I squeezed the bridge of my nose, trying desperately to shift the pressure which was building behind my eyes. Migraines were a common part of my daily life, but they had slowly become more and more prevalent as the pile of work on my desk grew larger and larger.
Seven years ago, I had the world at my feet - part of the Liverpool youth squad which was on track to lift a league title...a team that many still think of as one of Liverpool's greatest: Martin Kelly, Mikel San Jose, even Lucas Levia had played a part during the season. Me? I'd been battling Damien Plessis for a starting spot all season, right up until the penultimate week, when a horror tackle from Dani Pacheco sidelined me for 18 months....I'd never been the same player, and Liverpool let me go in 2010, when I was just 17.
Since then, i'd been holed up in this office, running constant errands, and slowly but surely climbing up the corporate ladder which is touted as holding so many dreams, but really just holds nothing but incessant stress. I reached for my water, clearing my throat before answering the phone as it rang for the millionth time today.
Four hours and a splitting headache later, and I finally managed to escape the office, and the incessant calls of "Just one more thing, Rhys"; usually accompanied by some fluttering eyelashes; and I was on a bus home. I took my phone out, and started checking a full day's worth of social media, texts and emails. It was all the usual - high school friends sharing photos of their crap haircuts and cheeky nandos, and occasionally even their children.
Because that was the age i'd gotten to. Half of my friends were too drunk to find their phones, and the other half were getting married and having kids - and I was uncomfortably stuck in the middle - the social life of a man with a newborn, but no actual relationships to speak of, and only really drinking buddies, rather than friends. I shook my head, switching to my e-mail apps, and scrolling through the usual crap; Nigerian princes wanting to share their millions (which got more appealing each day), Amazon bringing my attention to their great deals, etc, etc.
One thing did jump out at me though - the FA were offering half-price coaching badges for the next 6 months...Evening classes, and only minimal footballing experience required...What did I really have to lose? I sighed, and hit the link, as my bus trailed into the night.
I set the can of energy juice back onto the desk, and leant back in my chair. It had only been 3 months since I started my coaching badges, and i'd come to the shattering realisation that I really needed to get some management experience. I called round some old friends from my Liverpool days, and was eventually pointed in the direction of...well, to call it Lower League football would be an understatement.
The Liverpool County Premier League was one of many leagues which constituted the 11th level of English Football, and Alder were amongst the worst teams in that league; but that was where i found myself today, leaning against a rickety old desk which strained under the weight of the ancient PC atop it. Alder didn't have a stadium to speak of, instead playing on whichever local park had a free pitch that day. Training was split around 3 or 4 pitches around the city, and, as it stood, would be run by me on my own.
But, for now, it was a job. Well...maybe not a full-time job; i'd still have to answer calls and file forms and write letters to make any money - I wasn't going to be paid in my new coaching job, but it would hopefully bring long-term dividends.
I took another swig of my energy juice, and hit the play button on the DVD I had requested of the team's most recent training session. It was dire viewing, as pass after pass went astray. I could practically smell the desperation as they meandered across the pitch, with several of them clearly battling hangovers. I shook my head, switching the TV off before I talked myself out of this.
I lifted my jacket from its perch on the back of my seat, and headed for the pub - Drinking myself blind seemed like the best way to steel myself for tomorrow's first training session.
nice start
1
Ok Guys, Jog in, i've got some stuff to discuss!
I heard my voice in my head, but the wind whipped the words away as soon as they left my lips. My whistle was equally ineffective - eventually I just booted the ball across the face of the goal for the miniature games the guys were playing, and waved my arms frantically. They got the message, and trudged in to meet me.
I looked around at the squad, and backroom team, that i'd assembled over the last few weeks - we were two games into pre-season, and had notched up a 2-2 draw with Ashville, before losing to Wellington Amateurs. Next up, we were meeting Llangollen for our penultimate friendly.
I took a deep breath - announcing squads never got any easier, especially with the amount of options we had now..." OK lads, Llangollen is tomorrow, so I guess it makes sense to tell you who's playing, eh?" A small laugh rippled around the small circle of players, but I could feel anticipation rolling off them in waves
"Ok...Benbow, you're in goal; Gardiner, Taylor, Edward and Callow, you're the back four; Hall, Rossiter, Laslett and Facey, midfield; Burchette and Gormley up top. Subs Bench is everyone else! Right, hit the showers lads"
As they trudged away back to the dilapidated shack which was standing in as a changing room for us tonight, I turned to my coaching staff - A limited team that i'd thrown together in the last couple of weeks. We had myself, Neil Atkinson as my Assistant Manager, Dennis Montgomery as our general coach, and Chris McClaren as our fitness coach. We also had one Chief Scout, and One Physio, and no money to bring in anyone else. "Thanks for tonight lads, see you on Saturday"
I picked up the ball bag and my jacket, and trudged back to my car. It was now 9pm, and I hadn't eaten since lunch. I tossed the bag and jacket into my boot, and headed straight for McDonalds. I was in no mood to cook, and I needed to get to bed soon, because I had a major meeting at work tomorrow.
As I devoured my Big Mac, I took some time to consider the uncomfortable twilight zone I was living in...At night, I was finally doing something I loved - and being involved in the Football World is incredible; even if the players I was working with weren't. At 'actual' work, I was crushing it, and was probably well on track for a promotion; a promotion which would take up even more of my time...
Awesome story so far. I love LLM dtories!
@SooruSooru: thanks pal!
@MJK46: Thanks man
My head was pounding, as I stood in front of my manager. It took all my willpower not to throw up on his shoes, as he conducted my mid-year review. Reviews usually made me feel sick, and this one was no different, despite the news it was bringing to me.
"Rhys, I guess what i'm trying to say, is that your performance has been spot on, commercially, but some of your colleagues have noted that your head isn't always....well, isn't always in the game - what's going on?"
I hadn't told him that i'd been coaching a lower-league side in my spare time, rather than taking the mountain of paperwork that dropped on my desk home to plough through; instead playing catch-up every day. I shrugged my shoulders, unable to produce any real explanation of why I had settled for hitting, rather than surpassing, my targets.
"Rhys, you used to be one of our top performers - you smashed targets left, right and centre...now you're just wading through, hitting them and no more. Obviously, we're not talking about disciplinary action here, because you're still doing your job, but we need to address the drop in productivity; do you really have nothing to say?"
Again, I shrugged, battling back the wave of nausea which was raging inside me - I needed this job, and even though I wasn't being hit with a disciplinary, I could tell from his tone that I wasn't far away...I needed to sort the balance i'd struck here, and I needed to sort it fast.
He sighed, audibly , bringing me back into the room, and away from the images of unemployment which were swirling around my head Ok Rhys, I think we're done here - i'll drop a copy of your review on your desk and you can fill in any comments you have, thank you"
I nodded, and turned and left - I knew when I was being dismissed.
Good to be able to follow from the beginning. Looks like you are off to a solid start with Rhys!
@tenthreeleader: Good to have you along! Hopefully the solid start off the pitch translates to results haha
Top, top start, Infra. Great start
@Jack: Thanks man, means a lot coming from you!
"I just don't know, Neil - I love it here, but work is becoming more and more demanding"
My assistant manager turned, peering at me through his tired eyes, running the rule over my young face...studying me, almost as if I was a specimen in a laboratory. He shrugged; "It's your call, Rhys, nobody can tell you what to do, but this club has never been so geared up for a season - we kick off in three days, so you have a decision to make, and fast."
I nodded, staring vacantly out of the office window - my day job was piling on the pressure, as it always did around September, and it was really starting to tell. But that didn't take the shine off of our last couple of pre-season results.
First, a stupendous crowd of 15 watched us trash Llangollen 6-0, which we followed up with a 3-0 win over Newton. Our season proper started in 4 days, and I was quietly confident. I had no real long-term plan, instead focusing on bringing in the best players I could find locally, and even some from further afield. I had completely revamped the squad, but I knew that as the team drew attention to itself, those players would be lured away - there was no point getting attached, only to be left in the lurch in a few month's time.
I took a sip of my coffee, considering my options carefully - I agreed to give it until Christmas, and see what options opened up to me at that point - but the more I battled this dilemma, the more likely it seemed that it would be my comfortable 9-5 which bit the bullet.
Intrigued. Will you stay or will you go
You are reading "The Journey".
