Eldgrimur Nikulasson: Maður í Eldi

For the Icelandic, it's no small feat, how far there national side has come in recent years. First they defeat England in the Euros, and now they've qualified for the World Cup. A small nation known for it's exports of yoghurt, water, fish and popular online game EVE Online, nobody expected the nation to be known for it's footballers. Other than Eiður Guðjohnsen.

I wanted to make a name for myself in management, so that I could be known alongside some of the greats who would go down in history once they'd retired, for being sparrows amongst men, but clawing out their eyes with their talons.

I'd got all the necessary qualifications - I'd studied alongside my brother who managed the International under seventeen squad - but there was something lacking. I didn't want to manage within my own country, I wanted to go worldwide. It was the only way.

For the last time, I locked the door to my central Reykjavik apartment and walked towards the elevator, dragging my suitcase behind me and clutching my hiking backpack behind me with my spare hand. I'd be a a goner if someone tried to mug me - I didn't have any hands free.

Releasing the suitcase, I pressed the button and waited for the elevator to drop down to my level, before stepping inside and pressing the ground floor button.

As the doors began to close, an arm thrust forward into the remaining gap and flailed around until the doors opened again. In stepped the most beautiful woman in the apartment block, Ingrun.

She had long, strawberry blonde hair and freckles to match. Her teeth formed in a slight overbite, but her lips were full enough to stop her looking like a horse.

"So, today is the big day then, Eldgrimur?" she struggled to form her words behind the wall of teeth. Everybody knew of my dream, but few knew that I was leaving today.

"Indeed it is." I replied, "I'm flying to Gatwick airport in two hours. With everything I own in tow.".

I had sold anything of worth that wasn't clothing or necessities to fund the trip, so my life savings were in my luggage. The lurching feeling of not being able to defend myself if I were to be mugged returned.

"I can only wish you the best of luck, Eldi. Ingrun said, placing her hand on my face. "But do you have any plans?"

"Other than taking over the footballing world?" I laughed, "No."

"Well, luckily for you - I have connections, who have connections. Call this when you arrive in England. They'll be expecting your call." Ingrid placed a business card in my jacket pocket.

Before I could ask any questions, the doors to the elevator opened and she skipped away into the reception area of the apartment block and began to speak to the receptionist. I followed her steps, but headed towards the doors and opened them, before stepping outside.

I looked at my surroundings, took a deep, harsh breath of the cold Reykjavik air and sighed. My time had come.

Loved this, can't wait for more!

2017-10-29 23:10#246649 AaronHJFT96 : Loved this, can't wait for more!

Thanks! More will be coming soon.

Fantastic start. That lass seems to like you.

"Step forward please" a voice bellowed from before me.

I shook myself back in to reality and looked at the passport controller that was rolling his eyes with impatience. I stepped forward to the booth and handed the woman my passport before she checked it over and let me through.

I was here. Finally, I had arrived in the fabled land. And I had absolutely no idea of what my next move was.

I booked into the nearest hotel and threw my bags to the floor, exhausted from the flight and the rigmarole of getting through customs. I paused, sat at the end of the bed. My head darted from side to side, searching for a clock, before my eyes landed on a digital one on the desk at the far end of the room.

It was only seven o'clock in the evening, and I was so close to falling asleep.

I sat forward and struggled for a minute as I took my jacket off, throwing it to the bed side. As it hit the floor, I noticed the business card that had been placed in there earlier.


Neville Parton. I'd never heard of him.

I leaned over towards the phone in my room and dialled the number on the business card. It rang all the way, until it was incredibly close to reaching the point where the voicemail section starts, and then he answered.

"Neville Parton. Agenda Footballing Agency."

"Uh, hi, Neville." I stumbled over my words. "I was given your business card by a friend of mine, Ingrun."

"Eldgrimur. I'd been expecting your call. How are you?" he replied.

"Sorry. Yeah. I'm fine. Yourself?"

"Calm down. Right. I know you're trying to get in to the game, but not every team is on the hunt for an inexperienced Icelandic manager, even if you do have all of your badges." Neville replied reassuringly, not once hinting as to where he'd received all of this information.

"Leave it with me - I'll get back to you."

Interesting start this looks very promising!

2017-10-30 18:27#246675 ScottT : Fantastic start. That lass seems to like you.

Thanks! And who knows!

2017-10-30 20:48#246697 mgriffin2012 : Interesting start this looks very promising!

Thank you!

As soon as the phone call ended with Neville, I undressed and fell asleep straight away. It had been a long day, and the pillows felt like clouds amongst a sky of uncertainty.

A young, Uruguayan winger with long, greasy hair danced. Danced like nobody ever had before. He weaved in and out of players with relative ease, showing his technical ability. For a second, he looked unbeatable. My head turned towards the dark abyss of the scoreboard. Twenty seconds of added time remaining.

I rolled over and clutched the pillow tighter.

He darted towards the edge of the box. Ten seconds left. I glanced back to the scoreboard. It was nil-nil. Five seconds. The player unleashed an almighty shot which rips the net behind the goalkeeper. I rise to my feet. The floor collapses beneath me.

Brrrrrrt. Brrrrrrrrrrrt. Brrrrrrrrrrrt.

I roll over and feel the force of Valhalla on my eyes as they adjust to the light of my mobile phone. First, I see the time. Two-in-the-bloody-morning. Secondly, I see Unknown Caller ID.

This is odd. Nobody has my British number. I'd purchased this phone in the airport.

I answer the call and I'm greeted by a familiar voice.

"Hi, Eldgrimur. It's Neville." says the mobile phone.

"Hello," I cough the oxygen from my lungs. "I didn't expect to hear from you so soon."

Neville laughed. "I didn't expect to be calling you so soon."

We chatted for a while. He didn't seem overly excited about what he was talking about, but it certainly interested me. We agreed that he'd become my agent, and once he'd found me a job, he'd take a certain amount of money from the club whenever they gave me a new contract. I liked the sound of this. To him, this was a till chiming in his head. To me, this was everything.

I became disenchanted with what he was saying due to the earliness of the call and faded in and out of the conversation. As I scratched my facial hair in discontentment at not being able to return to sleep, he finished the call.

"I need you to meet me at Euston tomorrow morning. Bright and early." he chirped, as I looked towards the map of London on my bedside table.

"That's fine, but I don't even know what you look-"

The line went dead. I placed my phone back on charge and rolled over and over again around ten times before I was resigned to the fact I wouldn't be sleeping again that night.

Good things ahead it seems. I wouldn't be so nice if someone was ringing me at that time, regardless of him being my agent!

2017-10-30 23:19#246709 ScottT : Good things ahead it seems. I wouldn't be so nice if someone was ringing me at that time, regardless of him being my agent!

I don't think I would either!

Things look like they might be about to be taken up a notch

I turned over for one last time, before sitting up and gathering myself on the edge of my bed. I had barely slept since the phone call, but didn't feel bad considering I'd been asleep for around seven hours before that.

Stumbling to the shower, I kicked the bedpost, trying my hardest to not scream out in utter pain. Perhaps this was an omen on how my day was going to be.

After showering, doing my hair and placing on a t-shirt, I was ready to leave for Euston. (The weather was too warm for my best Icelandic jumper.)

After what seemed like a terribly long journey, I arrived at Euston station and walked straight into a coffee shop, sitting down with a black americano that was full of sugar. I sat scrolling on my phone for around ten minutes, laughing at videos of cats and seeing the updates from my family. Nobody had bothered to message me since my arrival though.

"I didn't expect you to be here before I was." a familiar voice sounded behind me.

I turned around and rose to my feet. Before my six-foot-three stature was a man much smaller, around five-foot-nine. He was portly - his shirt buttons strained at the advancing stomach behind them, and he had a double chin that rivalled the best. His stumpy fingers overflowed beyond his wedding band and his suit jacket was way too large.

"Good morning, Neville." I said from behind a nervous smile.

"Good morning." he replied, gesturing to a man ordering a coffee. "He's going to be your new boss. "

Just get to the point, who is his new boss!

The fans are getting restless, who is the new man in charge!