mind.
I hadn’t spoke to David for a while, due to the fact he had moved house and not yet given me his number. There were only three days into the course, and there seemed there was no way back into the course.
Then the phone rang.
“ Hello,” I said, picking up the phone.
“ Allright mate it’s Derek!” It wasn’t the answer I wanted.
“ Allright,” I said, but it wasn't a happy tone...
10-16-2004, 05:52 PM
"What's the opposite of a superlative?" A Scotland story Post #6
I arrived home a day before the course, and the phone had a message. I clicked on it, and listened to it.
“ Good morning, Mr. Thomson. If you and your friend are interested, there’s an extra place avalaible in the SFA course due to the death of one of trainees. It’s not a good start. Give me a phone call if you still want him to join.”
I phoned immiediatly, and booked Davey a place in the course. Afterwards, I phoned him up, and after twenty or thirty rings (maybe he could be an assistant for the SFA), he picked up.
“ Hello?”
“ Hello Dave.” I answered.
“ Oh it’s you.” He replied in a poor tone. “ And what the hell do you want?”
“ Well, I was having a laugh with you earlier. You were always in the SFA Course! Meet me tomorrow morning, my place, at half eight. It’s an early start, better be there!”
And that was that. Me and Davey, as planned, were going to the SFA course. The manager and his assistant, by any chance?
10-23-2004, 10:51 PM
"What's the opposite of a superlative?" A Scotland story Post #7
Can't bloody wait for this game, well this story won't properly start until (fingers crossed) November 5th.
***
We woke up “bright and early” as they say, and as planned, David came to my house early. Since I was unemployed, I wasn’t used to getting up as early as this, but for some reason, like when I’m always excited, or nervous, I woke up earlier than planned. Five o’clock earlier than planned!
Tired, and unable to go to sleep for the remianing three and a bit hours, I trotted out to Daveys’ car. We were going to the SFA headquarters nearby the national stadium, which is just outside Glasgow.
“ Hope there isn’t too many weegies there like!” Davey commented half-an-hour into the journey. The rest was spent in silence.
Eventually, after what seemed hours, we arrived at the National Stadium. “Pretty,” David said, breaking the silence, and I answered back, “ It’s a murder pitch though.”
We checked in, and after half-an-hour of chatting, the real fun started. “ Hello, and welcome to the SFA Training Pitch. This course will take us around eight weeks and I have to say, it’s a tough one. It’ll help you guys in the long term, however!”
We started off with some basic drills - running (and surprisingly, we had to do it. David, when he had space to breath, said “I thought being a manager was when you stood there and watched everyone else do the running!”)
After about an hour of work, we finally got on to the real stuff - how to teach other people to do the hard, dirty work. We were shown several exercises, all of which opened me up to how hard it is to being a coach.
And, so, the story begins....
10-24-2004, 07:12 PM
"What's the opposite of a superlative?" A Scotland story Post #8
Cheers Simon and Dave. Nice to know I have a couple of readers . Don't think they'll be too many anti-glasgow prejudice, but I might just play no Old Firm players.. Maybe !
***
Eight-weeks later, David sat in my living room, talking about the fun times he had during the course. “ It really was good, wasn’t it?” David said - I was half-listening.
“ Yeah,” I muttered, while passing. I was cooking lunch. It was our “party”, so to speak. We had passed the coaching license, now looked alot fitter and leaner, and were piling the pounds on again on this lunch - a fry-up.
Since we earned the grades, we were eligable to become footballing managers. Obviously, we weren’t going anywhere fast, so David got on the phone, and applied for a few jobs which we wouldn’t expect to get. Manchester Utd (Alex Ferguson kicks a boot.... this time hitting the chairman), Arsenal (Wenger heads off to Madrid) and Scotland . Well, I suppose, judging by Scotland’s record recently, we wouldn’t be out of that list.
With the Utd and Arsenal jobs out of the question; a brief phone-call from Dein and the Utd board told us that “they were looking at experienced managers”, we concentrated solely on the Scotland job.
Berti Vogts was sacked last month, after the Scotland officials finally realised that getting into the Euro Championships wasn’t good enough. Finally!
Articles, such as the one on Football365.com, told us that we might be in with a fighting chance.
"What's the opposite of a superlative?" A Scotland story 
Cheers for the reply 
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