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FC Groningen - Regencity

Getting the CL with regens
Started on 5 April 2016 by Michael / First Post
Latest Reply on 2 November 2017 by Michael / Last Post
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I better get that 2k euros back!


I followed the beautifally toned legs of Svetlana into the hospital, to check on her nephew Martin. Like a gentleman, I let her through the doors first, so I could sneak a look in, and we went to the elevator. "I want to announce the news first to Martin, maybe you should check on the Italian guy.". "Ok, Ill see you later. just come and get me when you need me." I walked to the Italian, and saw that he was awake again.

"Hey, how are you?" I spoke whilst entering his room. "I had better days. Luckely the nurses take good care of me, so waking up is the second hardest thing in the morning." I laughed, at least he didnt lose his sense of humour. "Well, Farella has stopped by, we spoke, and he got a contract. after you nealy killed yourself with that bottle, this was the least I could do." Yeah, thanks for keeping your word. Luckely this wasnt my worst hangover I had, that was with that German agent, who let me drink 20 pints of lager." I was, again, surprised. "You mean this isnt the first time you drank yourselves into the hospital?" Now it was his time to laugh. "2 times in Munchen, once is Paris, trice is London, twice in Barcelona. But this is the first time someone offered me Sambuca, and the first time they actually came to visit me afterwards." "dont worry about the bills, they are on me, as long as you keep giving me some talent. I gotta go now, You accidentially hooked me up" Pointing at Svetlana standing outside the room.

Whilst walking towards Martin's room, she said she didnt spoil the surprise yet, and that he probably would ask if his best friend could come over to train with him, as he has quite some homesickness. "Well, he just needs to say so, and Ill arrange a plane to pick him up." walking into Martins room, I saw what i thought was a small giant. 193cm tall, this kid was already bigger than me. "Martin, I met this guy yesterday, and he has some great news. Sparta prague offered you a contract, but he wants you to play here, and become part of his long term plans." Martin's face lit up at first, but he looked down afterwards. "Whats wrong, Martin?" I asked him. "I need to leave everything behind, and Ill probably wont see anyone I know except my niece for a long time." was his response, whilst looking sad. "Youll get extra weeks off fo homevisits, and you can bring one friend to train here at the club. I can't guarentuee playingtime, but in that way you'll never be alone". Martin looked happy: "Can you bring Bogdan Hanus here? we were the troublemakers off our class, and with him I wont feel as alienated as I normally am in other countries." Svetlana looked at me with her deepblue eyes. I couldn't resist Martin and Svetlana when they worked this together. "All right, I'll make some calls."

Introducing the youngest talent ingame:

tbendis's avatar Group tbendis
3 yearsEdited


THE RETURN OF TIMMY BENDIŠ - PART I

FC GRONINGEN 1 - 2 MANCHESTER CITY FC - UEFA CHAMPIONS LEAGUE

Bendiš was in the stands watching Michael De La Parra struggle in his must-win game. The Dutch manager watched hopelessly, as his swashbuckling Groningen team completely failed to impress the legendary Croatian. After decades of success with Hajduk and Croatia, the now chairman of the club had finally decided to focus on his work in the public sector, and had himself crowned the King of the Adriatic and the Isles just two years ago. But he was most famous across Europe for turning Hajduk into one of the greatest clubs on the planet.

His son, now the manager of Croatia, Adriatic, and the Isles, and Hajduk was far less successful, but still managed to humiliate Dinamo 7-0 last week.

Bendiš, however, had absolutely no reason to be in Groningen. The Kings of Holland, Belgium, and the Grand Duke of Luxembourg were, of course, his excuse, as the four royals occupied the President's box, Bendiš towering over the other three, and, by far the most imperious. His voice was as strong as the former footballer's physique, and many many people had heard of the agent who was beaten to within an inch of his life and unceremoniously dumped into Split's harbour. And their were always rumours of the location of the Croatian Prime Minister: he who had governed in absentee for the last 4 years, and oversaw the creation of an independent Kingdom within his own state.

Of course, it hardly mattered anymore... Bendiš was far stronger than any Croatian Prime Minister ever would be. Even the American President Trump had exited his meeting with Bendiš visibly flustered, and obviously escorted by two burly Croatian secret service agents. The American Presidential Guard had refused to travel to Split; but the Secretary of State had insisted it was a wise move for the unpopular Trump, one with which he could establish legitimacy. Two days later, Donald had issued a statement insisting that the Adriatic was ruled by an autocrat and that the Americans would stop at nothing to depose of the newly crowned monarch. Three days later, President Jeb Bush was sworn in. Trump had committed suicide, stabbing himself in the back 37 times.

Bendiš had excused himself from the Presidential Suite, and proceeded to move down towards the pitch, finding himself a seat at the half in the first row by the pitch, only fifteen meters away from the scowling Michael De La Parra. His Dutch team, as strong as they were domestically, had failed to break down the English bus parking by Manchester City more than once, and he was visibly upset. The final whistle blew, and the stadium began draining, while the Groningen manager talked with the two Alexs.

They spent a lot of time, frustrated with the Manchester tactics... After some time, the two Alexs left for the pub across the street, keen to drown their sorrows into a good dutch beer that wasn't a Heineken. Michael finally turned around and noticed Bendiš, who definitely was not dressed as a fan. De La Parra, in a tracksuit, looked at the Croatian, who tipped his sunglasses down before standing. His deep black suit, impeccably tailored by the finest Italian silk; his burgundy shoes made of the softest calf leather... the heel delicately crafted of the very much endangered brazilwood.

"Not your favorite match, hmmm?"

Michael had promised Svetlana that he wouldn't be long... he always promised this, and yet every time that he lost, he was always late. But this... Michael had never expected to meet Bendiš. Maybe he thought that he would face the Hajduk team if they were managing at the same time... but never after Bendiš had retired. The Croat had gotten up and walked onto the pitch, gracefully climbing over the barrier and softly landing on the grass.

"My name is Timmy... Timmy Bendiš, and you, Mr. De La Parra, are quite impressive. I thought I'd fly in and watch a game of yours... but I obviously didn't go to the right one. No matter. The away match will be easy. Englishmen are consistent underachievers.

"Hi Timmy... did you enjoy the style of play?"

"It was alright. I do enjoy how you deal with the Australians and Balotelli though... do you think he'll have children someday?"

"Probably not..."

"Probably for the best. Care for a vacation? You can come down to Split for the week? ... But of course you do... I'll have my people pick you up tomorrow..."

"But..."

"I'll see you tomorrow." With that, Bendiš left the very late and very confused Dutchman in the technical area, as he walked down the tunnel and out of the stadium, as if he had played there his entire career.



THE RETURN OF TIMMY BENDIŠ - PART II

A black S class waited silently at the home of the Dutch manager early the next morning. It had a longer wheelbase, and flags on its hood; a large man dressed in black waited at the front door, holding it open, as an exceptionally tired De La Parra yawned leaving his suburban home. It was a gloomy day in Groningen, but not as rainy as Germany, thankfully. He was dressed in the softest suit he had ever worn, one that he found in an unmarked parcel outside his front door yesterday evening. His assistants were unaware that he was going to be away for a few days, but Michael was unperturbed. Even if he was, a bottle of Glengoolie Blue sat waiting for him on the center console. It was 7.30 in the morning, but it wasn't often that De La Parra had a 600€ bottle of scotch waiting for him. He downed it on the way to the private airfield, where the newest Gulfstream waited on the tarmac, not that De La Parra would be able to distinguish the difference between a new one and the newest one. He could however, recognize the Adriatic seal on the tail, and the tail sign, ADR - 002. Another pair of well dressed guards flanked the plane's entrance, as De La Parra, distinctly feeling like he was on the set of Entourage, stepped out of the Benz and walked to the plane. He was, of course, greeted by the two of the most beautiful women he had ever seen...

... but he remembered Svetlana and only graciously accepted another glass of scotch before looking around. More brazilwood adorned the cabin, an obscene amount considering that the wood is usually only used in musical instruments. And a bar that had every drink he could imagine, from all the corners of the world - nothing but the best for the monarch.

It was only two hours later he arrived at the airport in Split. There was no need for a passport check, nor a security check. These rules did not apply to guests of the head of state. He was escorted to the water, where a Venetian speedboat stood waiting, its beautiful teak belying the speed as they raced off towards the city center, the boat as fast as it was elegant. Only minutes later, Michael De La Parra, basking in the sunshine stepped off the boat at the old harbor. A beautiful Ferrari California was parked next to a bustling café. His eyes moved up and regaled the Royal Residence, the same Adriatic seal adorned the building that rose over the harbour. A massive flag waved in the breeze above the palace... the palace that Bendiš had restored and refined from scratch. It was, by far, the most beautiful building he had ever seen.

Bendiš, wearing sunglasses and a flowing linen shirt stood up on the balcony overlooking the street, and waved De La Parra up. Another beautiful woman started chatting with him, as she led the Dutchman up the stairs, while Michael let himself have one more longing gaze at the gleaming Ferrari.

Bendiš and De La Parra talked for hours about everything... and many people came and visited. He recognized some, and not others... but all treated Bendiš as friends. The man had an infectious personality, and De La Parra relaxed. Bendiš and De La Parra drank, before, at one point, completely clearly, the massive royal declared that they would take a ride.

Michael considered this skeptically but was too tipsy to consider. Weight had obviously helped the taller man process the alcohol, so they took the elevator to the garage. Ten beautiful cars lined the walls of the underground garage, all adorned with Adriatic flags, but none of them good for security reasons. This was the most carefree autocrat of the free world. He settled on a Mercedes roadster, the SSK... a beautiful early motoring sports car, which just screamed class... as the Mercedes Star always does.

They drove into the mountains, before De La Parra finally saw a castle rising above the Velebit range. It was tall, stone, and very old, and, as Bendiš drove up to it, Michael could see that it was also adorned by the seal of the royal family. Bendiš glanced, "This is something that very few people in the world get to see..."

Climbing up a narrow stone staircase, Bendiš took a small laser key from his keychain and glanced at an optical scanner... his eye obviously the only credential allowed through the massive wooden doors. The two new friends walked into the large room, but the lights were dim. De La Parra peered over the edge, but could not make out what laid at the bottom of a massive chasm in the center of the room.

"Go on, take a look, let me find the light switch."

De La Parra started noticing newspapers in a large bundle at the bottom as his eyes processed the low light... and recognized one, "BENDIŠ CORONATED", and another from the Sunday Times, "CROATIA IN SHAMBLES, WHERE IS THE PM". Bendiš had finally found the light, and turned it on.

A terrifying wail erupted from the hole, and De La Parra jumped back in shock. The bundle on the floor of this massive pit was the Croatian Prime Minister, his eyes unaccustomed to the light, his bones showing through. Malnourished, he begged for the sweet release of death...

"Please... please", the voice beckoned weakly...

Bendiš stood next to De La Parra and uttered only one word: "Fascinating"
Wow Timmy is back and part of this crazy story
Holy shit....Well things got a bit more interesting!
TIMMY <3 Amazing writing as always, this just got interesting!
What a story, this is bloody amazing.. it's so random and ugh! The words evade me :P


We are live at Groningen Airport Eelde, where the hostage situation of FC Groningen manager Michael de la Parra is still ongoing. So far we have seen the bodyguards from Timmy Bendis being carried outside, one wounded at his legs, and we have heard demands of the groupof people holding the manager in hostage.

The hostage takers were identified of a group of people from the Free Market Syndicate, and they want a contract written and signed by the board of Directors of FC Groningen where they will release half of their players, so the quality of youths in the world isnt located at FC Groningen.

We are standing here with one of the bodyguards, who has made some time for us to talk. "Sir, we understand that you were in the plane when it landed, and the hostagetakers came in." "Da, Ve Vere insite ze airplane when zree guys game in and said that ve vould have to leave ze plane if ve vouldnt vant to gets hurt. Ones of uz tried zo attak ze people and he got hit in zeleg wits a rubber bulliet. At zat point we went of ze plane and carried him off."

All we know at this moment is that the capturers are named Elly Rat, Fred Rain and Yank George Jefferson the 3rd. They are a well known group activating for Free market in football, starting as early as helping Bosman with the Bosman-ruling.

There has not been a reply from the FC Groningen board, but insiders say that they are seriously conidering messaging Tbendis and the brothers of one of the assistants to end this hostage situation. When more news beomes available, we will be the first to report it.
Manager is held hostage at gun point 'There has not been a reply from the FC Groningen board, but insiders say that they are seriously conidering messaging Tbendis and the brothers of one of the assistants to end this hostage situation.' which means 'They want the manager to fucking die and we won't contact anyone'...lol. Great update and don't worry I'll call my brothers ;)
He's back!

Good to see this back after a few days break! :)


New developments in the hostage case with FC Groningen. 15 minutes ago, a new plane arrived on the runway, With the Croatian flag on it. Out it stepped a company of 12 people, where we have identified only 6. The Identified people are Croatian Legend Timmy Bendis together with 2 mean looking bodyguards, FC Groningen Assistant manager Archer Balik with his 2 brothers and an unknown female from which we believe is Danish most dangerous female alive, Someone in a green speedo this time, who cant be anything else than Darren Smith with 2 giants of people, a Czech woman who we belive is named Svetlana Bohm and an unknown youngster.

It seems they are preparing an unauthorised raid at the airplane, and yeah, there seems to be trown gasgranades and flashbangs into the cockpitwindow. 2 man are placing explosives on the doors of either side of the plane, and Damn, what an explosion. Ladder are placed and the unknown female is going into the plane. We hear fighting going on, but cant go to the plane, as Timmy Bendis is holding everyone at gunpoint who comes too close to the plane. And we see Michael Carried out, crying from the teargas. Timmy looks backwards, sees Michael carried out and walks to us. People, this may be my last recording.

"Hey you, with the camera, come here" We come closer towards him. "We couldnt let our friend getting held hostage at my plane, so I assembled a team to get him free. Darrenwas clled because he still has to take his responsibility for kindapping Mike earlier, and Archer and his brothers were happy to help. I couldnt say no to his sister, who wanted to kick some nuts in. I hope they arent allergic to them, cause Iheard over my earpiece that she kicked them so hard they are now somewhere halfway their throats. We will takethem to the hospital,and let the police handle these 3 kidnappers, after that we are going to deal with the fc Groningen board to freshen up their minds"


A few who didnt made the cut:

'Listen here you waffle eating, French fry with mayo loving bastardo' I shouted at Ed Zijp 'We gave you one fucking season to do a good for this club, now you fucking left forehead Mike held hostage while you are sitting here smoking legal weed' I added as I pulled out my gun and pointed him, ‘ appena diventato il numero uno sulla mia lista uccidere, Eddy’ I spoke in Italian.

Maxi came in with the Alfredo and Luca beside him holding auto-mated machine guns. ‘Eddy, we had a deal, you give us 75% of the profit and make sure Mikey is still manager and we won’t kill ya. Now il cazzo di support is questioning the running of this fucking club! You made our lives more complicated you Dutch piece of merda!’ Max screamed at the top of his lungs as he pulled out his knife and slowly ran it across the neck of Ed.

‘Luca, Alfred, leave us be, go and paint some rooms with the directors of this club’ He ordered my bodyguards. ‘Alessio, what do you think we should do with him’ He asked me as he poured himself a glass of whiskey. ‘Risveglia della paura all'interno’ I replied as I pulled out a sledgehammer and placed Ed on his back on the floor. ‘Ciao Eddy, see you in the summer’ Max spoke as he left us alone in the room. As he woke out he could hear Eddy screaming and the hammer hammering…..We meet up down stairs with the rest of the fratelli. ‘Luca and I painted the room, it was fun’ Alfredo said while I added ‘He won’t cross us till summer, Ciao guys, I have a game to win’ I added before leaving on the SM helicopter

The Sicilian cut:







Translation:
È appena diventato il numero uno sulla mia lista uccidere, Eddy- You just became number one on my kill list, Eddy
il cazzo di support - The fucking media
merda - shit
Risveglio della paura all'interno - Awakening of the fear inside
Fratelli - brothers
Very good mate! Thoroughly enjoy all the crazy shit that goes down xD


What the hell happened. I was still baffled, First Timmy who came to get me for a short vacation and gave me the oppurtinity to enhance my knifethrowing skills on the thought-to-be-dead Croatian Prime Minister, coming back in Holland I got taken hostage in a plane, and a miraculous saving where a 5 feet high 45kg heavy little ninja kicked balls so hard that even I flinched. Well, that could have been due to the flashbangs or teargas either, but damn, if she can kick balls like that I may need her to crossdress and be my extra striker.

The sirens of kept wailing whilst we were going to the UMCG. medics where trying to measure everything of me. and witheverything I mean everything. Bloodrate, bloodpressure, bloodoxygenlevel. Thanks due to the Svetlana with me in the Ambulance, there was something else she could measure. I couldnt even think of her without my genitals making a guestappearance. Driving into the hospital, they gave me a shot of morfine to calm me down, and I fell asleep.

When I woke up, I saw a decent welcoming commite. Svetlana, Alex Archer, Alex Anders, Alex Toobie, Lewie Roberts, Claire Fanny, Charlie Simpso, Timmy Bendis, Jesse Donovan, Darren Smith, Timmy Bendis, Ronnie briggs. All of them were playing poker around my bed, and they were taking blinds of a huge stack in front of me, which was appearantly of me. "Hey, you're awake" Said Timmy. "we started without you when the nurse said you hasd been sleeping for 12h straight. Ronnie here decided you deserved an extra youngster for your ordeal, and there has been so much gifts from our team that they needed an extra room to store it in. We wanted to deal with the Chairman, but somebody already beat us to beat him, he is lying 2 rooms down the road. Well, what do you do, do you go 200 or are you out." I checked my cards, and saw 3 aces and 2 kings. "well, just gimme your money already, I say 2000."

The newest addition to the team:
The story is back on, f*cking great man ;)

You are reading "FC Groningen - Regencity".

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