I had been sat upright in my bed for around three hours watching early-morning television, which wasn't quite the same now that I lived in France. Usually there was some kind of rubbish to at least listen to while I was eating my breakfast, something like Loose Women. However, the only channels I could manage to get my television to connect to were a British news channel, a French one and Sky Sports News.
I fingered uselessly around the remote until I had managed to get Sky Sports News on, even if it was accompanied by French subtitles. Having an interest in World football, the breaking news segments were rather interesting to me, with big named players in talks with bigger clubs. After a while of the monotonous dribble and repeated stories, I decided to get up, shower, and leave my apartment to go and watch the local club LOSC Lille at their open training day, in which the first team would be playing against the reserves.
After a short bus journey I arrived and sat in my seat, fairly close to the pitch. I could smell the freshly cut damp surface which had been prepared for the match today. The reserve team manager walked onto the pitch with a microphone and looked towards our stands.
"Unfortunately, René Girard has decided to resign as our manager just a few short weeks before our campaign begins, and we cannot afford to continue to pay his contract while hiring a new manager. It is to my knowledge that we have a seasoned lower league manger in our midst."
That was something I had forgotten to mention. I had moved from Britain to France after taking Yeovil town from League One to the Championship and having a mental breakdown through the stress that came with it. To myself, and probably to others, I looked a shadow of my former self, with scraggly hair and bags underneath my eyes.
"Mr Francis, I believe you are here?" I stood up, albeit sluggishly. "On behalf of our chairman, I have walked out here to offer you the position of our first team manager for a year, un-paid, until Mr Girard's contract is over."
Before I had the chance to answer, I was escorted by two muscular, brutish men into a box behind the stands, in which stood a rack containing a suit. I walked over to the suit and picked up the crumpled white note left alongside it.
I am sorry I could not be there today, Mr Francis. Good luck.
This was all happening so quickly, but I embraced it. I had missed relishing the savage thrill that came alongside managing a team. I walked over to the suit, and began to dress, looking in the mirror as I did.
http://www.ealuxe.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/07/young_businessman_looking_in_restroom_mirror_42-18718423-660x330.jpg
I fingered uselessly around the remote until I had managed to get Sky Sports News on, even if it was accompanied by French subtitles. Having an interest in World football, the breaking news segments were rather interesting to me, with big named players in talks with bigger clubs. After a while of the monotonous dribble and repeated stories, I decided to get up, shower, and leave my apartment to go and watch the local club LOSC Lille at their open training day, in which the first team would be playing against the reserves.
After a short bus journey I arrived and sat in my seat, fairly close to the pitch. I could smell the freshly cut damp surface which had been prepared for the match today. The reserve team manager walked onto the pitch with a microphone and looked towards our stands.
"Unfortunately, René Girard has decided to resign as our manager just a few short weeks before our campaign begins, and we cannot afford to continue to pay his contract while hiring a new manager. It is to my knowledge that we have a seasoned lower league manger in our midst."
That was something I had forgotten to mention. I had moved from Britain to France after taking Yeovil town from League One to the Championship and having a mental breakdown through the stress that came with it. To myself, and probably to others, I looked a shadow of my former self, with scraggly hair and bags underneath my eyes.
"Mr Francis, I believe you are here?" I stood up, albeit sluggishly. "On behalf of our chairman, I have walked out here to offer you the position of our first team manager for a year, un-paid, until Mr Girard's contract is over."
Before I had the chance to answer, I was escorted by two muscular, brutish men into a box behind the stands, in which stood a rack containing a suit. I walked over to the suit and picked up the crumpled white note left alongside it.
I am sorry I could not be there today, Mr Francis. Good luck.
This was all happening so quickly, but I embraced it. I had missed relishing the savage thrill that came alongside managing a team. I walked over to the suit, and began to dress, looking in the mirror as I did.
http://www.ealuxe.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/07/young_businessman_looking_in_restroom_mirror_42-18718423-660x330.jpg
