Not all foxes are ginger

It is the Summer of 2015 - The football season has finished all but two months previously and the itch for football has begun.

Being a fan is hard, we care far more than the players but have absolutely no influence on the outcome. Sure, we can cheer louder, we can jeer louder, but come that final whistle…it's over. The players happily shake hands, smile at each other, embrace colleagues old and new, and even swap shirts. I, on the other hand, find the rest of my weekend and even working week is decided on that very game. If we win, I might tell the wife to 'get out the kitchen, put your best on, we're off to Nandos'. But if we lose, well that’s it, I'm done. I need some time to process, and I will certainly not be watching MOTD later.

Why does it have to be like this? Why am I so tied to an event I have no control over?

Then it hit me…I can't change how much I care, so why not change how much I can control?

'Sit down love' I said to the wife, 'I have got something I need to tell you'. She looked at me with a vague sense of 'WTF are you doing?' as I sat down beside her, hand on her knee and announced…'I want to be a football manager'.

'What?' She replied.

If I'm honest, this was less than I had hoped for. Perhaps a jumping hug, a cartwheel, hell id have taken a fist bump…but she seemed quite bemused. My master plan was to get her onside and if she was good I might even give her a role in the back office somewhere. She had better buck her ideas up, sharpish!

'What do you mean you want to manager Leicester City? That isn't a real job!' To be honest, she was starting to get on my nerves now. 'Of course it’s a real job, what are you on about?' She meant that it's not the sort of employment someone like me could just walk into. Someone like me? I had to remind her that I have never failed an interview, have been employed since I left school, and my sickness record is pretty good. Also, you do not win sales performance of the month for December 2009 without hard work!

I dress up for Red Nose Day (I'm both charitable with my time AND a team player), I have my own car and can drive (I'm reliable), I'm from the area (connection with the fans) and I am happy to work on Saturdays (flexible). Quite frankly I don’t know why they WOULDN’T employ me.

We spoke at length and after ending at a complete disagreement I decided that I was still going to be a football manager. I will just add 'her indoors to the list of naysayers…


My beloved Leicester City had recently gone through a difficult period, off the field shenanigans regarding players, young ladies, camera phones, being naked, coupled with our old gaffer throttling a player on the touchline and asking a fan to 'eff off, had all added up to scenario where his position was untenable.


The board had searched for a high profile candidate but lack of interest from the 'right' candidate had led to a very charismatic grey haired tinker man putting himself forward. He got the job.

There was a mix of surprise and discontent in the local community, most would still have stood by the old regime and saw any new manager as a backward step.

This is where I came in…

Monday morning arrived, I bounded into work, handed in my notice, and took my remaining holiday days as my notice period. There wasn’t a moment to lose, I needed to get to the King Power ASAP.

I hopped on the 85 bus, got off at Morrison's and walked to the stadium. My heart was beating out of my chest with pride, I couldn’t wait to spell out my vision for the club, and impress our owners.

I arrived a bit sweaty from my walk (it was summer, a bit hot for a full suit) but never the less, I opened the reception doors with purpose and asked to see Mr Srivaddhanaprabha. 'Sorry?' the receptionist replied. It was probably my pronunciation, but I persevered. Mr Sriv-add-hana-prab-ha (going slower helped)…'he isn't in today I'm afraid, you will have to come back tomorrow'. Bloody hell.

I came back the next day (I drove this time as there is always parking by the fan store) and sure enough Mr Sriv…the chairman, was in. Reception invited me in, offered me a cold beverage, and asked me to wait. Lovely.

The big doors to the office opened and I was ushered in.

What was discussed shall remain internal out of respect for all parties, but needless to say, subject to a quick announcement from the board in the morning, I will be installed as the new Leicester City boss.

Good work, nice writing
Keep it up, and good luck for you in Leicester City.