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Inter The Lions Den... My Homecoming....

Started on 6 November 2013 by jason_connolly1987
Latest Reply on 24 January 2014 by Josh_MU
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"Aren't you Jason Connolly?" Asked an unknown English voice in the midst of foreign accents.

"Na mate, you must have got the wrong person." I retort.

"But you look really, really…"

"I told you I'm not him, now PISS OFF!" I snap, cutting him off mid sentence.

The rest of the cafe turned and stared in my direction as I made a swift exit.

Is this what I've become? A lonely,grumpy bastard supping a latte in Starbucks?

I was in Nice, on the South Coast of France - my new home.

I was Jason Connolly, Aston Villa manager who was winning trophy after trophy, accolade after accolade. We were top of the Premier League and unbeaten - looking set to bring the title back to Villa Park for the first time in over 30 years.

Then one night, it all changed. I disappeared without reason, and now I'm back to tell my story.

Some of you may remember me from FM Scout stories such as 'The Lions of Aston Villa - Becoming Kings of The Jungle Once More. Some of you may be reading, thinking, what is this guy on about…. Either way, fasten your seatbelt and enjoy the ride.
It's a Ghost! *faints*

In all seriousness, I loved your FM13 story with Aston Villa and hope you can replicate that with Inter. Good Luck :D
Glad to see this back mate, I loved your old story.. Same signings, maybe? ;)
I wasn't around for your FM13 story, but I've heard a lot about it and read some since, and if that's anything to go by, this story should be great.
Good luck :)
There we were, stepping out on to the Nou Camp pitch, taking on the mighty FC Barcelona in the last 16 of the Champions League. Confidence was high, we all knew we were capable of getting a result.

Nine minutes in and we were 2-0 down to a Lionel Messi brace. The game finished 4-0 to our colossal hosts.

Dejected, defeated and demoralised, the lads trudged to the changing rooms where Eric was waiting on us, his face purpler than I've ever seen it.

He ripped us all to shreds in French with a few English expletives thrown in, before smashing the place up and being escorted out by security.

That was just Eric, his way of dealing with things. One of the most colourful players in history was the Director of Football throughout Aston Villa's most successful and trophy laden period in their history. He was entitled to be upset.

The flight home was excruciating, no one spoke. The atmosphere was horrendous.

Greeted at Birmingham Airport by a few hundred fans booing us was the hardest thing I've endured throughout my career. The success was coming so freely that I hadn't thought about how I would cope with defeat and I didn't manage myself well. I snapped, launching a full scale verbal attack on the fans, asking myself how they could be so ungrateful after everything I'd done for the club.

I sat at home that evening and cried my eyes out.

I was done. It was time to step aside. I text Randy, told him I had resigned, switched my phone off and disappeared to France.
2013-11-06 00:41#142079 The Madridista : It's a Ghost! *faints*

In all seriousness, I loved your FM13 story with Aston Villa and hope you can replicate that with Inter. Good Luck :D

Hahaha its been a while buddy! Thanks for your kind words :)
2013-11-06 00:45#142081 Pauker : Glad to see this back mate, I loved your old story.. Same signings, maybe? ;)

Cheers buddy, signings will be at the forefront of my mind! :)
2013-11-06 00:45#142082 Rablador : I wasn't around for your FM13 story, but I've heard a lot about it and read some since, and if that's anything to go by, this story should be great.
Good luck :)

Thanks mate, hope you enjoy it!
You've got some explanation to do, and Lerner won't be happy knowing that you take over stinky Inter!
I wasn't around for your FM13 story but I do know of it and have read some. I hope this is as good as that :)

I was enjoying my life in France, it was warm, cultured - everything Birmingham wasn't.

I was able to sit by the pool all day if I wanted with no board meetings, training or press conferences to bother with…. So why wasn't I satisfied?

I had kept watch on the Villa from my French hiding place, they had hired Fabio Capello as their new boss and although they didn't win the league I had put on a plate, they finished runners up.

However, I missed it if truth be told, the thrill of seeing big Christian ripple the net or Andi skip past his marker. Football been my life for as long as I could remember and here I am passing my days doing Sudoku and watching episodes of Dexter on Netflix.

I needed to be back at it, it had been 18 months. Then without warning, my phone beeped to a text message from my old fitness coach, Gian Nicola Bisciotti.

Would Moratti offer me a job? Did he want me to take charge of his club despite going AWOL on Villa?

I needed to know…….

It was off to Milan….

So, there I was. Squinting in the bright sunshine as I stepped outside Milan's Malpensa Airport.

I picked up my phone and called Gian...

"Hello?" Came the answer.

"Gian, it's Jason…. I'm in Milan."

"Fantastic boss…I mean Jason. Get a taxi and meet me in an hour at the stadium. You've got a rendevouz with Massimo Moratti my friend! See you soon!"

Gian hung up….

20 minutes later, I was standing outside the Giuesppe Meazza San Siro - Home to two of the world's biggest football clubs.

I walked in to the stadium, wheeling my suitcase behind me. A stunning dark haired receptionist sat behind the desk with a beautiful smile on her face.

"I'm here to see Mr. Moratti… I'm Jason Conn…"

"I know who you are Mr. Connolly. Please follow me." The receptionist said as she ushered me to an elevator.


"Please make yourself comfortable. Mr Moratti will be here momentarily." And off she trotted.

It was massive, the fanciest board room I've ever been in. I sank in to the plush leather chair and awaited President Moratti.

The door opened around 10 minutes later and in he walked.

"Good day Mr. Connolly, I am Massimo Moratti." said the grey haired figure in a sharp Hugo Boss suit.

"Hello, Mr Moratti, its great to meet you." I respond, reaching my hand towards him before realising how clammy it was.

"Call me Massimo, please." He said.

"Now, Jason, I understand you had a bit of a situation in the way you left your previous club but I'm not interested in that. You took a small club and made them huge again. That's why you're here." He continued.

"Gian speaks with nothing but praise about you and he tells me that you can make this club great again. You see, we've been replaced at the pinnacle of Italian football by Juventus. Even Napoli, Fiorentina, Roma and our city rivals, AC have had more success than us recently. It's unacceptable."

"I want you to make this club a force again." He demanded, thumping his fist on the table.

"It's a great honour to be so highly thought of but I've been away from the game for a while now… I don't know if I have what it takes to over throw Juve." I say, rather meekly.

"You do. Because I say you do. Gian believes in you, therefore so do I." Moratti dictated.

"You are our new manager, I am not taking no for an answer. The contract is drawn up. All you need to do is sign."

He pushed a 10 page document my way along with a pen.

"Sign it." He demands.

The next morning the news was out… The media were all over it like a rash.

Jason Connolly was back.

My phone didn't stop ringing, people didn't stop texting… There were congratulations from peers, people happy to see me back. It was surreal.

I was the new Inter Milan manager.

After a long day, I went to bed but couldn't get over. My mind was blown with thoughts of transfers and what I needed to bring success to this sleeping giant.

Something that struck me about my newly inherited squad was that there were some fantastic young talents such as Mauro Icardi and Brazilian centre half, Juan Jesus.

Amongst them though were a group of players on huge wages who were well past their sell by dates - Cambiasso, Chivu, Samuel, Milito, Palacio…. This was going to be MY Inter. A youthful, hungry, dynamic Inter, not a retirement home for ex-internationals.

These five were all transfer listed and two were shipped out, bringing my modest £5m transfer budget to a more manageable £15m. Cambiasso joined Atletico Madrid for £675,000 and shifting his £130k per week wages alongside while Rodrigo Palacio joined Liverpool for £4.9m - a good deal for a 31 year old.

Winger Ricardo Alvarez was the third early casualty - he joined Roma for £3.9m.


I felt we had good options in defence and midfield but lacked some firepower. Icardi and Befodil, both extremely good players but not the finished article.

I picked up the phone and called an old friend….

"Hello?" The voice answered.

"Randy, hi. It's Jason…"

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